Wrestling Season Begins...

Well, its that time again boys and girls.
That time of year when several nights each week and every weekend are booked up for the next several months. When free time and sleeping in on a chilly Saturday morning are naught but a faint, wishful memory. When loading into the car at 4:30 in the morning to drive several hours to spend 8-10 hours sitting on hard bleachers waiting for that six minutes of excitement and hopefully, glory. Hour after hour spent in a hot, humid gymnasium filled to capacity with sweaty, smelly young men giving their all; coaches yelling in the corners, parents screaming from the stands, whistles blaring, buzzers buzzing and bleacher butt reigns supreme.

Yes. You know what I am talking about, don't you?

You've got it: High School Wrestling season.
My son is a wrestler.
I personally have been involved with High School wrestling for nearly 26 years, as my younger brothers were wrestlers in school, and now coach wrestling.
My sons both were wrestlers, and both began when they were about four years old.
I have spent a very large part of my life in wrestling rooms.
I love it. Every year I am excited for the start of the season. Every year I am sick to death of it by the end of the season.
I tend to adopt the guys on the team whose parents can't be bothered to attend meets. W.H. and I score matches, run the time clock, work the head table, run concessions, roll mats, clean up blood, stock the coaches hospitality room and feed the team.
In other words, we are involved.
I can't understand parents who don't get involved... why have kids if you are not going to be involved?
Anyway... for right now, I am excited for the start of the season. I can't wait for the whistle to blow on D's first match of the season. I think he is going to do really well this year.
I just pray for the safety of all our wrestlers... especially mine.