You'd never know by looking at him. You'd never know by hanging out with him. I was one of the only ones he ever told. Friends who'd known him for 10, 15 years were unaware. On a random day, at a random moment, during a five minute break he walked up to me and asked during 12 ANGRY MEN rehearsal, "Did you wrestle in high school?" I replied that I did and he said that he was a three time state qualifier.
I looked him up and sure enough, 119 lbs as a sophomore and 125 lbs as a junior and senior he had made Iowa's illustrious state tournament. A two time class 3A District champion, ranked as high as fifth during his career. Yet, here I was the "wrestler" in our group of thespians. Here he was having been a somebody that did something in the sport, achieved something that people note and remember, and I was the one everybody saw as the "wrestler." He never mentioned wrestling again after that day. He spent six years in the sport, and upon finishing 1-2 at the 1997 Iowa State Championships, disconnected from the sport, all but to share in a brief bonding moment with me a similar background.
And here I am. 65-70 career record. Never won a conference title. Never won a sectional title. I didn't even qualify for districts. The highlights of my career are a handful of notable victories, a win over the #10 ranked kid in the state and moments where I lost but walked off the mat respected because of the fight that I showed. Why I wasn't good and why I didn't achieve much in the sport is up for debate. People are always going to have their opinions and I'm always going to have mine. Why aside, a good wrestler, I was not.
I wasn't even mediocre. I achieved nothing during my wrestling career that is of any significance. I'm proud of the hardest working wrestler of the year awards I won as a freshman, junior and senior. The Tim Fritchen Spirit Award I received my senior year for the most dedicated and hard working student of the class of 2004, nominated for my dedication and passion in wrestling (as well as theatre) is one of my most cherished possessions. Yet they're both a reflection of the drive and fixation I have within me when it comes to something I want. Not in wrestling itself.
Truth is I've tried hard to be a part of something that has rejected me the entire time I've tried to be a part of it. I never made it as a wrestler, so I figured that I might make it within the sport in a another way. Our sport is very unforgiving of a lack of accomplishments, so I knew coaching was out of the question. It's one thing to be a wrestler that "never did" as long as the potential was there. To be the one that was one match away from state, that lost the close match to the eventual third place medalist. It's another thing to be the guy that lost in the go-to districts match to the guy that went 0-2 at districts, getting pinned each time. I'm sure someone somewhere might have brought me on as the guy that supervised the kids during their lifting, but also the guy that the kids were told to not listen to, because "he doesn't know anything."
While I don't necessarily think a deity is behind them, I do believe that life gives us signs. And if I am to be honest with myself, the signs I've received trying to make it as a writer/journalist/historian for the sport of wrestling have all been, "You are not welcome here. Get out." Sometimes the reasoning has been fair. I've made my own mistakes, and I'll own up to what it is that I've done wrong. Other times I feel the wrong has been committed against me. Our sport although continuously getting better, is still rather exclusionary. The society likes to think of itself as conservative and Christian. I'm not either, and I do believe...I know it has had something to do with why I haven't made it further.
When my professional wrestling career came to an end, I decided to let it go. That I would take opportunities if they came to me, but I wasn't going to continue whoring myself out for bookings in a desperate attempt to save grace. I knew I hadn't made it to the top, I was never going to make it to the top and my best days were behind me. I'll still go back and relieve that nostalgia when I'm made the offer. I'll enjoy the moments shall they come, but I no longer search for them. I no longer beg for them.
My whole life I've searched for somewhere to belong. Something I could be known for. Something I could excel at. Something I could be good at.
I can't rightly say how good of an actor I am, but I'm a better actor than I ever was a amateur wrestler. I'm a professional wrestler that only a small number of people ever knew and even a smaller number of people remember; but I'm still a better professional wrestler than I ever was an amateur wrestler.
I'm 1,000 times the creative writer that I am the amateur wrestler.
But I'm not known as the theatre guy or the actor. I'm not known as the pro wrestler. I'm not known as the writer. I'm known as the amateur wrestling guy.
After what I went through last year, I had to stop and reflect on what life was telling me. I find myself in such a deep, dark, lonely state of depression and I had to ask myself why. Another editor of a renowned wrestling publication came to me and asked if I would do work for them. I wanted so badly to agree and even said I'd try and do a piece for them by mid October. Normally I'd have researched, did interviews and written the article within a week. I couldn't do it this time. I feel bad about letting someone down and giving him reason to think things about me that aren't true, but I couldn't bring myself to it. All I could think about is how I've spent over twenty years trying to gain the acceptance of a sport that has continuously rejected me. I suppose that this might have been it. This might have been the one time where it finally worked out and it didn't end in yet another disaster.
That's the cruelty of hope isn't it? As long as it's there, you'll always want to try. Yet when is enough, enough? Where is the moment when never give up becomes the acceptable time to know when to quit?
I'll never stop loving this sport. I'll always be a fan of it. On the surface it won't seem as if much as changed. I'll still blog about it from time to time when I feel compelled to. I'll still post on facebook and tweet about it. I'll still be one of the top contributing members of The Wrestling Insider, and a member of the various amateur wrestling groups that I'm a part of on facebook. If Mike Houston gets credentials and ask me to cover events or Theopenmat decides to use me after all, I'll do that too.
Externally it's as if everything is the same, but internally its a peace of mind.
I wanted to be a great amateur wrestler. I wasn't.
I wanted to be a great, well known and beloved amateur wrestling journalist/writer/historian. I'm not. I probably never will be.
That world doesn't want me or at least it hasn't for the past nearly 12 years. It's time to move on.
I'm a creative writer. I'm an actor. I'm something. God there has to be something that I'm good at. Somewhere, where I belong. Something that I'm meant to do. Something that I'm meant to be.
Amateur wrestling isn't it, and I finally accept that.
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