The horn blares through my headphones, and all I can see is a sea of screaming faces, twisted mouths screaming at me but all I can hear is the music. All I hear are the blaring melodies, the fusion of an electric guitar and a thick bass line and I know it’s time!
The scoreboard reads HOME:24, AWAY:26 and were down. But its simple, all I have do is win and we win. Across the great dented mat “J. J” stands motionless trying to pierce my gaze, we are unwavering he breaks first and removes his warmup’s, he’s put on some muscle and he’s got himself a walk to go with his new pumped body. he is ready to go and he trots onto the mat with his head up high but I make him wait.
Always make them wait Gil says so I slowly take my warm up off, my dark blue button ups already soaked heavy in sweat. Finally, I take my headphones off and the roar of the crowd makes me want to puke. Every dreadful thought crashes into me, why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be here! My mind screams this guy is going to kill you in front of everyone! And before I know it I’ am already onto the mat. My viens are thick and pumping with adrenaline, and with every step I can feel my ‘Asics” sinking into the mat and then the anxiety begins to change to focus. My muscles loosen, my body accepts that were going to be in another fight, and by the looks of it, its going to be a grueling one.
The referee places us in the center of mat. I see “J. J’s” face for the first time in a long time, he smiles a shit eaten grin but I only nod. I focus on his legs and stance trying to find openings. He’s my prey now bigger and stronger than me but I must feed or be fed upon. He’s our cross-town rival, and this was a great high school rivalry with history, winner will take all. ” you ready” The referee says we both nod, our toes dug deep into the mat, hands in front of us, we slap hands hard and then the whistle blows.
Cutting weight is bullshit! I hate cutting weight and I think everyone else does too. it’s the worst thing ever, I’ve played every major sport and none even comes close to the discipline and hard work that it takes to wrestle. Not only do you have to be strong and have a chess like mind, but you also must make weight! Not only drill endless moves and beat each other up every day at practice but you can’t eat your favorite snack after a long beating.
Wrestling season is in winter all the best “pig out” days are in winter. Thanksgiving how I love you, Christmas tamales you’re a beauty, and new year’s Pozole, come on, but no all I get is sorry for you fat boy you must make weight, maybe when you’re out of high school. And you must make weight, because if you don’t, your coach and team mates will make your life a living hell. Coaches despise a boy who can’t make weight, despise I tell you. You can’t wrestle if you miss weight and thus you are disqualified and you just lost to yourself and gave up points to the other team.
Cutting weight is different for everyone. you must be in tune with your body otherwise you could die! Cutting weight feels like your dying though, a lot of guys on my team take to the dehydration method of cutting pounds. some of my teammates use Lemon-Heads or Skittles to make saliva and then spit it out in bottles throughout the whole day, you’ve probably seen these kids with big bottles of spit walking around school, it’s very gross but it can sometimes be very effective in moving the needle.
Throughout the day I have 3 small meals and 2 small snacks usually carrots or wheat thins, you always must be conscious to eat to only satisfy and never to get full, this is key. Eventually its like your stomach shrinks and you dont need to consume much food to feel full. With all this you may still be struggling to make weight I know I did, it felt like I grew taller every winter and with the growing it made the weight harder to keep down. I could usually lose 3 pounds during practice and when I ‘d get home I’d eat my last meal and then go out and jog If there’s still time after a jog I go do some drills in my yard and get another good lather going. Keeping up with this regimen is incredibly tough, throw in homework, and long road trips, and you find yourself cranky fucking all day.
The whistle blows! and “J. J” quickly gets out of the start line and circles around me, I stay put and pivot on one foot, keeping his face in front of mine. he tries to lock up, but I see it coming and throw him off me. he slaps me on the head quickly and as I go to shield the second one coming he shoots in on my legs. Somehow, I catch him just in time and stuff the takedown. “J. J” is trying to be the aggressor, his heads down and he’s trying to bully me, he charges hard at me and I let him go for it and as he goes to lockup with me I drop dead under him and then explode back up and drive through him easily, he’s weightless as I drive him into the mat with a “Double leg” take down. He’s quick though, and he’s on his belly instantly and he’s scrambling to get up.
He’s on all fours he lifts his right leg up trying to stand up but I sink in my leg into his inner thigh to stop him from getting up. The “leg ride” works and I immediately try to flatten him out but he’s so god damn strong he’s hard to hold down. His legs are so much bigger than min and he won’t stop moving and trying to get up. The fuckers explosive and I can feel my grip loosening and my forearms are burning. On the mat it feels like hours have passed but it’s only been seconds, when will this round end!
J.J. is too strong and good to keep down for long and then the fucker is up and that’s 1 point for an “escape” for him. J.J. bounces up and down shaking his massive legs then smiles at me, he shakes his arms lose brandishing thick veins and swollen biceps, I get a bad feeling, and I feel like ive used up too much energy I’m feeling low, I feel starved and too sleep depraved to win, another hard weight cut is going to make this one long night. J.J. crouches down in a lower stance slapping the mat with both hands the crowd goes wild, and he’s ready to attack again, fuck.
In 2001 I remember the first day of practice I was in 7th grade and I was sitting on the mat stretching when I saw him come in, the kid who would become known as “J.J.” and my friend. “J. J” was new to the sport. I took him under my wing and showed him everything I knew, he was a fast learner and we grew up to make each other better he grew to be so good he made varsity the very next year.
Another whistle blows and J.J.’s weight is off me like a bag of bricks, I get up off the matt blood runs down my nose ‘J. J” had taken me down hard striking red gold, he’d been beating the shit out me the whole round. in the corner the sports medicine girl is cleaning me up and shoving cut tampons in both my nostril I see my lead is gone and the score is now tied. My head is swimming and my muscles ache with exhaustion. Coach yells at me and tells me I need to be more aggressive and control the match. before he can tell me anymore the next round begins and I can see J.J.’s mom across the mat on the away team’s side. “J. J” is still smiling at me and I can hear coach’s voice “man up, come on” he yells.
Another way to really lose weight fast is to wrap yourself in a sweat suit. you put that bad boy on and run until your little legs can’t take no more and I’ll guarantee you’ll be lighter the next day. This method would seem to be the first choice, but this method of weight cut destroys you, and you can’t drink anything until after you weigh in. and even after you replenish your left with a headache and the worst feeling of dehydration you’ve ever known.
In our last year together in middle school ‘J.J” had made a name for himself beating a lot of good wrestlers, he even won the all city tournament for his weight class while I lost in the finals in mine. I chalked it up to a bad cut, I had lost by only a point, questions of my heart and will had surfaced. On our bus ride home that night “J. J” had thrown it in my face, perhaps he was taking ownership of a team. I was leaving for high school “I got my championship, where’s yours” he had said. I sat in silence showered by the ooh’s and ah’s of our teammates, what could I say? nothing. I carried the anger with me to high-school I used it as fuel for the work that was to come. I prayed to meet “J. J” in a high stakes match, and wouldn’t you know it the wrestling gods had answered my prayers.
The next round begins with my adrenaline dumped. Exhausted and lethargic, with everyone watching and the pressure high, J.J begins another run and begins his assault on me, scoring takedown after takedown and reversals upon reversals, we were like two little lizards twisting and fighting for positions, and before I knew it I was down by 6 points. when the ref signals the end of the round J.J. is still on top of me, I can’t seem to shake the fucker off me!
In the corner coach pleads with me to “Wake UP! How do you want to be remembered!” he yells. Gil and my team mates are yelling out “Last round!” “Last round!” “Finish strong!” “You got to shoot Jaime!” “Throw him on his ass!” Gil says, I hear him clearly through the holes of my head gear and through the roar of the crowd. The horn blares for the last round and the crowd stomps their feet and the cheers fill my exhausted body with a sense of fear, a sense of shame and embarrassment I cannot take it and I won’t take losing like this, win or lose I’ll go out swinging. I walk to the center of the mat, my blue and white singlet smeared with my own blood. J.J. not smiling at me anymore, he doesn’t look so fresh anymore! He looks tired, a “mouse” has begun to form under his left eye its dark and purple already.
You want to know the best way to cut weight? It’s easy just wrestle at practice like you do when the real thing is going on. Each match is 3 pounds maybe more, each 3-minute round feels like an eternity. You may be asking yourself why struggle to lose all those pounds, why put yourself through all the hunger, through all the sleeplessness? Why do all that? How good could it possibly feel to win?
The whistle blows and there’s a sea of screaming faces, there’s small children and prodigies getting their first taste of what will be waiting for them one day. There is also the faces of all the old timers and ex warriors living vicariously through us, those old souls wishing they still had one more match in them. With everything on the line nothing is better, this is what we do it all for.
We slap hands and begin the final round, he tries to lock up immediately, but I throw him of. He’s circling around me tapping and slapping my head trying to get an angle. I conserve my energy and only pivot keeping my hands in front of him, he’s hesitating now going in an and out, It’s hard to read his movements and then I realize what he’s doing. He’s killing time! He’s done wrestling offensively and is now just trying to ride it out on survivor mood. He’s not willing to do anything dumb to put himself in a position to lose, he wants to coast he thinks the match is over. The time is ticking, my mouth is dry and it taste of bloody Iron. The crowd is chanting his name, they too believe it’s over. He continues to circle I try locking up but he’s pushing me off. He won’t engage anymore! Time is running and the loser wont wrestle! “He’s stalling” I hear coach yell at the referee. Finally, a bone is thrown my way and the ref calls stalling on him and takes a point away.
J.J. reacts to the call and it’s the only opening I need as his pride is hurt and he tries to forcibly locks up with me, I pull his head closer to me and in a quick push and pull of his head he fucks up and steps forward I snatch his head as I imagine a croc must do to his prey and Ive caught his right arm and his entire head and proceed to throw the shit out of him.
I jerk on his neck and arm violently his whole body goes over my hip and he lands hard on the mat, I puncture his air with my free falling weight and he’s gasping for air, digging his finger nails into my shoulder, the air completely sucked out of him. I hear the mad roar and the frantic stomping of the crowd. the clocks ticking and J.J is struggling to live, I squeeze and squeeze like my life depended on it I squeeze his neck and arm so hard I feel like I’m going to pass out and then I hear that beautiful sound, that heavenly relief of the ref’s hand slap the mat hard!
Pin! it’s all over! I Win!
My teammates go wild screaming and cheering, the whole gym erupts, and they shower me with love, I can’t stop smiling. I stand alone in the center of the mat exhausted and cramping my hand can barely be raised by the ref I can’t hear anything, my whole-body aches, I’m beaten up bad, but the crowd holds me up and I know it’s over, truly the best part of any match is when it’s over, when the belief in one’s self is realized, and all the past suffering and shame is turned into pride.
J.J. shakes my hand and we hug each other “Good match man” I tell him. “Yeah” he says. We slap hands and I limp to celebrate, the coach is still yelling at me “Where the fuck was that in the beginning of the match” he says and pats my head.
The team comes to me and they start patting me on the back and giving me high fives, my arms are shot and every high five hurts like hell, with everything hurting my brothers come to congratulate me. I’m still sleep deprived and cranky but I am also hungry as shit and eyeing a victory hot dog.
That match had taught me so much about myself, about the limits I could push and not break. Hard work always pays off, I had always thought then that id face J.J. again but it never happened, the wind had blown in a different direction for my friend, and he was gone the next year. It was the last time I had seen him, pitted against someone in a one on one contest you grow to respect them, every single person you face, and I had grown an incredible new respect for my friend.
He nearly had me, he had pushed me to the brink and a strange intimacy was shared between us in competition, one that would never leave us, like battle scar’s It was our choice how we would take them, be it a good one or a bad one.
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