Lessons I learned while I wore a wrestling singlet

Sometimes it’s difficult to pin down a subject that you want to write about and your muse advises you to dig into the memory banks and churn out a story before deadline. I like to call these “reflective commentaries” where I look back on one or several memories — moments that are G-PG rated and suitable for all audiences — and ponder on some of the lessons I learned from those experiences. This week I’m lucky because winter sports have started, which means wrestling season has begun.

High school wrestling has a special place in my heart. I was fortunate to cover the Cheney High wrestling team — a program that has a great heritage — when I started at the Free Press in December 2013. I also covered the sport back in wolf Point, Mont., though sports fans back there were more into basketball than wrestling.

Another reason wrestling has a special place in my heart is that I wrestled my sophomore year and was a member of the illustrious junior varsity at Rogers High School. Sports teach kids valuable lessons and I learned a couple of those during my one season in a purple and gold singlet.

One lesson I learned was that physical pain is the weakest thing in your body. Whether it was the soreness of the chest muscles after a workout — or the feeling that my shoulder was going to pop out of place as one of the captains was stretching me — physical pain is only temporarily and it eventually goes away.

The other important lesson I learned was to celebrate the victories you earn, no matter how small or insignificant they may seem.

It was the final home match of the season and we were up against North Central. Earlier that day my friend Kristie, who was on the JV cheerleader squad, left me a sign on my chair that said “Go Allen.”

I wrestled the second match of the evening. I took down the NC kid in the first round and kept him on the mat. In the second round, I prevented him from escaping the bottom position, though he inadvertently elbowed me in the right eye in the final 90 seconds. In the third round, he escaped my grasp, only for me to take him down again. As soon as the referee raised my hand — without thinking about it — I pointed to Kristie and said “that was for you baby!” The right side of the gym filled with a combination of applause and laughter. For the next couple of weeks my teammates would point at me and say, “Stoves, that was for you.”

Joking aside, my teammates assured me that what I did was cool. Although Kristie said my action was a little embarrassing, it was also the most flattering thing anyone had done for her at the time. What made the match special was that it was my only win during the regular season and at a school that, at the time, was known for terrible football and basketball teams, you had to celebrate any victory you got.

With wrestling season ahead, I’ll once again sacrifice some of my evenings and weekends — like I do for all sports — but it will be worth it.

Al Stover can be reached at al@cheneyfreepress.com.