A few years ago one of my mentors told me that I approached life, and everything with a wrestler's mentality. Recently a couple of people who I hold in very high regard told me they were impressed with my drive. I was humbled by those compliments, but I'm not sure I'm so driven as much as hard wired to approach things a certain way. I never saw it when one of my mentors said it to me, but I do believe he was right about approaching things as a wrestler. I really feel it when things get tough and just find myself grinding, and I just want/need/have to keep moving forward... Anyway, I saw this and thought it related to that so I figured I'd share...
For what it was worth, I was a pretty awful wrestler, and Delaware is not Iowa...
"My son started wrestling when he was seven years old. This weekend he wrestled his last high school match, and although he had a very nice career he ended-up just short of his goals. He ended with 98 career varsity wins -- two short of what it takes to get his name on the wall in our gym -- and missed qualifying for states thanks to two excruciatingly close matches. It was even more painful because we had four meets that were snowed-out this year, otherwise his 100 wins would have been assured. And his bracket was loaded with returning state qualifiers, so he knew from the start that qualifying at his weight was going to be a big challenge. But nonetheless he came tantalizingly close to beating a couple of extremely high caliber wrestlers, only to see the matches slip away; which really only added to the pain. After his last match he ran outside and cried for about an hour. When he finally came back, and I saw him for the first time, the pain in his face was indescribable, and something I will never be able to erase from my mind.
It can be a brutal sport. And I won't lie, for the better part of the weekend I wondered if it might have been a mistake to get him involved in wrestling -- because I suspect this last day of his career will haunt him for the rest of his life. I wondered if anything is worth going through the pain he has gone through. You have to understand that he worked unbelievably hard to try to meet the goals he had set for himself. He wrestled 12 months out of the year, and between lifting, running, and wrestling he did some kind of training 365 days out of the year. I could see in his eyes a sense that life had betrayed him; that if you work that hard towards a goal, you ought to be rewarded.
However, I've also watched him gain confidence through the sport that I don't believe he could have ever achieved without wrestling. He carries himself with self-assurance that absolutely came from testing himself repeatedly, and from the many accomplishments that he did achieve. The last couple of years he helped coach the junior program, and by doing so he learned leadership skills and learned how to speak confidently in front of groups. To the young kids he is a rock star! I have truly been amazed at what a fine young man he has become, and I know to a large extent wrestling is responsible. And, yes, even the pain of failure has built his character and made him stronger.
I know this has nothing to do with Iowa wresting, but I can't say these words out loud to my wife and friends without breaking into tears. And yet I need to get the words out -- preferably to people who know exactly what I'm talking about -- because there is no pain more exquisite than watching your child hurting. In the end, I take solace that he will heal from the pain more quickly and more completely than I ever will.
I'm glad he wrestled. I've never been sadder in my life. But I am glad he wrestled."
It can be a brutal sport. And I won't lie, for the better part of the weekend I wondered if it might have been a mistake to get him involved in wrestling -- because I suspect this last day of his career will haunt him for the rest of his life. I wondered if anything is worth going through the pain he has gone through. You have to understand that he worked unbelievably hard to try to meet the goals he had set for himself. He wrestled 12 months out of the year, and between lifting, running, and wrestling he did some kind of training 365 days out of the year. I could see in his eyes a sense that life had betrayed him; that if you work that hard towards a goal, you ought to be rewarded.
However, I've also watched him gain confidence through the sport that I don't believe he could have ever achieved without wrestling. He carries himself with self-assurance that absolutely came from testing himself repeatedly, and from the many accomplishments that he did achieve. The last couple of years he helped coach the junior program, and by doing so he learned leadership skills and learned how to speak confidently in front of groups. To the young kids he is a rock star! I have truly been amazed at what a fine young man he has become, and I know to a large extent wrestling is responsible. And, yes, even the pain of failure has built his character and made him stronger.
I know this has nothing to do with Iowa wresting, but I can't say these words out loud to my wife and friends without breaking into tears. And yet I need to get the words out -- preferably to people who know exactly what I'm talking about -- because there is no pain more exquisite than watching your child hurting. In the end, I take solace that he will heal from the pain more quickly and more completely than I ever will.
I'm glad he wrestled. I've never been sadder in my life. But I am glad he wrestled."
Thanks for reading and allowing me a little lateral introspection and what not.
respect
Vanderbacon
