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Having a wrestle with the past
Watching my son struggle in his first week as a freshman varsity wrestler reminded me of my own experience on that same ride.
I didn’t really earn my slot on the varsity team as a freshman. I just happened to be the only one who was eligible to wrestle in the 178-pound weight class. Of course, I weighed about 166 pounds at the time. So not only was I giving up years in experience, I was also giving up about a dozen pounds to my opponents.
For the first two weeks of the season, I was thrown around by the older guys on my team and getting introduced to their armpits, knees, elbows and other parts of their anatomy as they twisted me into knots in practice. Then came my first match. It was a road match up at Liberty Bell in the Methow Valley on a weeknight.
The trip in a drafty old school bus took three hours. (Those were the days before iPods, cellphones and Gameboys.) When we arrived, we had to strip down in a cold locker room and stand shoulder to shoulder with our opponents. I wasn’t even shaving yet, and I had to square off against a senior who had a 5 o’clock shadow and shoulders and arms like a gorilla. He actually looked like the Brawny paper-towel guy!
After we dressed, we went into the gym, which was packed. When we were introduced in the face-off, I ran to the middle of the mat. He casually strolled. We shook hands and he gave mine an extra-hard squeeze. The people all cheered when his name was announced, like he was Hulk Hogan or something. Then came the match. I’m not sure what happened. One second I was looking at his face, the next I was looking at the lights. All I heard was a dull roar from the crowd as I tried to get off my back like a fish flopping on a riverbank. Suddenly, there was a piercing whistle blast, a slap on the mat and a loud cheer from the crowd.
I was pinned. I swear my opponent winked at me when the ref raised his hand. I could hardly catch my breath as I walked off the mat and collapsed into a heap on the warm-up mat behind our chairs. I had never been so thoroughly beaten in my life. During the long bus ride home, which took five hours in a blizzard, I kept thinking, “That’s a long way to go for 15 seconds of wrestling.” It was a poor way to begin a wrestling career. But from that start, I ended with a seventh-place finish in the state wrestling tournament my senior year.
I almost quit that night. I’m not sure why I didn’t. But now as I watch my freshman son struggle this year, I’m glad I didn’t, because I can honestly tell him things will get better if he doesn’t give up.
