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| Photo courtesy of Robert G. |
A Story From the Life of Robert G.
Ghostwritten by his daughter, Grace G.
The Battle Between Mind & Soul
It wasn’t until my State Wrestling Tournament as a Senior in high school, that I learned I could achieve something miraculous. Like any normal teen, I believed that my skill and physical toughness were the only major components needed to win a match throughout my wrestling career. Close to thirty years later, I’ve realized that winning in not based on physical ability alone, it’s both your strong mentality and a committed heart that need to work together in order for you to succeed.
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My ankle twisted in the opposite direction, making me cry out in pain. The fire began in my toes and rocketed through my ankle. My opponent took charge of my slight moment of panic and shifted my body to the left in order to set up for the killing pin.
“Come on, Rob! Push through! You’re almost done! You can get out of this one!” cheered my teammates on the sidelines. I twisted a little, squirmed a few seconds longer and rolled to my left, freeing myself from my opponent’s grasp. I popped into a squatting position in order to set up for my opponent’s next attack. But my left leg stumbled. It was beginning to shake erratically. It couldn’t hold my body weight for that much longer. Something was terribly wrong. I decided to make one last dive in an attempt to trap my opponent. Nope. Nothing but air. I fell forward as my opponent dodged my feeble attempt and suctioned his fingers onto my maroon singlet while his right leg shot out simultaneously to trip me from behind. I fell like a wooden board to the century old wrestling mat. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t ignore the pain shooting up my leg. It was excruciating. All I could feel and be in that moment was the throbbing of my ankle and the pounding of my heart. A cold sweat was beginning to break out on my brow and I could almost feel each individual bead of sweat roll down my face, connecting and regrouping together like rain drops on a car windshield.
“Time!” called the ref crouched a few feet away from my mangled body. With the end of the match, my opponent, the number one seed in the state, gracefully picked himself off the mat and sauntered away with one arm held into the sky.
Victory.
I groaned as I attempted to shift my weight. I could barely move. Every muscle in my body was refusing to get up. A few deep breaths later, I gritted my teeth and gradually slid into a standing position while shifting all my weight onto my right leg.
“It’s okay Rob. That was a tough match to start off the day with. We’ll get you taped up and ready to go for the next match in no time,” assured Coach Johnson as he met me halfway to the end of the mat. All I could do was bob my head in agreement while hopping one-legged to an open bench about twenty feet away. I settled with a relieved sigh as my one hundred and forty pound body relaxed onto a splintering bench.
“Here we go. Some tape and a wrap. We will fix this tiny problem and secure your win at your next match! It will be a doozy for you.” I attempted to lift my cheeks in what I hoped to be an encouraging smile.
I can’t believe I just lost by ten points to the number one seed in the state and I somehow injured myself in the process! That’s just great. Even if I do win the next two matches, I won’t be able to run the next morning in order to make weight properly! Either way it’s a lose-lose situation…
“Rob? You okay? Do you need some food or water or anything? I can go get some for you?” questioned Coach as a concerned expression flickered across his face.
“Oh no. I’m fine. I just need some Aspirin and I’ll be ready to go!”
“Alright then! Let me finish this wrap and then you can relax for a while before you step onto that mat again,” he replied with a wink. I thanked him a second time while glancing around the gym. First, towards the ceiling at the American flags lined up in a row, then down at the ground where I tried to focus on my Coach’s wrinkled hands bob up and down like a buoy in the sea as he wrapped my injured ankle. Worry and doubt had begun to form in the back of my mind. Will I be able to fight through this pain and win?
--
Coach was right, I had nothing to worry about. The next match was indeed a doozy. The kid in front of me was all skin and bones. There wasn’t an ounce of meat on him compared to my muscular build. Within minutes, I had my opponent beat and pinned on the ground.
“Time!” the ref announced. This match, it was my turn to face the cheering crowd and raise my fist into the the sky.
Victory.
“Great match; Rob! I told you this was going to be a breeze! I’m going to check on that ankle of yours and then we will get you warmed up for your final match. Remember, if you win this one, you will move onto the second day of States.”
“Thanks Coach!” I replied mildly out of breath, “I won’t let you down!” Lies. Those words were only half of the truth. My mind and heart were at war with each other. I felt both mentally and physically slow while my heart began pumping erratically just thinking about the exciting match ahead of me.
--
The last match went back and forth. One point for me, one for him. One escape for me, one attack for him. By the last period, we were all tied up. With thirty seconds left, It was time for me to make my move. I continued to dance around him, waiting for the one perfect moment to catch him off guard. There! I faked a dive to the left but rolled to the right in order to tackle him from behind. My opponent fell for the first dive and realized his mistake a second too late. I pounced on top of him and grabbed his left arm. I stretched it over his head while applying pressure to the back of his neck. There was no way for him to escape. I was an iron bar. I am going to win! I could really do this! The clock continued to tick away like a bomb. All I had to do was grasp his arms to keep him trapped and I would be victorious. But as the last five seconds ticked down, my opponent gave one last heaving effort to escape.
“Time!” shouted the referee.
A roar erupted from the crowd.
A hand was shoved into the air.
Victory!
But it wasn’t my hand.
I had lost by one single escaping point.
Disbelievingly, I limped off the mat and stopped in front of my coach as the cheers for my opponent threatened to tear my heart apart. Coach just stared at me for a few moments with solemn grey eyes. Then, with a deep sigh he straightened and murmured,
“You needed to be a dog on a bone. You shouldn’t have given it up.” I nodded in agreement. There were no words to describe the pain blooming in my chest and leaking through my body. It was just cold. Cold and despairing. I had just given up something that meant the world to me, even though I could have easily saved it. I was so confused. My world had been tipped upside down and I didn’t know how or why it had happened. After a few more tense words, I thanked my coach and left the Eastern Lansing High School gymnasium along with my wrestling career far behind me.
--
The next day, I was on crutches. My ankle was severely swollen and continued to send painful tremors throughout my body. It wasn’t broken, but it was useless. Just like my wrestling career, it was finished but not totally broken. Just there, tickling the back of my mind. Reminding me of the anguish and animosity I initially felt for the years following my last match. Instead of facing the truth, I made a list of excuses for my performance that day,
“If only I could have won that match the week before States, then I wouldn’t have had to wrestle the number one seed right off the bat and injure myself in the process. I would have been in the second day of the tournament without an injured foot. I would have been able to compete to my full potential. If only I hadn’t… If only… If only… If only…”
My regrets continued to pile up for many years after that final wrestling match of my career. However, after almost thirty years of experiences and hardships, I’ve finally realized that the only person to blame for the mistakes made that day, was me. I had always believed that my skills and positivity would get me through my matches but in reality, it’s both your mental toughness and a committed heart that allow you to achieve your goals in life.
