Leg Wrestling and Judo

My parents called me today to see if I remembered a boy from my hometown by the name of Mark Long.
Of course I do.
I used to beat him at leg wrestling even though he was three years older than me. I was best friends with his little sister, Sherri, in first grade. Our parents were childhood friends. When I went over to their house to play, I challenged Sherri’s brothers to leg wrestling matches and beat the pants off them every time. One was younger, so of course I’d beat him, but beating the older one was especially gratifying. It was great! I got so cocky about my leg wrestling skills I started challenging adults as well, namely my father, who outweighed me by about 200 pounds and would humor me for a minute before flipping me over onto the floor.
Leg wrestling champ… a strangely invigorating memory.
Then I remembered the time my cousin, Guy, told me he was taking Judo. Guy was my age, twelve, and very macho. His mother was the cocktail-drinking Louise who had a mole on her chin just like Ginger on Gilligan’s Island and had kissed Elvis. I told him to show me some moves. Ba-da-Bing -Ba-DaBoom, I shocked the hell out of him by flipping him over my shoulder. Ah, victory was sweet. Little did he know I offered karate lessons in my own backyard to the neighborhood children for free, (even though I had never taken karate). I also taught tennis against the side of my house, and organized a dance show for my whole neighborhood with all the neighborhood kids.
I choreographed and taught them a dance number on roller skates to Greased Lightning,  a vampire number to the Fifth of Beethoven, and a highly theatrical number to a song about Raggedy Ann and Andy, (a song I wrote and recorded with my tape recorder). The whole neighborhood attended, they even brought popcorn!
My history with beating boys started early, in kindergarten, when little scrappy Charlie refused to share his blocks with me. I kicked his tower down and he punched me in the nose, making it bleed. From that day on, I did everything I could to best boys in every situation. This bizarre desire to dominance continues today. Just the other day, I tried to flip George over my shoulder, but his 6’3 frame proved to be immoveable to my 5’4 frame.
I have to work on my technique.