CHAPTER 7
THE FINAL PRACTICE
The next week of camp was intense. Master Kim made sure we memorized every move.
“Practice makes perfect,” he told us.
Unfortunately, things with Emilio were still icy. After my talk with Dad, I’d tried to find time to talk to my friend. But each time, I chickened out. I felt bad about what I’d said, but I didn’t know how to make things right.
Finally, it was the last day of tae kwon do summer camp. The demonstration—and sparring match—were that weekend.
Emilio and I were practicing—separately— when Master Kim called us over.
“I noticed you two haven’t practiced much together yet,” he said. Emilio and I stared at the floor. “I think we should try sparring today. It will help you prepare.”
I snuck a glance at Emilio. He looked uncomfortable with the idea. I was too. We hadn’t talked since our fight. I also didn’t know if I could beat Emilio, even with the magic black belt. He was a natural at tae kwon do. But Master Kim was right. We had to practice.
A few other students gathered to watch. Master Kim handed Emilio and me our body armor. It was only used for sparring, so I felt special putting it on. We donned helmets, chest guards, armguards, and leg guards.
Once we were suited up, Master Kim explained the rules. “In the actual demonstration, there will be a total of three rounds. Each round will last one minute,” he said. “Your goal is to score as many points as possible in each round. You can earn points by landing a kick or punch to your opponent’s armguard, leg guard, or chest guard. An attack to the head will lead to disqualification.”
Emilio and I both nodded to show we understood.
“Today, we will do just one practice round. Anyone can start the first attack,” Master Kim continued. “Since you two are beginners, you may only use jabs, cross punches, side kicks, and roundhouse kicks.”
“Yes, Master Kim,” I said.
Emilio and I bowed to our instructor, then to each other. We locked eyes for a second, but I quickly looked away.
“Cha-ryut!” Master Kim shouted, bringing us into the ready position. “Kyeong-rye!”
With that, the match was on. Emilio had a look of determination on his face as he slowly circled me. I hesitated, nervous about making the first move. Suddenly, Emilio charged toward me. BAM! He did a side kick and connected with my leg.
“One point for Emilio!” Master Kim said.
I tried to process what had just happened. How did he do that so fast?
“Good job, Emilio!” someone yelled.
My face turned hot. Even with my magic black belt, Emilio was beating me. But I wasn’t going to lose so easily. I had a chance to prove myself, and I was going to take it.
“Yaaaah!” I shouted, running forward.
I spun my body for a roundhouse kick. SLAM! My foot hit Emilio’s armguard.
Everyone gasped. Emilio stood frozen in shock. Then the kids started cheering.
“A point for Ben!” Master Kim announced. He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. “Impressive roundhouse kick, Ben.”
I felt like I was floating on air. Master Kim thought my kick was impressive! Even though I had done it with the help of my belt.
Emilio finally recovered. “That was awesome,” he whispered. He gave me a thumbs-up. “Really.”
“Thanks,” I said proudly.
Master Kim calmed the class so Emilio and I could finish our match. I was able to get a few more points with some super-speedy punches and a few more high kicks. I also blocked and dodged Emilio’s attacks with ease.
By the end of the match, I had scored ten points. Emilio had scored one.
“And the winner is… Ben!” Master Kim announced.
Everyone clapped. Several kids came up to congratulate me. Emilio came over too.
“You’re really good at tae kwon do, Ben. A lot better than I am, that’s for sure. You were right. It was probably better that you practiced without me,” he said sadly.
A pang of guilt filled me. I knew I wasn’t actually better. It was the belt. I had been mean to my friend when he only wanted to practice together.
“Wait, Emilio—” I started to say. But Emilio was already walking away, his shoulders slumped in disappointment.
“How was the last day of class?” Dad asked on the drive home. Emilio’s parents had already picked him up. He’d said he wasn’t feeling well.
“It was good,” I said. “We did a practice match, and I won!”
“Wow!” Dad exclaimed. “Sounds like you’re doing a lot better than I did when I first started tae kwon do.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, confused. “Weren’t you always good at tae kwon do?”
Dad laughed. “Not at all. I was the worst student in my class.”
“No way,” I said, shaking my head. The worst student? Dad had a black belt. I couldn’t imagine him being the worst student.
“Yes way. I looked like a flopping fish!” he said. “It took me a long time to improve my tae kwon do skills. I had to retake the beginners’ class three times.”
My eyebrows shot up in surprise. Dad had retaken the class three times? I’d assumed he had been a natural at tae kwon do.
Maybe I should’ve tried practicing instead of using the magic black belt, I thought.
But then I shook my head. I couldn’t think about that. I had a match to win.