Saturday, January 19, 2013

My First High School Wrestling Match

And, it's safe to say, my last high school wrestling match as well.

In fact, if you (a) wrestled in high school and (b) remember it fondly as a team-building, esteem-boosting, overall positive experience, you can go ahead and close this browser right now. Because what I'm about to say contains 0% fictional embellishment, and I don't want to offend anyone with all my truthiness.

There. You have been warned.

So we enter the North Oldham High School gym– the floor littered with clusters of boys practicing moves in their warm-up sweats. Immediately The Voice of Will Arnett comes into my head with a running commentary on the fact that although these kids are probably all straight, they sure do like rolling around and pulling each others' clothes off. I informed him that this was just a normal-no-spooning-all-American-family-outing-sporting-event. But then it started and out came the retro bathing suits.

"I don't know why the ref yells 'play ball' at the beginning of every match," said Megan. The Voice of Will Arnett suggested that he might have an idea, but I never heard what it was because all of a sudden we were distracted by two cherub-faced ninth-graders trying to rip each others' heads off like a Stephanie Meyer vampire fight. (Seriously, some Twilight choreographer got supes overpaid on that one because all the franchise needed was a high school wrestling coach.)

Our entire evening could be summed up in this one picture.
P.S. Only one guy in the crowd is having a good time.

PROBLEMS WITH SINGLETS: (and yes, there are many)
  • I can see wayyy more of your anatomy than I paid to see with my five-dollar ticket. I have to look down at my feet every two seconds because I feel so uncomfortable about the way you are straddling that skinny boy in that tight spandex leotard. Please get off of him.
  • Hey you, heavyweight. I think it's awesome you're on the team and I love your movie. But your straps have shifted, so now your left boob is hanging out and you look as uncomfortable as I feel and I sure wish that guy would get off of you.
  • Seriously, singlets are the ONE type of sports garb that has not been updated since 1920. Remember how shortie basketball shorts used to be?? Yeah, someone realized that was a bad idea so we sloughed them all off to the cross country kids and invented knee-length basketball shorts so that young women would have something to wear to girls camp. Is a wetsuit really too much to ask for, here?

  • This is coming from a person whose greatest capacity for violence is winning Risk– but I'm pretty sure that if Jesus was an athlete, He wouldn't pick a sport focused on dominating other people. (what would He pick? badminton?) All those headlocks made me so nervous, the whole time I felt like I should be yelling "Hey! You quit being so mean to him!" Because I was seriously concerned someone was going to break something. 
  • The method of ensuring that really big guys don't go up against really small guys quickly devolves into school-sponsored anorexia. Obviously, we don't want our daughters to compulsively weigh themselves multiple times a day or starve to rapidly lose some l-bees. But it's fine if boys do it, because they're doing it together and they all get sweatpants and medals for it. I mean, they probably won't have to "recover." But call me crazy, I just like being around people who eat; it assures me they aren't robots. 
  • Girls who wrestle. (There were two that night.) Here's the deal. If you forfeit to a girl, you lose. If you wrestle a girl and beat her, what have you really won? This is the most awkward situation ever. Thanks a lot, Title IX.

I have this irrational fear that one day I'll be Freaky-Friday body-switched with an athlete right before a big play. Meg and I discussed various strategies we could take if we suddenly found ourselves inside the ring:

1. Dodge your opponent by running around the circle for two minutes, like a bad game of keep-away.
2. Act all friendly and then when they grab your neck just be like "Hey brah, what's your deal?"
3. The cat paw swat, which actually seemed to work pretty well for a few people. for a few seconds.
4. Just scream "Don't pin me!" and immediately flop down on your back.

On the plus side, since my darling brother got knee surgery yesterday, his season is officially over.


Double-stuffed mint Oreos. Chocolate milk. Doughnuts (hot). Chocolate chip cookies. No-bake cookies. Supreme bars– they're brownies with little bits of cookie in them. Ice cream. French fries. Wendy's frosty. Cheesecake. Pie– mango, pumpkin, and yogurt. Rice Krispies. Fast food. A 99 (ice cream cone with a Flake bar stuck in the middle.) Chocolate candy. Dad's favorite chocolate cake.
"I'm sure I could have thought of more."

New Year's Resolutions are for suckers.

1 comment:

  1. I can't even tell you the number of wrestling matches I've attended and really past the age of three they're just awful. The preschoolers are cute because they basically do what you, your sister, and any self respecting female would do as mentioned above, but beyond that it is just troublesome.