Back in middle school, my passion for watching pro wrestling as a kid led me to dabble with actual competitive wrestling. Yes, I knew they weren’t the same thing, but somehow the idea of being a “wrestler” just sounded cool to me, so my Dad bought me a fancy singlet, head gear and wrestling shoes and off I went!
I was in no way a natural. In fact, quite the opposite. I was scrawny and lanky, and had the opposite of a “wrestler’s body.” The most successful wrestlers were usually the short, bulky types who could attack the lower body with strength and ferocity. Me? I would literally fall on my ass trying to execute a single leg takedown.
But for whatever reason, I kept at it. My freshman year in high school, I wrestled in the 95 pound weight class. Yes, that’s right - NINETY-FIVE POUNDS. And I didn’t have to suck any weight to get there. And by the end of the season, I had as many wins as I did pounds to lose - ZERO.
And nevertheless, he persisted.
I returned my sophomore year, and still wasn’t exactly an all-star wrestler, but I did make that Varsity squad and upgraded to the 103 pound weight class. I wrestled for an entire season, and while I had improved I still found myself completely outmatched on the mat and lacking the confidence to execute what I had learned in practice in the live setting. I essentially had stage fright. I could win a match against a teammate in practice, but when I found myself under the gymnasium lights I would find myself looking up at them, usually within the first round.
I felt like a loser. Almost every wrestler on the team at least managed to squeak out one win against a rookie opponent, but not old Marc Clair. I completed a full season on the varsity team, and repeated my win total from the previous year - ZERO.
And nevertheless…
I returned for my junior year with a new passion and fire. I continued with wrestling camps over the summer. Even after TWO FULL YEARS with ZERO wins, I returned to the team, this time at the 112 pound weight class. I had to actually compete to make the team at this weight class, and my competition was a wrestler who came from a family of wrestlers - his older brother was an all star wrestler and he had been wrestling longer than I had.
But I was determined. I wasn’t going to be a loser anymore. I had “fire” in my eyes (as my Coach would later detail to my father), as I defeated my opponent in a matchup to determine who would take the Varsity spot and who would ride the bench hoping for a Junior Varsity exhibition. I finally had a win!
But still, this was behind the closed doors of the practice gym. But now I knew I could win, even against a skilled opponent. I was no longer afraid.
I won my first match of the season, pinning my opponent in the first round.
I won my second match, also pinning my opponent quickly.
I’d love to say I went on to win every match and become the State Champion, but this doesn’t have that kind of fairy tale ending.
I placed third in my first tournament that year. I went on to win many matches, and lose others.
My worst loss came to an opponent from New Milford, CT. This guy was known as a killer, and a killer he was in our first encounter, wrapping me up like a pretzel and pinning me quickly.
I felt like a loser again.
But nevertheless…ok, enough of that. I kept going. Winning some, losing some.
And then we got to the big matchup. New Fairfield vs New Milford, longtime rival teams facing off in an important matchup between the top two teams in the conference.
In a team vs team wrestling matchup, every point counts. A pin fall win would net the team 6 points, while a loss by points would net either 4 or 5 depending on the margin of victory.
My Coach knew I had been defeated by this opponent soundly before. He knew I felt outmatched. Heck, I was outmatched. But he looked me in the eyes and said “go out there, do your best, and leave nothing on the mat.”
Ok.
I was taken down immediately.
But I didn’t flop over to my back and get pinned like a fish as I did in our first encounter.
Instead, I grabbed my opponent’s wrist, lifted my right knee, and reached around through his back leg and reversed his ass! 2 points!
It wasn’t going to be so easy to take down old Marc Clair this time.
In the fairy tale version, I go on to defeat my opponent in dramatic last-minute fashion a la The Karate Kid.
But not in this version.
I was still outmatched, and I did largely get my ass handed to me for the next six minutes. I barely escaped being pinned several times, being saved only by the whistle.
But I never gave up. I never got pinned.
I lost the match.
But the crowd was going wild!
My efforts were noticed, and the Coach grabbed my hand harder than he ever had, pulled me in close and looked me in the eye and said “That was the best effort I’ve ever seen from you - GREAT JOB!”. My teammates bombarded me with high fives and hugs.
We went on to win the matchup. And the conference.
By one point.
If I had simply given up and gotten pinned, we would have lost the matchup and subsequently the conference. By simply not giving up and refusing to be pinned, I gave our team the margin of victory.
If you’re waiting for me to turn this into a political point of some kind, I’m sorry to disappoint you. This just a story from my life that I hope will inspire you in some way.
Also, here’s a picture to prove this story at least could be true.
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Great story my man loved watching you guys compete in high school great team!!! AJ
Nice story, Marc! Vin Ricci shared it with me. I’m pretty sure I was in college by the time you were at 112. You guys were a great team those last few years because everyone dug in and contributed what they could, just like you recounted here. Thanks for sharing. Bobby Serrano