Amanda Jimenez

Crocker

English 101

9/11/12

The Journey of Wrestling

               The beginning of my junior year was difficult to adjust to. I now had to focus my attention on school and wrestling. This was my first year joining the team, which meant I would finally get to compete in a wrestling match for the first time. My goal was to win at least one match against a boy, and to receive at least some respect from my coaches and teammates.

               Over the summer, I had attended every wrestling practice held. However, the boys didn’t like the idea of another girl joining the team. They thought, eventually I would quit or slowly stop showing up to practices, and would never take the sport seriously. The coaches and the team felt that girls could never succeed in this sport because you almost have to make wrestling your life, and have it in mind 24/7. Since all the girls who have joined the team in the past demonstrated only lack of commitment, they assumed all girls were like this. Therefore, the boys developed a habit of ignoring any female on the team. Also, most of the coaches tried to avoid teaching or paying attention to female wrestlers as well.

In my opinion, there was only one coach that had compassion and treated the girls as an equal. We all call him Coach Ray. Coach Ray is a very tall man, over six feet, with a bald head and had the friendliest welcoming smile you could have ever seen. He is what I like to call “a gentle giant.” The other three were tough, difficult, and sometimes mean or harsh. There was Coach Buck; he was a tall muscular man whom could pass for a football player. He had a deep voice and occasionally wore glasses, but he still had the most intimidating appearance. Coach Shrope was the smallest, yet toughest and strongest for his size. He was about five feet and eight inches tall, made of pure muscle. Coach Ray, Coach Buck, and Coach Shrope were all in their late twenties, and knew each other from high school. So naturally, they all got along better than they did with Coach V. Coach V was the oldest of them all, and had taught wrestling the longest.  He was in his late fifties, and was still as energetic, tough, and competitive as the rest of them. However, Coach V had a mean streak, which made him the cruelest coach I’ve ever had.

That year, only I and another girl were on the boy’s team. The reason there wasn’t a girls team, was because there were never enough girls trying out for wrestling. Being one of two girls on the team made it really difficult. Crystal was unkind, and hardly ever spoke a word to me. This made me feel like an outcast, but I tried to just focus my attention on improving my wrestling skills. It was difficult getting used to the team. The workouts seemed tougher, and the coaches were very hard on all of us. Coach Buck would say, “We are only preparing you mentally, if you can push yourself beyond your breaking point now, then you can do so in a match.” I would try to keep this in mind whenever I felt insanely tired, or when my muscles felt so burnt out I almost wanted to cry. The only other saying that helped me stay strong, was when Coach Ray would repeat, “Don’t cheat the workout, because you’re only hurting yourself. You need to push yourself in order to improve. Make yourself better.” I kept these words and other positive thoughts in my head, the whole year. The team would tease me about being the worst person on the team. I was constantly insulted by Coach V about how terrible I am, and how it must be that all girls are terrible. He would tell my wrestling partners not to go easy on me, and kick the crap out of me if they could. Finally, he would yell at me from across the room that I didn’t belong, and hadn’t made any progress. After all this, I just continued to push myself even harder.

               Unfortunately, toward the end of my junior year not much had changed. Every match I wrestled against a boy, I had lost. The only matches I had won were against girls, and it was only because they were more terrible then I. This did not satisfy me at all. On top of being discriminated against, I began to lose faith in myself. My positive thinking began to dim, and I started to think wrestling wasn’t for me. I was disappointed in myself, and wanted to give up.

 The last match I had during my junior year was against a girl. She was a very good wrestler, and was known for being a tough competitor, which was why she had won many matches against boy and girl wrestlers. So obviously, I was incredibly nervous for my match. However, I just kept telling myself that it was only one match, and to just get it over with. As I stepped onto the mat, I was prepared to listen out for Coach Ray’s commands. In my head, I was prepared to lose. I knew she was better than me, and almost didn’t care to try. After the referee blew the whistle, I circled the mat with my opponent unenthusiastically. That year, I had not taken one shot in a match. A shot is an attempt to score a takedown, which is worth two points. I was afraid to shoot, because every time I did so at practice, it never paid off. Therefore, I did not plan to shoot during this match. Suddenly, I heard new voices on the sidelines shouting things like “set up your shot.” And, “C’mon Amanda look alive out there, make her move how you want.” I was surprised to realize these comments came from my teammates. For the first time, they were paying attention to my match. Confidence shot through me, and I began to move with the idea of taking a shot. In the third and final round, I jolted forward attempting to score a double, which is a two leg takedown, but she saw it coming. She sprawled on me, with her hip down on my shoulder blade. Then while I was buried deep into the mat, she shifted her body over mine to score those final two points. I was devastated to hear the whistle blow signaling the end of the match. I was filled with shame and frustration, but not for the reasons I would have thought. I wasn’t ashamed and angry because I had lost my final match of the year. It was because, for the first time ever, my teammates had supported me during a match; and I felt I had let them down and would never earn their respect.

That summer after junior year, I worked harder than ever before. I was lifting only ten pounds less than all the other boys in my weight class. I was drinking protein shakes, and running everyday to keep my weight down. At practice, I was asking for help on my technique, which helped me learn certain moves faster. I was preparing myself physically and mentally for the long and final wrestling season of my career. This time, I was determined to win most of my matches, and improve on my wrestling skills.

               Finally, most of the wrestlers who knew me last year, befriended me in an instant. They were often conversing with me in the weight room and in the mat room. The varsity wrestlers in my weight class didn’t mind going over technique with me, and seemed willing to help. The new members of the team automatically treated me with respect, after seeing how friendly the boys and Coach Ray acted towards me. We would make jokes, and have fun listening to music while working out. I started to look forward to practice, and for the first time, I felt like part of the team.

Unfortunately, I was the only girl on the wrestling team my senior year. However, because I was now accepted by the guys, it didn’t make much difference to me. Making friends wasn’t the only positive change for the season. I was still on the junior varsity team, but had improved exceptionally. Now, I was winning most of my matches, even against boys. It was getting to the point where I had an overall record of 11 wins and only 3 losses, during the first month of the season. This made me feel like a significant contribution to the team. The boys took notice to my transition and so did Coach V. Unintentionally, I caught Coach V’s eye, which would change the rest of my season.

Coach V had a goal for me. He told me there was a State Championship Tournament for girls wrestling. He said “by the way you’re wrestling, you can go far this year.” I nodded my head, but didn’t listen completely. Still, I had trouble letting go of the hate I felt towards him from last year. Eventually, I learned to somewhat forgive him, and focused my attention on the State Championships he spoke of. In order to receive that information, I simply asked Coach Ray. “The top eight girls that place at State, receive a medal and can qualify for Nationals,” he said. This meant that I could compete with female wrestlers all over the world. However, my main focus was only to place in the top eight. “Okay” I said, “What do I have to do to go?” “You have to place in the top twelve, at the girls CIF Tournament, in order to qualify for State,” he replied. That sounded easy enough to me. I had wrestled in a few girls tournaments, and it was a whole lot easier than wrestling boys. Since any female wrestler was allowed to compete in the CIF Tournament, placing in the top twelve should be no problem, I thought to myself.

The remaining month of January and beginning of February was brutal. Coach V ran private practices with me, when wrestling season ended for the junior varsity team. Also, I would sometimes have to practice with varsity wrestlers at different schools, whom were competing in the boy’s CIF Tournament. This made me start to detest wrestling practice. Either I had to spend the evening practicing with extremely talented and strong wrestlers, who threw me around the mat like a rag doll. Or I had to stay at Oxnard High School’s gym, and practice with only one other wrestler, with Coach V breathing down my neck. Also, he would correct any slight imperfection of my technique, and order me to lift weights during my partner’s breaks; and have me sprint until I haven’t a breath left in my body. That man pushed me to my absolute limit, and the only reason I put up with it was because I wanted it to pay off.

The CIF Girls Wrestling Tournament was held in Beaumont, California. To my surprise, there were about thirty girls in my weight class. However, I only felt a slight amount of pressure in placing in the top twelve. My goal was to place as high as I could at the CIF Tournament, so I could have a better chance at placing in the California State Tournament for girls wrestling. The tournament separated over a period of two days. On the first day, I won all my matches and left fairly early that evening to rest at the hotel. Unfortunately, I struggled the second day. I had won my first match but lost my second one. The girl who beat me, placed second at the Mexican Nationals, which I discovered after my match. So the highest I could place, was third.

The day was almost at its end, and I was determined to take third place. The girl I was going to face looked like a typical female wrestler. She was taller than most girls in my weight class, but did not have any knee pads on, which told me she did not like to shoot. Most of the girls, I noticed preferred to throw head locks and throw, rather than perform a single or double leg takedown. It wasn’t long before I was on my color at the edge of the circle, waiting for the whistle to be blown. Once again I began to circle the mat with my opponent, trying not to stay too close, or it would surely result in a head lock attack. I took a shot, but it did no good. As I began to stand back up, it was too late. She had snuck in an under hook, and threw me to my back. I fought to my stomach, but the damage was done. The score was five to zero, with only two minutes left in the match. In order to win, I would have to pin my opponent, which is an automatic win. Or I would have to score a takedown, and some back points. I quickly took a shot, and nailed her to the mat. She quickly turned onto her stomach, and I tried to turn her to her back frantically. I tried every move I knew to get her to her back, but she fought back intensively.  I was running out of ideas, until Coach V told me to let her up to score another takedown. Following his direction, I stood away and right when she stood up, I hurled my body at her for another double leg takedown. The girl sprawled hard on me, but I was determined to finish my shot. We were at a stalemate for the remaining thirty seconds on the clock, and I had failed to take third place. Even after that close match, Coach Ray and Coach V still congratulated me for taking forth place and qualifying for the State Tournament. This is when the most shocking words floated out of Coach V’s mouth, “I’m proud of you.”

A week later, I entered Lemoore High School for the California State Tournament for girls wrestling. At this point, I was extremely nervous feeling only knots in my stomach. The school seemed to be located in the middle of nowhere, but had a large campus. As I entered the gym, I was astonished to find six purple wrestling mats, with yellow trim. This was definitely a girls’ only competition, I thought to myself. As, I waited for my first match, Coach V had me warm up with him on the sidelines. The warm up quickly turned into a workout for me when he had me take practice shots on his solid immovable legs. Then he had me sprawl on him, while trying to move him away from me but it was no use. Coach V had the grip of a grizzly bear, and trying to push him away was like trying to move a wall.

               At last, I was minutes away from my first match, and extremely tired, but warmed up. However, my luck had seemed to run out. It turned out they had mistakenly kept a disqualified wrestler in the competition. The wrestler pointed out their mistake right away, and I won by a “forfeit.” Therefore, I had the misfortune of continuing to “warm up” with Coach V. By my second and last match of the day, I was more tired than ready, but winning would guarantee me a spot into the top four so I had to try.

               The match was very close, but in the end I lost by two points. After my match, Coach V seemed to be more discouraged than me. “There’s still a chance I can place tomorrow Coach,” I said sounding hopeful.  Coach V just sighed and we both walked back to the gym and went our separate ways back to the hotel. I was very surprised at how Coach V reacted. It seemed he was taking this tournament very close to heart. Then I realized I was too; mainly because it was my last year to wrestle and I wanted to finish as a State placer.

               Before I knew it, it was morning, and it was time to get ready for my final matches of my wrestling career. Once again, I warmed up with Coach V, in hopes I would be ready and win. It all came down to my first match; if I won I would be eligible to place in the top eight. If I lost, I would be sent home with only memories. Finally, I was called up ready to fight for a chance to receive a medal. The referee had us shake hands, and then blew the whistle. I dove into the bottom half of her body; making it look more like a tackle instead of a takedown. We scrambled out of bounds, and quickly returned to the middle. I was up by two points; so when the referee asked me if I wanted to stay neutral, I said yes. This meant we both would restart in the positions we were in at the beginning of the match. Since my shot paid off the first time, I took another. Only this time she anticipated my takedown, and swiftly reversed it, and wound up on top. She then hurled my body over with a chicken wing and a wrist and received three more points. The score was now five to four, with only a minute left on the clock. Out of desperation, I attempted a risky move to score back points, but failed. I managed to score one point, but injured my shoulder in doing so and had eliminated my chances of winning. She reversed me and was now scoring three more points against me. The referee blew his whistle, and the match was over. I had lost my chance of ever making history; by a score of ten to five. Emotions of devastation filled me with sadness and despair. As soon as I walked off the mat, tears ran down my face. “It’s all over,” I thought to myself. A little while after, Coach V walked over to me. “Amanda” he said, “you have nothing to be ashamed of. What you did out there was honorable, and you should be proud.” Coach Ray gave me a pat on the back and one of his famous wide grins of reassurance.

               Looking back on this journey, I learned a lot about myself. Wrestling, for me was never about trying to be the best. It was more about me accomplishing my dreams, and pushing myself to my fullest potential. In the end, I did not place at the California State Tournament for girls wrestling. However, I won the respect of my coaches and teammates. I have proven with the right motivation, anything is possible. This is what I feel was worth more than a medal.