A Moment in Fencing Time: Doing for the Sake of Doing

A Moment in Fencing Time: Doing for the Sake of Doing

By Nick Evangelista 

Evangelista, Faulkner, and Ganchev

It’s interesting how life plays out one’s significant moments.

I believe I have become an able fencing master not only because of my ability to convey fencing information effectively, but because I have paid attention and learned from the experiences only doing and doing and doing can impart. It goes beyond memorizing facts. Doing illuminates the feelings, colors, and textures of fencing. This is the stuff of fencing that you only get by having your face rubbed in it. What you do with it is up to you.

Case in point: out-fencing a great World professional champion, George Ganchev. A defining moment for sure, maybe the defining moment of my life. But when it came, it came without fanfare. There were no medals or trophies. I was not gathered up, and carried around the fencing room on the supporting shoulders of my cheering teammates. No one even came up to say good job. In fact, no one said anything to me. The entire club had watched me fence, and their response was matter-of-fact. Everyone just packed up their fencing bags when the bout was over, and went home.  Ten minutes later, I was engaged in janitorial chores, straightening up chairs, bagging trash, and sweeping the studio floor. After I was done with my chores, I packed my fencing bag, and quietly let myself out of the school.

Not a movie ending.

And yet, strangely, it seemed right, all the puzzle pieces in place.  I thought about it. I’d done my best, not for any reward beyond doing my best. My bout with George came down to one final touch—one yes or no--and I’d pulled it out of the fire. The reward was the experience, grasping this moment in fencing time and making it my own. Doing it, to have done it. How many people are allowed a defining moment in their life? How many people even recognize when they’ve had one?

 Then, again:

 The next fencing day.

Saturday afternoon.

Mr. Faulkner came up to me as soon as I entered the school.

“You know,” he said, “you really beat George the other night.”

“What do you mean, Boss?” I asked.

“Well, after everyone was gone Thursday night, George came back to the school, and wanted to talk.”

“Oh…?”

“That last touch you made on him, he talked about it for a whole hour.”

I had to fight back a laugh.

Sometimes the universe chooses to smear a little icing on your biscuit.

I just said, “Ah,” and nodded.

My venerable Fencing Master stared at me for a long moment with a curious look on his face, and then walked away chuckling to himself.

Without another word being uttered, I was satisfied with that.