Wrestling is the stress response intensified. The whistle blows. You have only 6 minutes to impose your will. Your heart is beating faster than a speeding bullet. Your lips are chapped. Your stomach hurts. But, you are relaxed. Your mind is clear, focused. There is an air of barbarism associated with this sport, but it is controlled. Each movement –- every level change, sprawl, and takedown — must be precise. It requires a perfect blend of technicality and physicality that you refine with experience.

I do not undertake this experience alone, but with my teammates, a ragtag group of boys, who I am proud to call my family. With each practice we push each other to our limits, and I wouldn’t have developed into the wrestler, or man, I am today if it wasn’t for the upper classmen who manhandled me when I was just scrawny freshman.