In eighth grade I was approaching challenges that strengthened my confidence. I was involved in many sports that required focus and determination. By being a successful athlete and leader I was chosen to be team captain for all the sports I dedicated my time to. I started my competitive year with football, wrestling season was next, and then I finished off with track. Each sport that I was involved in taught me a little more about myself, and how to motivate others to see the same goal I strived for. The sport that captured my heart and taught me the most was wrestling. As an eighth grader the sport was challenging and yet it gave me an uplifting feeling that made me feel indestructible. This I accomplished a goal of becoming an undefeated wrestler. Throughout my house I put the phrase, “I have a dream and I am going to do it. “ This meant that I could not let up on my dream I had to attempt a step towards my goal every day. When my eighth grade season of wrestling began, my daily routine of becoming a champion also began. My dad and I began this season with a mentality of keeping a plan; he would remind me, “If we fail to plan we plan to fail.” After practice we would go on a run and go over positive thinking. My dad made sure I was ready for my upcoming matches by making the gym our home. At the gym we would cut any weight that was needed to make weight the next day, but even more important then making weight, I was able to wind down at the gym and praise God for the success I had made so far. It became a ritual to visit the gym on Sunday before my match on Monday. I was able to end the week with a positive mind and confidence for the next day.
Becoming a high school wrestler was a difficult transition to get used to. It was as if I never wrestled before. My world of wrestling was altered, I was confused and I sometimes felt out of place because I was not attune with their routine. I was learning new techniques to a new style. Fortunately I was like a sponge that year and absorbed as much information as I could. I was a varsity wrestler my freshmen year until Chris Shrives, the state champ that year wrestled me off to take my spot. A wrestle off is done to have the best person in that varsity weight class. To get the varsity spot you challenge your teammate who is currently holding the spot you want. Who ever wins gets that spot. Even though I was unaware of the high school wrestling routine I didn’t let it show. I just gave it all I got to be the best that I could be.
The next year was even harder then my first year of being a high school wrestler. I was now embracing the new style in high school but my dad was not was annoyed by the style that I was learning. My dad and I were constantly fighting about how my style has changed. He was now a JV coach for Flowing Wells during my sophomore year and at every practice we would bang heads. Each day coming into the wrestling room I was hoping so hard that my dad wouldn’t show, but he always managed to make an appearance. Having him in the room insured that my practices were going to be ten times harder then everyone else’s. I would have to go 100% the entire practice, and if I didn’t I was yelled at by good old coach Dad. When I was drilling moves with my partner, making each movement fluent and embedded in my mind, my dad would be hovering right over us. He would not be silent at all as my coaches would be while I was drilling. My civilized coaches would patiently wait until I finished the move then would casually show me what I was doing wrong. My dad was totally opposite he would holler at the top of his lungs until his voice became sirens in my head. He would be shouting the entire time that drilling was being held saying every detail of the move, like I couldn’t remember them by myself. The lengthy period of my dad yelling was not over when practice was. I still had to ride home with him, on a journey home that seemed longer than it should have been. On our rides home the conversation would start as a motivational speech on lighting my inner fire and becoming the aggressor in my matches, into my dad yelling at me again on how I need to change my game plan. I have no idea how the topic would change so fast. I just sat there because with my dad, I couldn’t be right. It was intense to have my dad in the wrestling room that year, but it did help me become a more mature person and a better captain as well. Having my dad in the room got me ready for even harder practices I was about to be apart of during the summer.
After high school season ended a new season began. Freestyle and Greco-Roman were the two styles of wrestling that became my life for the rest of the 2009-wrestling season. Wrestlers who wanted to improve their wrestling during the high school season would continue training during the summer. The training was very beneficial. It gave techniques from different styles that would fill the gaps that were in their style wrestling in school. Freestyle and Greco-Roman are international styles of wrestling the styles that are done in the Olympics. My favorite of the two is Greco-Roman and that was the style I wanted to do well that summer. When summer finally came around, my dad, my wrestling coach, and I discussed a plan for Nationals in Fargo, North Dakota. Our plan was for me to place in the top 5 at 98 pounds for the Greco-Roman style. In our discussion we narrowed it down to week-by-week plan on how I would eat, what I would practice, and how I would stay positive. This seemed impossible when I first heard the plan, but it was achieved, I cut 20 pounds and was ready to battle.
The Fargo Dome where Nationals is held was a bizarre place. While sitting in the stands, it’s the loudest place one could be at but while on the mat wrestling all I could hear was my coach on the side screaming helpful moves to me. The most difficult match I wrestled at the tournament was the first one. I was light headed from all the weight I lost but still focused. Winning the first match is very important. Not winning means more matches because you move into the cancellation matches. I won my first match, avoiding the pickle of losing. Each match was a new slate, and I had the tools to take it to my next opponent. My smooth transitions and precision of my moves got me to the match where I was going for fifth place in the Greco-Roman style. Warming up for this match was unreal. I was certain that I would win but I was still bloated with butterflies. As I approached the match, the spotlight revealed to the rest of my team that I was about to wrestle. As I shook my opponents hand I could hear my team chanting “Arizona.” The matches went by best 2 out of 3 periods, so whoever won two periods won the match. The first period did not go in my favor but that did not disturb my focus, I knew I was in control of the match. The second period I dominated. I scored and he didn’t which meant we were now tied who ever won the next period won the match. The last period was a defensive period, no one scored. Not until the end I managed to position myself for a throw. Only enough time for this last move and I did exactly how my coach and I practiced. I won making my teammates go hysterical in the stands. I completed the impossible and the sacrifice was worth it to have this moment that I will cherish forever.