See this boy. This is one of my boys. My wrestling boy. A boy I am extremely proud of. A boy who despite being my son taught me a lesson this weekend. A lesson, that honestly takes most people much longer to realize than 15 short years.
We were at the Section III Class B tournament this weekend. J was seeded #3 in his weight class. Something that surprised him, excited him, and made him proud. I joked with him "Imagine if you actually tried!" He went into the tournament head high, expecting some hard work ahead of him, but determined.
First match - piece of cake. 2nd match much the same. The score was 10-5, 5 seconds were left on the clock. With only 3 seconds left, J was put on his back. Buzzer went off at the exact same time the ref slapped the mat. Pinned.
I will never forget the look on my boy's face, or the way 2 seconds literally changed everything. He was the better wrestler, but he got caught in a position he couldn't get out of and had lost. He shook hands with the opponent, with the coaches. The anguish clearly visible. He regained his composure, walked off the mat, and into the locker room for a few minutes to himself.
I have seen so many wrestlers lose their cool at this point, the disappointment he felt must have been massive, yet he held his head high as he shook hands and left the mat. Despite the sadness I felt for him, I couldn't help but feel a pang of pride.
The true character of a man is shown under adversity.
He went on to place 4th in the tournament - he took 6th last year as a primarily JV wrestler, so not bad for a Sophomore. He will wrestle in the Section III Wrestling Championships this weekend.
My dad always said that wrestling taught life lessons that nothing else could. As a wrestler, you were part of a team, who counted on you, but also, an individual, who could have goals and stats that far outranked any team you were on. The best of both worlds - team player and independent.
As his mother, my heart hurt over the loss, over 2 seconds. Days later I still couldn't wrap my head around it, so when I caught J alone in the kitchen I brought up the tournament. I told him that I was still having a hard time understanding what had happened, and couldn't imagine how it felt for him. He looked at me and said, "It's not even going to matter in few years." He didn't say it like it didn't matter, he said it like he accepted it for what it was and was okay with it. I realized then that he had been listening all these years. No amount of dwelling on how much it literally sucked, the outcome would never be different. Accept, improve, be better next time.
Here was my boy, taking a curve ball like the champion he is. Being a champion doesn't always mean you place first. Being a champion means that you can overcome any obstacle life throws you. It means you hold your head high and accept yourself fully.
See this boy. He's my boy, and he's a champion.
