On Friday night the Canastota junior varsity squad was scheduled to wrestle against our junior varsity squad in the old, creaking Middle School gymnasium, a structure that was, the school district would discover years later, practically bursting with life-threatening asbestos. The J.V. coach had asked me, the varsity heavyweight and current town hero, to stop by the locker room before the match.

The coach, I assumed, had invited me so that I could re-tell my Little Falls story, to inspire his J.V. wrestlers before they went out to meet their doom against the J.V. version of the “onion pickers.” (Yes, even Canastota’s J.V. squad was formidable.) I was happy to do it, glad to tell my tale, to share my story, which I secretly hoped country-western singer Garth Brooks would one day turn into a hit single titled, “The Legend of Little Falls.” Here are some sample lyrics from the song’s chorus that I’d written in a notebook:

His name rings through the cafeteria halls/His glory will never fall/That’s the Legend of Little Falls

A mere three, four weeks earlier, I was either praying for forfeits, hoping the schools we were wrestling against couldn’t produce a heavyweight, or else I was hyperventilating my way through the matches I actually had to wrestle in. All told, I’d been cobbling together what had to be one of the most embarrassing wrestling careers in the history of the sport. Now, a month later, I was about to deliver an inspirational speech–working title: “The Path of the Hero”–to the J.V. squad.

When the referee slapped the mat/His opponent knew that was that/Blah blah blah old straw hat

When I arrived on Friday night, the Middle School gym was already crammed with people, an alarming number of whom were dressed in Canastota’s school colors of dark red and even darker red. It seemed Canastota fans, who had to cross dozens of miles of ice slicked roads to be there, outnumbered our hometown fans.

The team locker room was quiet as a church. I asked the J.V. coach to gather the team together so that I could deliver my inspirational speech. “What inspirational speech?” he said.

“I thought you wanted me to tell the Little Falls story?” I said.

He frowned at me. “Look, I wanted to see you because, if this thing is close tonight, and if it all comes down to the heavyweights, I want you to wrestle for Frank.” He pointed at Frank, who was half naked and sitting on a bench in the corner of the locker room.

Frank was the J.V. heavyweight. With his slumped shoulders, pronounced belly and thick eyeglasses, which he would always wear until the absolute last second before he went out onto the mat, Frank was a near-sighted forfeit collector, like I was. He blinked a few times. He  looked terrified out of his mind.

The world, it seemed, might need The Hero once again after all. “I’ll wrestle for Frank,” I said, already feeling that old queasy feeling in my stomach again. On the plus side, it looked like there were still a few more verses–two, maybe three at least–in my “Legend of Little Falls” yet to be written.

Level 3-8. Today it’s time for another tension-fraught showdown with Donkey Kong himself. This is the eighth and final level of the SHIP section. I expected another one of D.K.’s Rube Goldberg-device levels, with levers and doors and conveyer belts that change direction, etc. Instead, what I get is something that is, especially when compared to his most recent levels (see the extremely busy 3-4), is so spare that it seems as if it might have been designed by a Swedish architect.

This good sized level, which features enough real estate to require the panning camera to follow Mario during his ascent (and descent), mimics the rigging of a ship’s mast, with D.K. and the still-captured Pauline centrally located at the highest point of the structure in the area, a.k.a. where the crow’s nest would be located. D.K. tosses barrels which bounce their way down through the platforms like–as I said before–pachinko balls. Once they reach the bottom tier, they upright themselves, then sit there, until a subsequent barrel comes along, smashes it, and replaces it. This is, I know, my cue to grab one of the upright barrels and carry it up to Kong’s crow’s nest perch.

During your ascent, staying as close to the edge of the screen–either the left or right edge will do; simply pick one–should keep you safe. You will, once in awhile, need to jump onto a platform that is frequented by a passing barrel. Step lively in these moments, and soon enough, you’ll be standing next to D.K. Hurl th barrel in hand at him. Watch him do his “I’m hurt” dance. Then make your way back to the bottom and grab another barrel.

Strike D.K. three times in total, and you’ll have deterred him from throwing any further barrels. He grabs Pauline, climbs through the top of the screen, and I’m done for the day. Final results for this section:

Level 3-5: 99 seconds.

Level 3-6: 98 seconds.

Level 3-7: 118 seconds.

Level 3-8: 129 seconds.

Total: 444 seconds. Final tally of Marios: 38. (That’s a lot of Marios.)

Next up: I finally leave behind the SHIP levels and head for an entirely new set of level known only as JUNGLE.