BRIDGE TOMMY, BRIDGE!
While other
kids used the off season to rest up and put on weight, wrestlers fought to
“make weight” or lose pounds in order to compete in a lower weight class. Working out in sweats in a 90 degree gym and
feasting on carrot sticks and celery during the teen years probably resulted in
stunted growth for several of our football players.
I never
wrestled higher than junior varsity and my record was about 50/50. I generally won by a pin, or lost by a pin; I
just did not have the stamina to go the full nine minutes of a three period
match. Much as I despised wrestling it
did provide some good stories.
In one
tournament I was matched against a kid from Hunterdon Central, a known New
Jersey wrestling powerhouse school at the time.
I expected a tough match and was surprised to find from the very start
that my opponent was not a very good wrestler.
At the referees first whistle I had this kid on his back.
He was not
an experienced wrestler, but he was a tough competitor and would not give in to
a pin. He bridged (arching ones back
while lifting your shoulders off the mat to avoid being pinned) the entire
first period. During the whole time I
had him in a near pin, there was a loud clear voice from the thin crowd
exhorting him to avoid defeat.
“Bridge
Tommy bridge…move Tommy move…fight Tommy, move…bridge Tommy bridge.”
This voice
did not stop for the whole first period as I attempted to pin my man. In the second period I once again took down
my inexperienced but gutsy opponent and had him on his back in a near pin
situation. The voice from the crowd rang
out loud and clear once again.
“Bridge
Tommy bridge…move Tommy move…fight Tommy, move…bridge Tommy bridge.”
For almost
three minutes the voice did not stop rooting this kid on, and in turn he
refused to be pinned.
The third
period was more of the same. I had “Tommy”
on his back, and the voice from the crowd could not be missed.
“Bridge
Tommy bridge…move Tommy move…fight Tommy, move…bridge Tommy bridge.”
With only
seconds left in the match, my opponent’s strength finally sapped and just
before he gave up and submitted to being pinned he screamed out at the top of
his lungs,
“WOULD YOU SHUT UP MOTHER!”
As much as I
hated this sport, it did teach me in later years to root for my own children silently.
Ah ha ha!! L.O.V.E This!!!
ReplyDeleteFormer wrestling mom. AND my ex-husband was a wrestler with the father that you could hear above everyone in the crowd. Thanks for giving me a great laugh & rewind of the memory. As a mom, I HATED wrestling season. My son was a grumpy pain in the butt dieting. Eating peanut butter only, spitting all the time. UGH!
hahahah. my brothers wrestled. In fact, my twin brothers would decide each year who would take the lower weight. All I remember is them bundled up, running up and down the stairs in the basement. They played football too. hmmmm
ReplyDeleteYou made me spit coffee on my computer--would you please hand me that paper towel?
ReplyDeleteHow much stamina is packed into an average carrot?
ReplyDeleteI had no sons to cheer for, but did have a girlfriend with a son. Those little kids play on regulation football fields! I would get so involved in the game my friend worried we'd be thrown out. Eventually she quit asking me to go.
haha...I think i might know the mom!
ReplyDeleteI'm sure your kids would love to send a "thank you" note to Tommy's mom. :)
ReplyDeleteS
I think I've just had a glimpse into my future. I'm sure that my kids will turn around one day and say the same to me. I admit I'm a vocal soccer/futsal mum, but I try to only say encouraging things, honest.
ReplyDeleteToo bad all parents don't root for their kids calmly or quietly.
ReplyDelete