Friday, April 5, 2013

Yours is the Earth. My Father, High School Wrestling and the Profession of Becoming



In Pennsylvania, the sport of wrestling is a culture.  I come from a wrestling family.  My uncles, my cousins, my brother and my father wrestled.  My cousin’s husband is a high school wrestling coach in a small town in Western Pennsylvania.  My aunts, my grandmothers, my female cousins all have their own wrestling stories from having attended numerous matches.  I have watched my mother laughingly ‘arm drag’ my high school coach as well as my six-year-old nephew. 

Even though I was one of the smaller kids growing up, there was never any doubt that I would wrestle. 

For the uninitiated, Wrestling is a niche sport, odd, cultish and difficult to appreciate.  The sport involves quick reflexes, strength, agility, strategy, determination, endurance, and a monk like approach to training.  The athletes push their bodies, run countless miles, weight train, and obsess over their diet and weight.

Then, when the time to compete arrives, the wrestlers are completely alone.  The pressure of winning or losing is magnified during the walk out onto the mat, facing down the opponent.  Not only does the body have to be ready, the will to win has to be as strong.  Even then, preparation is no guarantee of a win.

As is the case that not every High School Quarterback gets the chance to play at a pro level, very few wrestlers ever get to compete at the highest levels.  

However, for those that have gone through a season, or several seasons in their youth, the lessons and habits learned through training and competition are drawn upon daily.


The best coaches are those that are able to use the sport as a teaching lesson for how to manage extreme emotions while focusing that excess energy into achieving long-term goals.  All wrestlers will face adversity, set backs, anxieties, and fears of failure.  However, the successful wrestlers are those that can learn from the negative to reach a positive, no matter the win/loss record. 

The coaches, the athletes, the fans that are consumed by results, by any means, including fear, intimidation, are missing a huge aspect of what the sport is.

As I struggled through my high school career, with various highs and lows, my father was insistent that I keep my focus, keep working, keep improving.  I was learning life lessons about perseverance.  Similar lessons that my father learned from his high school wrestling coach. 

Recently, my father was contacted by his high school wrestling coach, Stan Dubelle.  Coach Dubelle was the wrestling coach for Trinity High School during the 1950s and 60s in Washington, Pennsylvania.  Washington, my parents’ hometown, is located in the Western foothills of the Appalachia Mountains, Southwest of Pittsburgh.  Dubelle coached several state champions, WPIAL champs, and conference champs in what many considered the toughest area of the toughest state in the country for scholastic wrestling.  

After retiring from coaching in the 60s, Dubelle went onto a career in administration.  Since his retirement, Dubelle has reflected back on his teaching and coaching career.  As part of writing his memoirs, Dubelle has reached out to former students and athletes, asking them for important recollections.

I’m posting a portion of my father’s reply to Coach Dubelle’s questionnaire as well as Dubelle’s response to my father’s answers.  


Trinity High School Questionnaire for Coach Dubelle – March, 2013

Memories

1.             I was 2 pounds over for my very first official weigh-in as a freshman.
Taking advantage of a teaching moment, Coach gave me 1,000 sit-ups per pound. I worked them off over a couple of weeks, reporting in each day. Result - I never missed another weigh-in in my life.

2.             Every practice my freshman and sophomore year I worked with Jerry Lattimore*. The wrestling I learned was invaluable. Eventually I could do an arm drag from any position at any time. More importantly, I also made a good friend. Jerry gave me his practice uniform when he graduated. Years later I found the tights in a box of old mementos. They were faded and worn, the leather kneepads were hanging off, and the foot straps were frayed.  Only a wrestler would keep second hand, smelly old practice pants. And yet, they brought back some great memories.
*Jerry Lattimore was a two time Pennsylvania State high school wrestling champion.

3.             My junior year Coach had Brother Bahanna and I eliminate EVERY week. The winner would wrestle the varsity matches the following week. We were so close, some of our best wrestling happened in the practice room. I won the week before the first Waynesburg match.

Friday night, the new gym was packed and loud, standing room only - Waynesburg was a big deal back then. At 145 was a kid named Jim Higgins, who would be WPIAL champ that year. Both Brother and I dressed for the match. Since Brother was a senior, I wore a reserve uniform. I couldn’t have been very intimidating. Maybe as a human sacrifice, or as a brilliant tactical move, Coach gave me the match.
At the whistle I tried a soufflé. Of course he countered easily, and I was immediately behind. After that, time slowed down and breath became scarce. I was probably getting thrown around, and remember seeing the big bright ceiling lights of the new gym. At some point I guess he was anxious to put me away. He tried to put in a half, riding perpendicular on my left, without any leg coverage. The spirit of Jerry Lattimore laughed in my ear, and I reached back over his arm and pulled a reverse-arm drag. Bang, his face hit the mat, I scissored, threw my own half, drove, and he was on his back. There was a noise explosion. People were crouched at the edge of the mat, slamming the floor and screaming. He fought off the fall and the buzzer sounded.
The second and third periods are a blur to me now, as they were then.
I know I was on my back again, and fought it off. But he tried another uncovered half. So I did another reverse arm drag and again put him on his back. The match became a scramble as we ran up the score. I got a nosebleed, and injury time was called. I went to the bench and as the trainer stuffed cotton up my nose, I noticed the only thing I could hear was the funny crackling static in my head, and my gasps for air. Coach and Assistant Coach Joe Shook were yelling something, but through my fog I could barely make out their words. I think Coach said something instructive, but Joe just shouted, “Tommy! Stay off your back, kid, and you’ve got him.” In the third Higgins was still working from the side. I actually was lucid enough to bait him one more time for the half-reverse drag counter-half chain. It worked again, and I put him on his back one last time. The buzzer saved me from blacking out from lack of oxygen, and signaled an unforgettable rite of passage. I had stepped on the mat in an important dual meet, against a worthy opponent, wrestled to exhaustion, and helped the team with an unlikely win. I was a wrestler!

The next day in the practice room Coach posted his notes from the match. Something like, “Nice arm drags. Work on staying off your back. There will be eliminations this week.” What? Not “fantastic, amazing, stupendous?” No, he knew there was work to be done and lessons to be learned. Perspective, humility, grit. You’re only as good as your next win. Wrestling is a journey to a distant horizon, and we were just beginning.

That night I picked up Karen (we married years later), and her Dad (my future Father-in-law) said, “Hey, I saw you wrestle last night. You really beat that kid up. Nice match.”  What more could a guy ask?


Meanings and Muses


In his book Turning Pro the novelist and author Steven Pressfield writes about becoming a professional in your chosen craft. I think his thoughts speak directly to becoming a wrestler, so I’ll paraphrase his words, substituting “wrestler” for professional.

‘Wrestling is A Practice. To “have A Practice” in yoga, say, or tai chi, or wrestling, is to follow a rigorous, prescribed regimen with the intention of elevating the mind and the spirit to a higher level.
      A Practice implies engagement in a ritual. A Practice may be defined as the dedicated, daily exercise of commitment, will, and focused intention, aimed, on one level at the achievement of mastery in a field, but on a loftier level, intended to produce a communion with a power greater than ourselves – call it whatever you like: God, mind, soul, Self, the muse, the super-conscious.
A Practice has a place, and that space is sacred. A Practice has a time, and that time is precious. When we convene day upon day in the same place and time, a powerful energy builds up around us. This is the energy of our intention, of our dedication, of our commitment, of our work, of our connection.
Once we are wrestlers, we’re like sharks who have tasted blood, or renunciants who have glimpsed the face of God. For us, there is no finish line. No bell ends the bout. Life is the hunt. Life itself is the pursuit. When our hearts burst…then we’ll go out, and no sooner.”


 Subject: Re: Questionnaire My Reply


Dear Tom,
        
         With care and caring, I twice read your response to our Questionnaire and I will read it again while I am responding. At the outset, I must tell you, the individual bout you described is one of the best remembered bouts, not only by you, but also by  your high school coach. I suspect others will also remember it, especially Higgins who didn't know, at the time, what was "hitting him." But you, Jerry, and I knew. You might be even more pleased to know that that particular counter, the reverse arm drag, was born in our wrestling room. 
         During each of my ten years, I would show it, have you guys practice it (mostly as a "quick counters"), and also as part of "our" unique chain wrestling drills. You, Tom, took ownership of the counter, having honed it with Jerry and your practice partners. I never knew when or even whether any one of you would have occasion to use the counter. You did have the most the most telling occasion. (I wish I had that on film or tape.) 
         You didn't have a lot of use for the drag in our practice room, for I always warned you wrestlers, "Never shoot a half nelson from the far side!" (Due to the possibility of a reverse drag.) Were I to have known how other coaches didn't coach their wrestlers on the "drag counter," I might have shown a couple of pin possibilities with a far half nelson. Pins are being had by wrestlers today, still without thought or reaction by the reverse drag from the underneath wrestler. on the defense. (Wanna go on tour, Tom? Me to admonish, you to demonstrate? With an artificial knee, my surgeon doesn't allow me to get on the mat. Bummer!)
         Back to your bout for a couple more points: you mentioned, ". . . the buzzer saved me from blacking out . . . ."  I think your superior conditioning saved you. Recall how in practices you guys were sometimes worked to exhaustion? That was just for such an occasion as you so clearly described. As your trainer/conditioner, the only thing I couldn't provide was the pressure of actual competition (combat). That element I couldn't provide was something you carried with you in your heart and mind to your bout on that night. That, Tom Weirich, exemplifies WHO you are!
         Another point I'd like to bring to your attention in regard to what was said to you during the time on the edge of the mat when you were getting your bleeding nose stuffed with cotton. Mr. Shook's word's you accurately remembered: "Stay off your back, kid, and you've got him."  I don't remember my actual words, but they were something to the effect "You've got him wondering," (that remark was meant to keep you thinking offense), "take it to him" (again, toward being on the offense.) I didn't want to waste advice telling you what not to do (like staying off your back, which was to have you think defensively; but Shook's 2nd message was bang on; (". . . and you've got him!")
         Another thing . . . you included in your description of countering Higgins' far half nelson, by "baiting him" to do put in the far half nelson – for a third time –  from the far side: after you dragged under his arm you mentioned, ". . . I scissored" to get to the top position. Most guys would have tried to scoot around to the behind position. Your scissoring was the coup de grace that put Higgins on his back. Scissoring after the drag is far superior, much faster, and more impressive to an opponent than scooting to his back. That was one reason why your half nelson was available for putting him on his back, i.e, you had him "wondering." I even think you had him bewildered. One final thing – and I don't mean to encroach on your already good memory. 
         The ultimate goal of mastering chain wrestling was to enable your muscles to "think" before your brain. You THS wrestlers had imbued in your muscles, your tendons, and your very bones a reaction before  without thinking. Many wrestlers said words to me to the effect, "Mr. Dubelle, I didn't even think to use the back heel" (OR) "I got the inside crotch before I knew my arm was there" (OR) "Geez, I was re-switching him before I thought about it." 
         You, Tom, practiced diligently, with the right attitude. It paid off for you as well as the team in this match.
         One final thing: When you described the next day's practice after your Herculean match (my description) and specifically my posted notes of "Nice arm drags; work on staying off your back" and the absence of any comments like "fantastic, amazing, stupendous" you got it right.  
         You actually gave an answer to your own quandary when you drew the conclusion, "No, he knew there was work to be done and lessons to be learned." I am a believer and practitioner of one of the tenets of Zen philosophy, specifically: Before the Illumination, there is water to carry and wood to be chopped; after the illumination, there is water to be carried and wood to be chopped.
         I liked very much your addition of "Meaning and Muses" at the end of your questionnaire. I will read it again (and probably again), and after each reading I will muse. Musing is a Tylerdalian's way of saying, "I will think on it." You do remember that Tylerdale is a section of the metropolis of Washington, Pennsylvania? I am one of the former denizens of that aforementioned part of Wershington, Pa.

Thank you for the well thought out and meaning-filled completion of the Questionnaire.

Respectfully,

Stan Dubelle




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