The following article is for all of those people who have wondered how wrestlers feel about their sport, and why they make so many sacrafices to be able to continue in the sport.
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I have overcome much adversity in my life, from being legally deaf in one ear to going through a very intrusive back surgery for scoliosis. I have learned alot about myself during these trying times. I have learned that I can achieve whatever I want by working hard and keeping focused on the problem at hand. I was able to return to the wrestling mat and perform even better than I had prior to my surgery because of the many long and hard hours of rehabilitation and training. I feel that many younger wrestlers look to me for direction, and I feel that I have stood out as a positive role model for them both on and off the mat.
Below is a story I recently wrote about the sacrafices and dedication I have shown towards the sport of wrestling. I am hoping that you will see this, and realize that I am willing to make the same sacrafices towards my education.
Six Minutes
After being born deaf in my left ear, and having major spinal surgery, I never thought that I would be able to wrestle again. After a year of rehabilitation, and hard work, I was able to return to the sport that I loved, posting one of my best season's to date. I was able to stay undefeatd in our league until one late Wednsday night, this is a story of how that match went.
As I step onto the soft padded mat in the center of the gymnasium, a million and one thoughts run through my mind. As I approach the announcers table to give my name, my heart races, almost as if it will leap out of my chest. Step by step, I get closer to that little colored line in the center of the wrestling mat. I have already begun sweating. Finally, as if it were years later, I place my foot on that line, and just as I hear the whistle blow, all my thoughts of fear, doubt, nervousness, and anxiousness all leave my mind. I focus on the task at hand. I can feel my opponent's hands grasp my leg, instinctually I move it away from him. I give my all for six straight hard minutes, wretched with more highs and lows, then any one person should experience in their entire life. For six, gut-wrenching minutes, I experience pain, exhaustion, fear, and exhilaration. Nevertheless, I would not have even made it to this point, if it wasn't for the weeks of dedication, and preparation that I took to get myself ready for this wrestling match.
During the weeks leading up to the wrestling match against what would prove to be my toughest opponent to date, I had to dedicate my mind and body entirely to the wrestling room. From the moment I got out of school until almost six o'clock in the evening, I would attend practice. During practice, I would run, drill, lift, and wrestle. After this grueling practice, I would go home, consume a small salad for dinner, then go out, and run, to burn off the calories I had acquired during dinner. Upon arriving home, I would go down into my basement, and perform a regimented workout that I set for myself. Then I would complete my schoolwork. At this time, it would be close to ten o'clock, and I would head off to bed. All of this to prepare me for six minutes, six minutes that would decide the very best in the county, six minutes that would dictate the outcome of our teams score, six minutes that I would never forget.
As we both approached each other during the introduction to shake hands, we wished each other well, not only because we had to, but because we both wanted the other one to perform at his very best. Neither of us wanted to win because the other person wasn't feeling good, or was hurt. We wanted to earn the victory. The tension that I felt was great, the pressure was tremendous, but I tried to block it out and focus. I went over the moves I was going to do at least one hundred times in my head, but now, minutes before I was to take my place on the center stage, my mind was drawing a blank. However, I knew that it was there, somewhere in my head, I just had to bring it out.
As we both approached the center of the mat, and the referee gave us the rundown of the rules, we stared menacingly into each others eyes, not because of hatred, but because of desire. I didn't see another wrestler on the other side of the mat, I saw a warrior that wanted to take something that belonged to me, something I had earned. I know that he was looking at me the same way. As the sound of the whistle broke the silence of the room, the last thing I heard was one last "C'mon Glenn!" after that, in my mind, it was complete silence. The only thing I could hear was my opponent's heart pounding, his lungs gasping for air, not finding enough to soothe its struggle. We rolled around for what seemed to be an eternity, but I know was only a couple of minutes. At the end of the second of three periods, the scoreboard informed me that I was down by six points; I needed a miracle to win. That third period was one of the hardest of my life, and then finally, just when it looked like it was all over, I got a break, and was able to throw my opponent to his back. I could feel him struggling to get away; I could see the clock counting down. It was already at twenty seconds. There was no way I could get both his shoulders to hit the mat in twenty seconds, he was frantically moving around trying to free himself, and then I heard it, the buzzer had sounded, the match was over. I had lost. As I shook his hand for the final time, I could see the look of victory in his eyes, a look that I had just experienced no more then a minute ago. However, I knew that the day was his, and that was it, just the day, because we would meet again, and the outcome could go in my favor. So until that day comes, I will never stop training, and I will always prepare myself, because in life, you always have to be prepared for your toughest opponent, no matter what it is.
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This article was written by one of the finest wrestlers I have ever had the pleasure to watch. MY SON MICHAEL-PATRICK GLENN
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