It is All or Nothing

by Bryce 1

I was eighteen and it was my first and last year of wrestling I have participated in. Placed in junior varsity as a senior usually comes with some general degradation from other students; seniors are most always in varsity, I was not. A friend told me once that I would never be able to keep up with football practice because it was just too strenuious a workout. So instead, I joined the wrestling squad, which is much harder a practice than arguably any sport has. At the time, I was very muscular and advised by many folk to join in on wrestling because I could be immediately great just based off my strength.

This thought seemed to be shared by some of my opponets who fell down and let me beat them. It happened unusually often. I guess my appearance, which believe me was a sight, was quite intimidating for some of my match ups. I gave hardly any push and they would just go tumbling. It was as if they thought I would break them if they did not submit to me. I am not saying this in any way to gloat that I was some shredded young titan. I am only telling you this so you can more easily paint a picture as we proceed and two, because it sheds light on how appearences alone can pressure the mind to make a judgement without having even dealt with the object in question.

That being said, I did lose my first seven matches. It was the eighth match that I'll tell you about now. My eighth match against someone who I could not remember no matter how hard I tried. The only true memory I have is that he lost and I won. I played like I was ecstatic because my friend and his mom were in the audience. I really sold it too. They laughed and said that they saw me jump up in celebration of my first win as if I was really excited! Tell you the truth, I really didn't care.

I won that match but it did not feel like I had to try all that hard. I celebrated because that's what someone does when they finally win something they've been trying hard to win. It was an act I put on to suit my friend and his mom who supported me with words and affection all the while. I celebrated so they could feel too the feelings that come with a big win, perhaps they were the only ones that day who felt them. I just did not care. If I had to pin it down, I'd say it was because I never really tried to win. I never had the intense yearning that some wrestlers have to win. The only thing that mattered to me when it came to my wrestling career was just not to quit.

I hated practice and I hated meets. I hated running and wrestling; although thinking back on it, I do not regret a thing about it. Wrestling was one of the highlights of my highschool career because I made many friends and had many laughs all the while. It also proved to me that even through the most rigourous of trials, I'll still make it through, even if my only propellant is the fear of quiting. So there it is, fear of failure is what helped me last throughout that one season. Though I did lose seven of my 18 matches, I never did quit the program and for that, I'm very thankful.

There was one varisty match against our school rivals that I will remember till my dying day. Some of our boys lost and some won. it came down to the final match, whoever wins that will win it for their school. It was a neck and neck barnburner of a match and I was so utterly focused on how each one played out. That last match was Scott vs. Zack. Zack was someone I knew in elementary school but he transered to another district later down the line, so he was on the opposing side. Scott was wrestling for us, I never really vibed with him but I respected his attitude toward wrestling and the way he handled business; he treated each match like his life was on the line. For matches he lost, I'd often see him crying later on; wrestling was so important to him and he put everything he had out there every time. I respected this a lot, though at the time I wouldn't be able to have this insight as to why. Me, on the other hand, never gave my full self but I'll divulge those details in a moment. Anyway, scott, towards the final moments of the match, pinned Zack.

The resounding thud of the referee's hand hit the mat and sent everyone on our side off our feet. I remember my iphone 4 sailing through the air as my body reached for the skies in celebration. We had done it! Celebratory screeches were heard and the crowd went absolutely nuts! These were our rivals after all and they were pretty dam good. It was almost assumed by everyone that they would handily win, but they did not. It was Zack who I saw crying later on. To be quite honest, Zack never really seemed to me the brightest guy around. I don't think guys like him have the wherewithall to be able to dig too deep into whatever they're doing, but that's just an opinion, he was just always pretty spacy. Last I heard of him he was snorting pills in his car somewhere, but those pills ended up being big ibuprofen. So not only did he stay sober but the cops didn't apprehend him either. Seems to me like you can get to know someone pretty well as a kid and in most cases they never really change, but I definitely digress.

Anyway, I am going to sum this story up. I never cared about wrestling, I just didn't want to quit. And when I eventually won I didn't care, I just acted like I did to appease those who thought I was really trying. I gave probably about fifty percent, if that type of thing is even calcuable. Perhaps, it'd be better to say that I gave my body but not my heart and soul. That feels nearer to the truth. Anyway, I do rememeber another match, one I myself participated in. I was pitted against the friend of my brother's friends and this kid was intimidated by me. I heard that he was scared to go against me and that there was much hype building behind the scenes. I didn't give it too much though because, to reiterate, I did not care. No one will ever care about anything unless they give themselves to it. It is not possible to hurt or inspire he who does not lend his heart to the matter at hand. So, our match began. This match is utterly indicative of who I was as a wrestler.

I ran out of breath pretty quick but I never gave in. I was tired and did not go the extra mile, but I never gave up. For what felt like such a long time, we did the same dance over and over. He would get me down and I'd get back up only for him to get me down again, but never did he pin me. I was at the precipice of caring, of giving my heart to the struggle but I never did. I did not have the insight at the time and neither did anyone to tell me that to feel like a winner, I'd need to want to be one. I guess my win here was that I didn't quit and that was what I truly cared about. My coaches disapproving looks did not affect me nor did the hooting and hollering of the other team much get to me either. In fact, I was glad that I could inspire such boisterous joy for their whole team! It pleased me that even though I lost, they felt like they won.

If only people knew what was really going on between eachother, if only we knew who's really winning and who's not. If only we knew the unsaid details of our passions and dreams; of our victories and failures. If we knew, then that opposing team who lost their minds when they watched me lose would rethink they're conquering. They would grow silent when they realize that the guy with the massive intimidating muscles doesn't have the heart enough to really give you a run for your money. They'd sigh and look towards the next bout, the serious match between two fierce forces.

I'm glad I wrestled. It gave me much insight into who I am. I am still to this day trying my best to change. I am not a quitter, that's God given. But to be a winner, well I have to really earn that, and in my experience, that takes all of me.

Write A Review

Nonfiction Writing Contest contest entry

Pays one point and 2 member cents.

You need to login or register to write reviews. It's quick! We only ask four questions to new members.

My wrestling discoveries

It is All or Nothing

by Bryce 1

Browse Now