Date: Thu, 04 May 2000 18:12:01 EDT
From: Joel Young <joelyoung120@hotmail.com>
Subject: My Debate Partner - Chapters 5 & 6

Author's Note: I want to publicly thank Matt and Eddie for helping me
recover the rest of this story from a corrupted computer file.  Thanks,
guys!!

Chapter Five

It may seem a little strange, but it never really bothered me that I found
myself in love with my Debate partner, another guy, when I was only
sixteen.  Loving David, and making love with him, just seemed so natural.
I never felt guilty or ashamed.  I only felt the joy of loving him and
having him love me back.  I did feel terror, however, when we were almost
caught by our coach in a motel room.  We wound up having to find our own
way to the first major tournament of the season.

The front desk had called us a taxi., and we arrived at the tournament at
9:10.  David had raided the motel vending machine while I was in the
shower.  Breakfast was a candy bar, peanut butter crackers and a soda in
the back of the taxi.  It crossed my mind that my Mom would probably have
been more upset with me for eating junk food for breakfast than she would
be about my relationship with David.  She regularly preached against junk
food, but I'd never heard her say anything bad about gay people.

Breakfast and the taxi took almost all of our money, and we were left with
only about $2.00 between us for lunch and dinner.  Although we were
technically 10 minutes late, we were actually there in plenty of time.
Several schools hadn't even arrived yet.  Mrs. Weber saw us come in from
across the school library which was serving as the reception area.  She
looked at her watch and pointed directly at me, letting me know she knew we
were late.

While Mrs. Weber talked with some of the other coaches, David and I found
the rest of our team.  There were the natural questions, including the
inevitable "Where the hell were you?"  Our peers, however, were more
understanding, less judgmental and far more gullible than Mrs. Weber.

When we finally received our schedules at 9:30, David and I immediately sat
down to identify the schools we would face during the day.  It was a
confusing and poorly organized schedule, but I finally figured it out.  By
reputation, our first two opponents were fairly weak.

"Holy shit," I whispered to David when I deciphered the schedule for the
third round.  We were up against last year's State champions.

"Holy shit good?  Or Holy Shit bad?" he asked.  His questions brought back
all the memories of our first kiss and the lust filled evening that had
followed.  I blushed beet red.

"This time, its bad!" I replied. " We're up against Kettering in the final
round."  Even David took pause at that announcement.  Their Affirmative
Team had been undefeated for two years running.

All I really wanted to do at that particular moment was to find a quiet
place to collect my thoughts.  I wanted time to think about the direction
that my relationship with David had taken.  I wanted to rethink whether
Mrs. Weber had really figured out that David and I had become lovers in the
motel room.  I wanted time to prepare myself mentally to face Kettering.
But all of that had to be put aside.  We had ten minutes to get to our
first round.

As expected, the first two rounds were relatively easy.  I fell into my
"Debate mode," and forced myself not to think about my personal
relationship with David.  Although we wouldn't find out the results of the
first two rounds until the awards program at the end of the day, David and
I were confident that we had won both Debates.  One team had done a fairly
decent job of rebutting our arguments, but David's deadly analytical skills
had found flaws in their logic.  As for the other team, well, let's just
say we showed no mercy.

We borrowed some money from Sara so we could both get a decent lunch.  When
we had all sat down at the cafeteria table, we learned that Jim and Sara
also had two good rounds.  We were fairly confident that we were probably 4
and 0 at this point in the competition. We didn't really know anything
about the team that Jim and Sara would face next, except that we had picked
them out in the food line.  Jim said they looked like total geeks.  Sara
reminded him that the Jocks at our school say the same thing about us.

We all avoided talking about the upcoming Debate with Kettering.  If we had
talked about it, we would have to admit that David and I were probably
going to get creamed.  I wanted to lean against David for emotional
support.  I wanted to feel his arms around me.  But, of course, we couldn't
touch each other, or show affection, or acknowledge our new relationship in
any way.  It added to the strain, as did a shortage of sleep.

Mrs. Weber came over to where we were sitting just as we finished eating.
I was surprised when she put her arms around me from the back and leaned
over.  She seemed to be a totally different person from the angry teacher
who had struck terror in me earlier that morning.  "Joel," she said, "this
next round is on you. Take the lead. You can do it.  Don't let Kettering's
reputation intimidate you.  You've faced tough challenges before, and
you're ready for this one."  She patted me on the shoulder, and then she
sat down by David.

"Mr. McAndrew," she began.  "You know how to find weakness in any argument,
but sometimes, you get so involved in analysis that you miss the
obvious. Things are not always logical.  Slow down, and don't be lead down
the wrong path."

She then turned her attention to Jim and Sara.  "As for you two, she said,
"go kick some geek butt!"

As I said before, Mrs. Weber was the coolest teacher at our school.

Chapter Six

I have heard that a person's character is developed more by failures than
by successes.  If that is in fact true, my Debate partner, David McAndrew,
and I had a significant character building experience at our first major
tournament of the season during my Junior year of High School.  After David
and I became lovers the night before, we faced the toughest Debate team we
would ever meet - Lansing Kettering.

The Kettering Affirmative Team was already in the room when we arrived.
They had their materials out and were getting organized.  They seemed
arrogant to me.  David walked directly over to them, extended his hand and
introduced himself and then me.  They barely acknowledge us, but introduced
themselves in a perfunctory manner.  Their names were Sean and Brandon.
David and I went back to our side of the podium and set about organizing
our own materials.

Soon, the judge arrived.  He took our names and schools for the speaker
evaluations and judging forms and said, "Okay, men.  Let's go."  Sean, the
first Affirmative speaker, rose and went to the podium.

"Slick" is the best word I can use to describe Sean.  His style was very
serious, polished and organized. He had a rich, commanding voice, and I
found myself almost wanting to follow along in an agreeable fashion.  I had
to force myself, however, to listen critically to his content.

The Debate proceeded along fairly well, and I came to the conclusion that
in actuality, David and I and Sean and Brandon were evenly skilled.  It
appeared to me that either side could be declared the winner, that is until
Brandon's rebuttal speech.  The more aggressive member of the Affirmative
team, Brandon went for David's jugular.

David had used a fairly widely known quotation from a former Director of
the U.S. Treasury.  The quotation was a call for fiscal conservation, and
it was used to question the affordability of new federal entitlement
programs as proposed by the Affirmative team.  It was a powerful quotation
employing dramatic, "doomsday" language.  Although the man had died three
years after leaving office, he was still thought of as an authority in
U. S. economics.

I knew something was up when Brandon began his rebuttal by praising the
former Director of the US Treasury.  He reviewed the man's credentials and
called him one of the best minds of the current era.  He said the man was a
giant who was not afraid to change directions based on new information.  He
then read another quotation from the same man which he said appeared in a
publication called "The New Paradigms Newsletter."  The quotation recanted
much of the conservative economic philosophy that had marked the man's
governmental career.  The quotation said that he had become convinced that
the American public had to accept economic risks for social gain.  He was
quoted as saying that, humbled by his own impending death, he regretted his
role in squashing sound social programs for the sake of a few, miserable
dollars.

And then came the attack on David's jugular.  Brandon accused David of
deliberately ignoring new information because the old information better
suited his purpose.  "Either that," Brandon said, "or my opponent wasn't
aware of the latest information simply because he failed to prepare
adequately."

That was the first of only two times when I ever saw David's confidence
shaken.  The devastating quotation would be a difficult obstacle for any
Debater.  In combination with the personal attack, however, it seemed to
rattle David's concentration, just as I'm sure it was meant to do.  Unless
he had a factual counter to the quotation, he would end our part of the
Debate appearing unethical or unprepared.  He looked at me for help, and I
knew he didn't have anything factual with which to recover.  I wanted to
tell him not to get defensive, to put the quotation in perspective, and
repeat his stronger arguments.  But the rules wouldn't let me talk.  I
looked at him calmly, and tried to communicate with my facial expressions.
I handed him a card with a quotation on fiscal conversation from a second
expert.

I felt all of David's embarrassment as he fumbled around with his final
speech.  And I knew in my heart, it is was a pathetic attempt at recovery.
Later, I realized that he was the victim of his own analytical skills.  He
knew that to win, he had to produce what he didn't have. He would have been
better off to mention the quotation briefly, give it his best shot, and
then move on to other issues.  Instead, he filled five minutes talking
about the quotation with defensive, confusing mush.  Although he read the
quotation I had given him, he didn't drive it home.  I actually have no
idea what he tried to say, and it was obvious from watching the judge's
face that he was confused as well.

The old phrase about beating a hasty retreat had new meaning for me as we
got out of that room as fast as we could when the Debate was finally over.
David was very upset, and he just kept saying the same word, "Damn!"  I
took his arm and guided him down a darkened corridor of the school
searching for a place to be alone.  There really wasn't a good place, but I
finally stopped when I thought maybe we were far enough away from the rooms
being used in the tournament.  We set our cases down.  I took him in my
arms, and he allowed himself to be comforted.  He rested his head on my
shoulder and took a deep breath.  I told him it was okay.

"Okay for a looser." he said.  "If you want a new partner, I'll
understand."

I knew his words were a plea for me to do some repair work on his ego, and
I was happy to oblige.  I felt so much love and concern for him.  I
desperately wanted just to make it all better for him.  I didn't care that
we had obviously lost the Debate, I wanted David to feel better.

I told him how great he'd been all day, how intelligent he was and what a
great speaker he was.  I called Sean and Brandon a couple of arrogant snobs
who got lucky with one lousy quotation from an obscure newsletter.  I
sensed that my words were helping him regain his composure, and then I told
him how much I loved him.  The emotional ups and downs of the last 24 hours
seemed to well up in David all at once, and he began to sob quietly on my
shoulder.  I held him for a long time before asking, "Crying good?  Or
crying bad?"

"Both," he answered.  "Bad Debate.  Good boyfriend."

I had not thought of myself in that capacity before, but I was thrilled
that he considered me as his boyfriend.