Wrestlemania

Wrestlemainia

Life lessons from a ten year old.

January fifth will be a day I remember for the rest of my life. We traveled the seventy or so miles to Southside High School in Gadsden, Alabama with great anticipation. I could tell Zachary was excited sometimes in quiet wonder and at other times going on and on about the things that captivate ten year olds. During the long trip I came to realize it would be a great day. As life can sometimes turn an about face on you, I did not anticipate why it would be special.

This would be Zachary’s first wrestling tournament. I think I was more nervous than he was. Zachary has played team sports in the past and with the safety that comes in numbers has done well. Wrestling, however, is a completely different animal. Man to man, you are on your own. With no time outs and no one to back you up, it is you against him. Wrestling has been just as tough on me. Growing up playing sports, I never even gave wrestling a second thought. I was a baseball, football, and basketball man. The only sport with an individual element that drew my attention was track. I think the solitude of distance running gave me a chance to sort out and reflect on all the thoughts running through a young man’s head. I have had to rely on the great expertise of the coaches running the youth program here in our area. I will say my hat is off to them. Commanding a group of young men age’s six to twelve and getting them to focus on a sport that is both technical and physically demanding is an awesome sight.

Arriving at the tournament we promptly signed in, paid our admission fee, and weighed in. The seventy pound novice beginner class would be Zachary’s first chance to test himself. We were to begin at 2:30, however, being a quick learner, I realized wrestling tournaments do not usually go as scheduled. We parked ourselves in the bleachers and waited for the younger kids to finish. Kids came and went, parents waited and cheered, not at all what I am used to. It was chaos, all the commotion not being directed at the team but to individual combatants here and there. One of Zachary’s friends and teammates came bounding up the bleachers proudly displaying his first place medal. After he left, Zachary quietly commented, “I sure would like to take one of those home to Mommy.” Behind me I noticed a young wrestler crying. I overheard his father say, “If this is how you are going to act we won’t come back.” This was promptly followed with, “don’t cry about it you got beat.” After five minutes or so the young man went bounding off to join his friends. I suddenly realized how hard it is to be a good father.

Mat five was to be our arena. Following warm ups with his team ready we were. I have seen it a thousand times before but to see the look only competition can put on the face of a young man, especially one of your own, I was a wreck. There is nothing you can do but send them out to experience it for themselves. Excitement, apprehension, exhilaration, and fear all rolled up into one ball of anxiety. That is the way I felt anyway. Zachary went second. I had high hopes. He got into the perfect wrestling stance, one of the few things I have been able to coach him on. It lasted about forty seconds. Before he knew it he was on his back, fighting to roll to his stomach. He managed it once, was rolled back and it was over. He came directly to me with wide eyes, hugged me, put his sweats back on and quietly took his place beside the mat to watch and wait for his next turn. When his name was called a second time, I helped him off with sweats and told him to do his best and not to get into bad position. I heard a coach say that once. He fought a little harder this time. He was put on his back, got to his stomach and then got his feet under himself. He got to his feet but was put back down. While on his stomach he made a cardinal mistake, a coach told me that later. He reached back and was hooked, rolled over onto his back, and pinned. 0 and 2. I am hoarse by now. Same routine, hug, sweats, and back to watch. Third time’s a charm. I helped him off with his sweats and this time I grabbed him by both shoulders and told him to get aggressive. “Do your best, you can do it!” He fought even harder but eventually got into a tough spot and was pinned again. He came for his hug and I asked him if he did his best. Through wet eyes he shook his head yes. He knew there would be no medal for mom today. When his name was called the fourth time he had a look of determination on his face. This was the toughest kid in the class. I told him the usual “be aggressive and do your best.” A pin and one bloody lip later he was 0 and 4. After some first aid and a candy bar, he took a fifth shot at it. Again, I told him “do his best and fight hard.” He took a shot at the kid, got his leg, and took him down. This could be it I thought. At this point I am screaming. I think the take down shocked him. When they hit the mat Zachary bounced off of him and the kid pounced. Zachary struggled hard but eventually ran out of fight. 0 and 5. No tears, no excuses, he said to me “come on dad it’s a long trip home.”

Getting settled in the car he asked if we could stop at Arby’s. “Of course we can”, I said. I asked him if he did his best. “Yes dad, I tried my best.” I asked him if he was going to work harder at practice. “Of course I am”, he said. “Losing wasn’t any fun.” That’s when he said it. After six hours of one defeat after another, my ten year old son looked at me and said, “Dad, I had a great time with you today.”

I am floored. I thought this would be the devastation to end all devastation. I thought his ego would not be bruised but broken. How will he ever to be able to recover from this and how am I going to console him was all I could think about. Was he disappointed, sure he was but what was more important for him was the great time he had with his dad. I don’t know what’s tougher? Watching your kids learn some tough life lessons or knowing they must learn them on their own.

Zachary did not get his medal. He got something much more important, his manhood.

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