If a wrestler is cutting weight when Thanksgiving day arrives he has two choices. He can limit the amount he eats or he can throw caution to the wind and chow down. Thanksgiving wasn't so bad during my senior year. I'd finally wised up a little and learned to count calories. You can eat quite a bit of turkey and plain green beans without taking in too many calories. You have to skip the pumpkin pie though. A modest slice of pumpkin pie has a bit over 300 calories. But, 300 calories is a lot when you have to make weight for a dual meet a week later. My freshman year I didn't need to cut weight because I naturally weighed near the weight required by that class.
I like our wrestling room. It's fairly big and it's all ours. If you're not a wrestler or wrestling alumni then stay the hell out. I've been using this room since I had a short wrestling intramural unit in fifth grade. Guess who presided over the wrestling intramural? The P.E. teacher who also happened to be the head basketball coach.
Sometimes we run laps or sprints in the gymnasium. It's usually occupied by the basketball players though. Damn bubble bouncers. That's what our coach calls them. Bubble bouncers. We call them whatever we want. What are they going to do? You think they're going to mess with a wrestler? Hah!
The boys basketball coach thinks we're all crazy.
"They don't eat. They stink." he says.
I guess he finds a group of dudes who are always dieting and always sweating in layers of clothing in an 80 degree practice room a tad bizarre.
We usually use the "old" gym that's part of our two story high school that was built in 1914. The old gym is a sunken or basement gym with concrete steps on each side leading down to the gym floor. We sometimes run across the gym floor, up one flight of steps, across the landing at the top, and then down the other flight of steps. Sometimes we just run sprints on the gym floor. This old gym somehow feels like a fitting place for wrestlers to train. It's our gladiator pit. It's our dungeon.
Practice usually begins with us running laps around the wrestling room to warm up. Then we do some stretching and calisthenics. Then we usually do some passive takedowns with a partner. We take turns taking each other down with little resistance from our partner. It's just to warm up. But, then things get serious and we go hard for a minute or two on our feet. Take your partner down and let him up and try not to get taken down. Sometimes we wrestle a six minute match with our partner. Sometimes we get into groups of four to wrestle. Each guy is on his feet twice wrestling two different guys and then takes a breather before getting back into the mix again.
We practice technique like, say, pinning combinations. We lift weights occasionally. Sometimes we do a countdown from ten. Ten push ups, sit ups, jumping jacks, burpees, mountain climbers, and laps around the room. Then nine reps of each. Then eight reps of each. You get the idea.
Sometimes we all get in a big circle. We go around the circle each choosing a callisthenic exercise to perform. We go around the circle a couple of times. I choose push ups. Mike (Chip), a senior during my freshman year, says, "Oh, you man!"
During my freshman year I have a shampoo in my locker called Body on Tap. "Body on Tap Shampoo. Brewed with one third real beer! But don't drink it!"
One night Chip wants to use some of my shampoo. Someone says, "Now Chip, don't drink that."
Brut Cologne is in my locker as well. Hell, yeah! Brut Cologne. I'll be fighting the ladies off.
Chris and Brad, two other seniors during my freshman year, have a tradition of playing Pac Man every night after practice. There was an arcade in our little town for a year or two. It was the eighties after all. Chris drives a new Camaro. But, I prefer Randy's Monte Carlo. Randy gives me rides home sometimes as a freshman when my older sister Deb can't.
When I was a freshman my sister was a junior. One night after wrestling practice she's still in basketball practice in the 1940s gymnasium. The practice is almost over but the coach has a proposition. If someone can make ten free throws the girls won't have to run "killers." He picks my sister for some reason. So, what happens? She sinks all ten.
Later I hear her say to the coach, "You chose me because you didn't think I could do it. You should have more faith in me."
Well, that's the way I remember it anyway.
Practice became torture when I started cutting weight. Guess what? You can't practice very hard when you haven't eaten for a few days. Imagine that.
During my sophomore year, we practiced with Waukon one evening toward the end of the season leading up to sectionals. After practice we stopped at a convenience store. Some of the guys got out to buy stuff to eat and drink. I stayed in the car because I was over my weight and sure as hell couldn't be eating or even drinking anything. Brad P. stayed in the car with me. Brad was like 180 lbs. of muscle. He wasn't watching his weight. The guys asked him if he was coming in to get something and he said he was okay and was going to wait in the car. Maybe he wasn't hungry or thirsty. Maybe he didn't want to spoil his appetite for dinner. But, I like to think that he was showing solidarity with me.
I know you can't eat or drink anything, brother, so I'm not going to either.
Is that what he was thinking? Probably not. Just my corny imagination. Nonetheless, I still like to think he was thinking of me and trying to help me stay strong and not feel so bad.
One week during my senior year I decide I am not going to be taken down by any of my teammates the entire week. And, for those days of practice no one can take me down. Why didn't I have that attitude all the time?
Every night after practice during my senior year I drink a diet pop. I buy a diet soda from Casey's every night after practice. Remember Tab Cola? How about Diet Rite? There was even a diet cola with a touch of lemon flavor called Pepsi Light.
Before practice one evening during my senior year our coach said a few words about an upcoming dual meet. He asked if anyone had anything to add. I said I had a few words to add.
"I think tomorrow night we're going to show them what a Postville wrestler is made of. Strength! Determination! Dedication! Because I know that no one on this team going to let up until the final whistle blows. Win or lose our opponents are going to pray they never have to face a Postville wrestler again.
Because we are going to be relentless. We are going to pound them into the mat so fiercely and dominate them so thoroughly they will dread having to ever face a Postville wrestler again! We will not let up until victory is ours!"
Okay, I never said any such thing. I wish I would have. I was kind of quiet back then.
Wrestling practice was a lot of fun at times. Sometimes it was torture. I didn't know about the so-called 10,000 hour rule back then. It may or may not be true that 10,000 hours of "deliberate" practice lead to becoming world-class in any given field but there definitely seems to be something about the power of repetition. I could have drilled and practiced with a lot more focus.
I go through moves in my apartment sometimes. I'll have to get on the mat again someday. I want to see if I still "got it." I'm not doing a count down from ten though. And, I haven't worn Brut in years.
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