The Wrestler

Imagine for a minute a large gym. The floors are covered in 3 inch thick mats held together with tape, covered in blood, sweat, and tears of generations but clean of course. Facing the North and South are doors but flanking the East and West is balcony seating filled with at least a thousand people. The seats are hard wooden bleachers and the walls are adorned with red, black, and white coverings representing years of hard work, team spirit, and school pride. There is loud buzzing sounds, whistle blowing, yelling, and clapping going on all at once. The air is filled with a mixture of pulled pork sandwiches, nachos, and teenage boy sweat. Not the best combination. In fact you wish for a large bottle of Fabreeze. Every two seconds someone is crying, be it may a young sibling who is tired or a defeated athlete who's heart was in the game but crushed by points or a pin. Numbers are being called out 103, 112, 119, 125, 130, 135, 140, 145, 152, 160, 171, 189, and the one you have been waiting for 215, followed by 285. People are bleeding, knees are padded, ears are wrapped up, and prep wrestling has taken over. It begins for some at 8 am when the scale is called upon to do its job. Seventeen schools are represented and that scale will be the first to greet them. One by one they take their turn getting on and getting off. Too much weight and you are out, not enough weight and you might not last very long. Its an up and down battle and you haven't even met your opponent yet. Its 3 rounds for 2 minutes and that's it. You had better be ready cause for some its go time. For the spectator its a long day, a sore butt, a tired back, and maybe even a headache. The down time waiting for your number is spent watching others scrap it out. Some matches are pure spitfire and last but a few seconds, others are dragged out for 20 minutes or longer. It depends on how many times someone goes out of the circle or how long it takes to stop the bleeding, and for a few how soon they can be lifted and carried off the mat. Every second is personal and every second matters. Your entire body is put into positions that are not natural, are highly uncomfortable, and alot of times down right painful. You wiggle your way out or find some way to maneuver so it hurts less. You get an advantage and find the opponents weakness, take it for what its worth and ride it out for as long as you can. Points are scored, and some are taken away but either way someone is walking away a winner and someone is going to lose. That is how it has to be. By the end of your 3 rounds, and if you have made it that far, your muscles have been put to the ultimate test, your mind has been pushed to its outer limits, and your heart is either full of pride or crushed by the defeat, it is very personal. There is no point talking to the looser, they have to come down first. Words won't do anything for them, touching them is like putting salt in an open wound, and should they cry you had best just let them work it out. They all do, they all get back up, they all push back again, and eventually they all win that one round that makes it all worth it. Not everyone wins them all but they are all winners. The gladiators, the warriors, the few who are brave enough to get on that mat and give it their all to be called, a wrestler.

Michael, I am very proud of you. You are amazing. 2nd Place at Sauk Prairie Eagle Invite 2011

thanks for reading xoxo