This past weekend, I participated in my first ever Grand Prix. An exclusive tournament in which countries send their best 8 fencers to compete for the title. I was selected by my home country, Egypt, to represent.
The week just before this tournament, I competed in the regional qualifiers in Lafayette, PA in order to qualify for NCAA championships. I got way into my head and performed awfully to say the least. It was not the confidence booster I needed before competing against people who fence professionally, including world champions, Olympic Champions, and countless other world class fencers. Nevertheless, I was determined to do my best regardless of what happened prior to the competition.
The competition consisted of 139 fencers. The top 16 fencers are excused from preliminary pools. This means that 123 people are separated into pools of 7 fencers and they fence a round robin, 5 touch bouts with every fencer in the pool. To make it out of pools, a fencer must win at least 2 bouts, 3 to be safe to avoid elimination from the pool rounds. Then, direct elimination are fenced until only 48 fencers out of the 123 remain who get to be thrown in with the top 16 to make a complete bracket of 64 to fence the second day. Such few slots make the tournament an absolute bloodbath. Everyone is fighting. In my pool, I had a fencer from Cyprus, an American, Canadian, Guatemalan, Japanese, and Italian Olympic and World Champion, Andrea Baldini. I fenced my best and walked away with 4 victories and 2 defeats, including a victory against my idol, Baldini. I was ecstatic. This means I had to fence a direct elimination bout to 15 in order to qualify for the second day. However in this tournament, no matter how well you do in pool, every match is hard.
My draw in order to Qualify for the second round was against an Irishman. I knew of him and he is a very good fencer who fences very unorthodox. I was focused and ready to go, but I had to wait an hour for the first flight of bouts to finish before I can get on strip and fence. I was extremely nervous. The atmosphere of the competition is quite unique; cameras everywhere, important people in suits, and fencers I used to watch when I was younger, idolizing and learning from them. When it came time to fence, I got out there and put it all on the line. I ended up winning a tough match 15-8. I was one of 48 fencers to qualify for the second day. The fencer who fenced and won regionals from Princeton a week before was eliminated from pools, earning 0/6 possible victories.
At the end of the day, I checked online who I would be fencing on Saturday in the round of 64. It was a fencer from Hong Kong an Olympian, Asian Champion, and he is currently ranked 13th in the world. I don’t care much for all that because in the end, 15 touches have to be scored. Nothing is impossible.
The next day, I went through my routine and warmed up normally and got ready until I was called to the strip. All bouts were recorded on camera so I had to wait for my turn, which felt like an eternity. At last, we were called and we were escorted to the strip by our referee and the volunteers who carried our equipment for us. I felt so cool. The match started and it was very intense and I actually kept it quite close, almost always within two points. The margin of error when fencing these fencers is so small, for every mistake is capitalized upon. I was handed 2 harsh red cards, which resulted in two free points for my opponent. One of them, I actually scored and saw my point annulled and given to him. I lost 15-10, a very respectable score, giving him a run for his money in the process. I felt as if I was not far away from the victory. It gave me a boost of confidence, reassuring me that the result of regionals was not an indicator of my level. I hope to meet this fencer again because I want to beat him, because I know I can do it. I finished 52nd, having lost in the 64s, out of 139. Not bad, considering that most of these people get paid to fence.
Thanks for reading,
Mohamed