The swim move, for the tall.
The rip, for the low-to-the-ground. 
The bull rush, for the strong.

He chose the nerve cluster,
snaking his hands underneath
shoulder pads and 
digging his fingers
into their armpit.

The pain made you flinch.
I know because I lined up across from him
at practice.   By hitting my nerves,
he could steer me away from the ball.
Who wants to cause pain to a teammate?

I wasn’t going to ask
for him to stop.  Wimping out 
would’ve got me made fun of
and there was no way
I was losing to this bully.

I expected it from him every time.
And by the end of the season,
he wasn’t pushing me around anymore.
He dug and he dug, but I dug in
and pushed him backwards

into the backfield.  Again and again.
Not every time, but enough to gain
the coach’s attention.
He only caused me pain.
I took his pride.