“You can quit when you are finished. ” My dad has been saying this my entire life. Everytime he said that I took it to heart because, it is a powerful saying if you really and truly follow it. I had followed that saying my whole life relatively easily, until my freshman year of wrestling. During that season I was tested in how much I really believed in what my dad had been saying. My career in wrestling all started in eighth grade, after months of wrestling parents and wrestlers urging me and pushing me to join I gave in and went out for the junior high wrestling team.
So, when wrestling season rolled around I signed up and showed up for practice ready to go. The season was great; I was with my friends doing as we pleased during practice not learning many moves. I thought that I was some prodigy because I was winning against kids who had as much experience as me, which was none, so I was able to out muscle them and somehow come out with my hand raised in the end. As my eighth grade season was coming to a close I was content to end my wrestling career there, and move on with my life. As freshman year began the thought of wrestling was nowhere in my mind.
As the wrestling season approached one of the wrestlers kept asking me if I was going to wrestle and he was always disappointed when I would say no, but he would continue to ask me until I agreed to at least come to a few open mats, before the actual season starts. At the open mats realized how little I actually knew about wrestling, but that fact aside it was fun. We would play dodgeball as part of our warmup and as our cool down at the end, I foolishly thought that was going to be an everyday occurrence during the regular season, so I went out for the regular season, and received quite the eality check. I thought “You know what? I could go out for the heck of it and breeze through behind the scenes without having to put forth too much effort. ” In the sport of wrestling there is no behind the scenes, when you step out onto the mat it is you and the wrestler across from you and no one else.
The first few weeks, in any sport, are designed to weed out the weak and condition the athletes, it was at this time that I realized how hard this was going to be and I so badly wanted to quit. I would go home with a crushed feeling and with a look of despair on my face. What’s wrong? ” my dad asked. “I really don’t want to wrestle,” I said. “Then don’t go out next season, because right now it is no longer about you, it is about the team, so you have to tough it out, sorry. ” I was crushed. I looked at the schedule and realized it was going to be an incredibly long season if I did not change my mindset. The next day at practice I changed my outlook and decided that I was done being mediocre. Little did I know wrestling was going to be one of the best experiences I have ever had.
As the wrestling season progressed, and meets came and went, I did not expect much from my performance. Then, I won my first medal; it was from a small tournament and I received fourth place. From the outside it was an unimpressive accomplishment, but to me it made all the blood, sweat, and tears worth it. Winning that medal pushed me to go even further than I was going before. I wanted to learn the technique and actually started to pick up on the moves, then came JV Mac. JV Mac was the biggest tournament I had ever wrestled in, and I was nervous.
There were three divisions the wrestlers were split up into; A,B, and C, A being the best of the JV wrestlers and C being the worst. I was put into the C division and then moved up to the B division, for who knows why. As match time came, and I walked out onto the mat, my heart was pounding and beads of sweat were running down my face, but I was ready to show what I could do. At the end of the match I was lying on my back, pinned, I had lost. With two matches left my confidence was shattered.
My second match came and my competitiveness forced me to do everything I could to make up for my defeat. || wrestled great and ended up pinning the kid. It was unimpressive, but it gave me a much needed confidence boost. My third and final match still stands firmly imprinted on my mind. I can still hear the crowd yelling with anticipation. I can still feel the rumble of their voices resounding through my tense and nervous body. The match started as many of my other matches did; I fell behind quickly in the first period.
It became obvious that the older wrestler had much more experience and confidence than I did, and he took control of the match as soon as the whistle blew. I found I was constantly battling to stay off my back; the stinging smell of mat cleaner burning my nose as my face was continually smothered into the mat. What is usually a shrill sound from the ref’s whistle was like a sweet tune ending the hellish first period. Thad survived, but I foolishly believed that I could still somehow win this match. As the match continued I could feel my muscles quivering under the strain of the seemingly endless battle.
Man, I am tired I can not keep pushing myself this hard for much longer. ” Incredibly I endured the onslaught and found myself on top of my opponent I could feel him trying to escape, but his will was broken. “What? No way! I am on top, I just need to hold on for a little longer. ” I had won. My shaking hand was lifted up to the cheering crowd; | was filled with the sense of accomplishment that made all of the pain and soreness that I was experiencing worth it. When the results came back, I had won my division.
I wearily climbed the podium with a tired smile on my face, and when I was handed my medal I was hooked on everything wrestling; I only wanted to be in the room grinding and pushing myself because there is nothing like it. If my dad would have allowed me to quit and to not push myself; I would never have had the great opportunity to experience the sport that is wrestling. If it were not for my dad I would never have felt the sense of accomplishment that comes when you see your hard-work and dedication pay off and you are standing in the middle of the mat with your arm raised in front of a cheering crowd.