Blood, sweat and tears. Incredible amounts of the three. Stupid amounts. Any serious wrestler at any level of competition will, from day one, be ready to sacrifice these things.
My father and his four brothers were all wrestlers, one even became a collegiate All-American. Every family gathering was full of wrestling. They never greeted one another with a hug, but instead with a great big bear hug, intent on surprising their brothers and putting them on the ground. However, they were rarely surprised, and if they were, it immediately became a room-clearing match for the ages. The living room wasn’t a place to laze about, it’s a clear space for brawls. Kitchens weren’t where food was made, kitchens were where wounds were treated.
I began my career relatively late, at 14. I thought I was ready for it, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. As I stepped onto those twenty-year-old mats in that hot, dank middle school wrestling room, I realized I may have had illusions of grandeur. Kids were already all over one another, there was hardly room to walk. And then practice began. We ran, fought and sweated ourselves to the point of collapse. So it was to be for the next several years. This is why I’m unafraid to work hard toward my goals. Simply put, nothing scares me anymore. I used to run in tiny little circles so hard and for so long that I’d lose five pounds of water in a couple of hours. For fun.
Wrestlers have a bond that those in most other sports lack. When you’re stuck in a ninety degree room with someone running so hard that sweat condenses on the walls, you get to know them a little bit better than another two might across, say, a baseball field. We are physically closer to one another at all times, and therefore wrestlers are more closely connected. You don’t truly know a person until you’ve gotten their sweat in your eye, after all. To this day, I attribute my ability to get to know anyone quickly and very personally to wrestling. It’s just easier to do, after having to do it with the hundreds I competed with or against over the years.
Wrestling is a largely individual sport. When you compete, it’s you and another person (sometimes even under a literal spotlight), and a crowd full of eyes watching. You can’t hide behind your team, and cheating is nearly impossible. To that end, wrestlers become very honest individuals. Once it’s over and you shake your opponent’s hand, you either leaves thinking, “I worked hard, I earned that win,” or “I didn’t work hard enough to beat him.” Wrestlers have a sort of honesty that can be perceived as blunt, even in respect to themselves.
Wrestling is something that simply changes people. Spend enough time in one of those borderline hellish rooms for long enough, and you won’t be the same person that initially walked in. At the very least, you’ll be a much smellier person, but a different person nonetheless. Wrestling made me the person I am now, and I hope to instill these values to others as well someday.
