I played a racquetball (壁球) game against my cousin Ed last week. It was one of the most 1 and tiring games I've ever had. When Ed first phoned and suggested we play, I laughed quietly, figuring on an 2 victory. After all, Ed's idea of 3 has always been nothing more 4 than lifting a fork to his mouth. As long as I can remember, Ed's been the least physically fit member in the family, and 5 proud of himself. His big stomach has always ballooned out between his T-shirt and trousers. Although the family often 6 about that, Ed refused to buy a 7 T-shirt or to lose weight. So when Ed 8 for our game not only with the bottom of his shirt gathered inside his trousers but also with a stomach you could hardly 9. I was so surprised that I was speechless. My cousin must have made an effort to get himself into shape. 10, at the point in our game when I'd have predicted (预计) the score to be about 9 to 1 in my favor, it was 11 7 to 9-and Ed was 12. The sudden realization was painful. We continued to play like two mad men. When the score was 16 up, I was having serious 13 about staying alive until 21 years old, let alone 14 that many points. When the game finally ended, both of us were lying flat on our backs, too tired to move. In a way, I think we both won: I the game, but cousin Ed my 15.
