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Shouts echo in the room,
Sweat drips from the wrestlers.
The mat is as moist a May morning.
My coach he yells and then he shouts.
‘Ring ‘em round and bring ‘em down’.
These words echo through my head.
As I sweat, under my opponent,
My mind goes to mysterious places.
“Embrace the grind,” I hear him shout.
Sweat, toil and tears.
Win a victory.
Go to state.
Half Nelson, body pulled in every direction.
Stand-up, stand-out, escape.
Ankle pick. Takedown.
Float like a butterfly,
Sting like a bee.
I wake up from a distant dream.
Of victory and joy.
A shout from my coach and I am back.
Back to embrace the grind of reality,
Back to embrace the rewards of endurance.
When I run or wrestle or tussle in the grass,
Thoughts of my coach go through my head.
Embrace the grind. Be a victor.
I’m forever a victor, because of my coach.