In Klein high school, unlike football players, wrestlers don’t get recognized for what they do, and perhaps all of Texas for that matter. After all, football is Texas's favorite sport and has been long before the spread of wrestling. I was the new kid on the team for a while. The coaches decided to place me and JV for my lack of experience. Though I managed to learn quickly, I hated JV. Most juniors and seniors trained in varsity while I was stuck with the wimpy sophomores (plenty of seniors and juniors as well). I knew wrestling was not for everyone, but that did not stop me from experiencing the lessons of hard work, confidence, and sacrifice.
At first no one encouraged me to succeed as a wrestler, but I ought myself to climb the ladder of
…show more content…
hierarchy. Then I met Coach Banas, The head coach. Coach Banas gave many life lesson to the team that made us look up to him and thus in return making us want to spend more time with, to grasp those lessons a little longer. His white hair always reminded me of the wisdom he carried. He had the perfect way to connect life with wrestling. The portrayal of his words would pierce through any shell, no matter how guarded a person was. He was also virtuoso at creating painful workouts. By the time season began, so did hell. Three weeks into the Happy New Year, all I could do was worry about the upcoming Thursday and drool over food. For us wrestlers, there was no such thing as winter break. The red and green “happy holidays” had faded in the background with every sweaty mind numbing practice. Although I took advantage of the opportunities to improve, it still felt like it wasn't enough. Coach Banas had been inviting me into varsity workouts and drills. He even gave some varsity matches. By this time, I managed to gain the respect of most varsity boys and even the college bound wrestlers, which made the miserable practices more bearable. I remember crawling out of bed at 4:45 before the crack of dawn, brushing my teeth, and neatly packing my wrestling gear fatigued.
The tournament started half an hour early. All the schools in our district arrived, stripped down to their boxers, and waited in line to be weighed inside our small locker room. I managed to be exactly 0.62 lbs. just below my weight class, 152. It's always the first times that are the most memorable and meaningful. This was my first District tournament and only I could determine how far I would make it. From the first doubts I had to overcome, to overcoming my opponents, I fought hard, with vigor and confidence to accomplish this. It was time to use the countless drills of takedowns, shots, and sprawls to the test. As I shook my opponents hand the moves became instinct. After winning four matches, my body was ready to give up. The last match was the toughest, only the person willing to break a bone, before giving points away would be victorious. I looked at my teammates that had made it to the finals, saw the focus and fire in their eyes as they hopped and warmed up. I went in with the same mindset and at the end, I looked up at the crowd with joy as the ref raised my right hand in the
air. Although it was something I learned throughout season, I didn't realize it until I received the gold medal. It did not matter how hard I worked the day before the tournament or even the week before. All the hard work must be done months before. Every sprint, drill, rep, and days without eating, counted toward my success. Even though I felt like quitting multiple times, I continued. It's the journey one chooses to take that depicts what one will become. Here was no excuse to make and no one to blame but myself. I had now acquired a behavior that ascended from others including my old self. From then on I look forward to challenges. Like our coach always said, “the outcome is determined weeks before the match even begins.”
I have many things that I love in this life, one of those things is wrestling. I have been wrestling for seven years and I have developed quite the passion and love for it. Wrestling has always been an interesting sport for me. Growing up in Oregon I watched my uncles wrestle in high school. I watched both of them win their state tournament in their respective weight classes, this is one of my fondest memories of my childhood. One of them went on to wrestle division one, I thought this was the coolest thing in the world. I looked up to my uncles and wanted to be just like them. I did not always wrestle though. The process of pursing my dream as of becoming a wrestler started of with basketball, then went to a rocky start, then being on Worland High School wrestling team.
When we first arrived I’d thought we’d taken a wrong turn and went to a traveling gypsy convention by mistake. The whole field outside the school was filled with tents of various sizes and colors. 200 wrestlers, about thirty of which were girls, filtered about the area. As my soon-to-be teammates and I headed to the first practice, anxiety gnawed at my stomach like a dog with a bone (FL). I wanted to impress everybody, and prove that I could make it in this sport. Before we started, the coach patted me on the shoulder. “I’ve got your back all right.” he told me. I smiled and nodded. At least one person was looking out for me.
Wrestling is more than just a sport; it is a way of life. And for those who enjoy its opportunities, it is something that takes the mind off of all of life’s troubling times, and puts one man against another to get their hand raised. Competition makes everything evolve, and there is no other sport that epitomizes what competition truly is. Wrestling spans the entire globe, and although it incorporates several different styles and many National and World events, remains overlooked by most.
and this feeling only is why I wrestle. This hard to explain feeling is like a
I was born in Lima, Peru, raised in a middle class family, and moved to the USA in 1999. My father, a fan of martial arts enrolled me and my brother in different martial arts styles Karate, kung Fu and Judo. I can say that most of my younger years I practiced more martial arts than playing our national sport called soccer. At the age of thirteen I was going to watch on TV something that will impact in my future. On November 12, 1993, my father and I were watching a show called Ultimate Fighting Championship also known as UFC. This event on TV was about a group of eight fighters from different martial arts like Judo, Karate, Sumo, Kung Fu, Boxing, Muay Thai, Sambo, and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, who will fight each other to see who is the ultimate fighter and the best martial art of all (The UFC history). Royce Gracie originally from Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, a black belt in Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and weighting no more than 170 lbs and five foot nine inches tall. He won every single fight by submission, and was proclaimed the first UFC champion of the world. His opponents outweighed him by more than fifty pounds and most of them were taller than him. We were amazed of how easy and quick he beat them without a single punch or kick. I asked my father if he can find a place in the city where I can train Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, but at that time he could not find any academy or gym where they teach the art. Nobody knew about that martial art, and the only two places to train were in Brazil and USA.
CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, CLAP, echoes through my head as I walk to the middle of the mat. "At 160lbs Aidan Conner of La Junta vs. Rodney Jones of Hotchkiss." All I can think of is every bead of sweat, every drip of blood, every mile, every push up, every tear. Why? All of this: just to be victorious. All in preparation for one match, six minutes. For some these six minutes may only be a glimpse, and then again for some it may be the biggest six minutes of their life. Many get the chance to experience it more than once. Some may work harder and want it more than others, but they may never get the chance. All they get is a moral victory. Every kid, every man comes into the tournament with a goal. For some is to win, for some is to place, others are just happy to qualify. These six minutes come on a cold frigid night in February at a place called the Pepsi Center. Once a year this gathering takes place when the small and the large, the best of the best, come to compete in front thousands of people. I am at the Colorado State Wrestling Championships.
As I sit here with my eyes closed, I imagine a tropical breeze. The warm wet air slides over my face. The humidity seems almost heavy enough to crush me. As I take a deep breath, the realization that this is no tropical air comes crashing in. Instead of the refreshing scent of the ocean, or tropical plants, the taste of salt from sweat and a smell of the human body fill my lungs. The daydream is over. A shrill whistle sounds and the voice of coach Chuck booms through out the room, breaking the peace that was comforting the pain in my shoulder and bringing me back to reality. I was not on some humid island paradise, but rather in the explosive atmosphere of the Hotchkiss High School wrestling room.
Wrestling has grown to extensive amounts since it’s infancy. It has become one of the most organized and planned out sports in our Olympics, with some of the worlds most committed and die-hard fans to enter a stadium. Wrestling is still practiced almost everywhere in the world, whether it be in one of it’s more traditional forms, or the more modern one.
When I started playing football I was about eleven years old. I played for my park organization which was Brown Park. My first team name I played for was the Titians. The coach for the Titians is the one who actually made me come play because he had seen me in the basketball gym. He said I could move for my size and would like me to play with him. I said no but then he went talk to my mom and next thing I know my mom tells me I am playing football next year. I was horrible the first couple weeks but got better later in the season. I became one the best defense lineman and offensive lineman players on the team. Then when I got older I played football in middle school at Acadian Middle and Lafayette Christian Academy. My first year playing running back was when I went to Acadian Middle. In my middle school years I was just the power back. Players, people, and even coaches all thought I could not have been a speed back. But, when I got to high school at Lafayette Christian Academy, I started showing a glimpse that I can be an overall line back. It did not truly happen until the biggest play of my career came. When I told my teammate, Sterling Miller
As the season progressed, competition started getting fiercer. I was up against girls running at a 5A level, yet, I was able to hold my own. Finally there came a tiny light at the end of the tunnel; it seemed as though I was getting closer and closer to accomplishing my goal. Along with my undefeated title came a huge target painted on my back. I religiously checked "Rocky Preps" every day to see if the competition was gaining on me. It seemed that every time I had improved, there was someone right behind me, running their personal best too. I trained during the weeks before regionals like I had never trained before. Each day my stomach became more twisted with knots that looped around every part of my stomach. I don't think I had ever been that nervous in my whole life.
When a person walks into a building to see a live wrestling event they do not know what to expect. They wonder who will be wrestling. They wonder where their seats are. All of the suspense gets them ready for the show. The suspense gets them pumped and ready to for the show to start.
Professional wrestling is not “fake”, but it is scripted. Me personally, I liked wrestling back before they talked so openly about how the magic happened and before there was Internet. We don’t need to be told something most of us know and ruin it for people who get into the product. The key to carrying a match at a quality capacity is a (wrestler) performer’s ability to get into the role and really become the character. This is why John Cena is the number one performer in the industry.
My heart was racing so fast, and I could see my mother with the corner of my eye saying to relax and smile. As twenty minutes passed by the judge announced on the microphone, “Good afternoon folks, in this heavy weight class it is kind of hard to place since they all look good. I want to congratulate every single of these twenty-two individuals for their hard work and dedication. At this time, I will place the top ten. Thank you.”
I was the kid who never knew what he wanted to do when he grew up. I sat quietly when the question was paraded in front of us in classes, as early as kindergarten. Everyone else seemed to know what they wanted to be- doctors, firefighters, police, and teachers. I had no such illusions. Even watching wrestling as a kid, I never bothered thinking I could do that some day.