Sign up for our free newsletter:

wrestling giants When my son hit the mat, my heart hit the floor by Lynn Bowen Walker Photonica/O'Brien and Shridde

A wrestler stands on the mat in the hot, humid gym, nodding at his coach’s advice, adjusting the protective headgear that hides his ears from an opponent’s sweaty grasp. He’s next up, and he’s nervous. He wrestled a big guy last week and it hurt.

He is 5.

He’s not the only one feeling uneasy. As his mother, I, too, have my doubts. All those years spent as playground watchdog, protecting my child from bullies bold enough to take his sand toys, and now suddenly I’m supposed to let another kid straddle him and force him to turn over while I sit by and watch?

Wrestling is a tough sport for everyone.

So what are we doing here? Why would parents who cringe at violent cartoons, who want their sons to grow up to be models of love, joy, peace and patience, encourage them to go out on the mat with other kids and—well … fight?

It’s a hard question, one I’m pondering myself since both my boys are wrestlers.

At the pre-season physical, my sons’ doctor said wrestling earned high marks from sports medicine professionals as one of the best sports for children, offering strong cardiovascular conditioning and a low incidence of injury.

That isn’t why we signed them up, of course. We signed them up because their father was a wrestler.

Mark wrestled in high school, as did his two older brothers, and the three of them count it as one of their best school experiences. One of Mark’s high school friends started a kids’ wrestling league in our area; it seemed the perfect fit for our two rambunctious boys.

Never having seen "real" wrestling before, I had no idea what to expect. Mark assured me it was nothing like the WWF-type theatrics I’d occasionally glimpsed on TV. In my pre-season naiveté, I pictured the sport’s moves and counter-moves as analogous to a chess game played out in three dimensions. Wrestlers would use their problem-solving skills to get out of tight jams.

Another mother, also new to the sport, told me she hoped it would lengthen her son’s attention span.

All this was before my son got his first bloody nose, which happened a week after he’d given somebody else’s kid a bloody nose. This is the moment I realized that wrestling is perhaps not so similar to a chess game. This is when I began to wonder if a kid who asks to bring his G.I. Joe to practice is perhaps too young to learn moves like the "bulldog takedown" and the "gut wrench."

At my sons’ first official tournament, I noticed how few females were present, either as participants or as spectators. Most of the fans in the stands were men, startling when you consider the gaggle of moms at most swim meets or soccer matches. I wondered if wrestling was simply too hard for most mothers to watch. Perhaps we don’t possess the requisite level of testosterone to enjoy such undisguised aggression.

As the season progressed, I learned more about wrestling and became a bit more at ease. Children 5 to 8 years old compete for only 90 seconds, take a short break, then continue for 90 more. The idea is not to hurt the other guy but to outscore him. Wrestlers earn points for turning an opponent over. Points for "takedowns." Points for "throws." Basically, points for manhandling. Or at age 5, boyhandling.

At the youngest level, if a child shows the least sign of distress, the referee stops the match and gives him the option of continuing or not. The idea of a winner and loser is downplayed. At match’s end, both wrestlers get their arms lifted in the traditional sign of victory. Win or lose, they get ribbons after their first two matches, and a medal after the third.

Often the children are oblivious to who scored how much, which is not necessarily a bad thing.

"How did it go?" I asked one little guy who’d just been trounced.

"Well, I sure hope I wasn’t the green guy," he answered, "because the green guy didn’t get any points."

The idea is to send them all home feeling like winners. It seems to work.

At home we made felt banners from which to hang the competitive spoils. My sons worked hard for those ribbons, and want each one to receive the glory it deserves. They seem to think the exchange is worth it—manhandling for medals. They say wrestling is fun.

I’m glad, because I want it to be fun.

I also want them to learn from it. To learn that if you work hard you’ll get better. To learn to obey rules, to play fair, to be good losers as well as winners.

I hope, too, it’s giving them an appropriate outlet for the aggressiveness you’d expect to find in brothers born 15 1/2 months apart. It satisfies me greatly to break up their brawls with "Save it for the mat!" It seems an answer, somehow, to the constant rivalry problem that doesn’t really have a clear solution.

My sons often leave me bewildered—with their aggression, their disdain for crafts kits as birthday gifts, their love for shoot-em-up, ninja-style play. I wonder if in this arena, too, I’ll always look through a glass darkly, never quite understanding their attraction to wrestling, but there to cheer them on nonetheless. As the only woman in a house full of men, I’m beginning to see that some things are not their problem, but mine.

At my son’s last match, I escorted him, as I have all season, with my heart in my throat to await his next Goliath.

"You’re not allowed to hold his hand," my husband joked. "This is a wrestling tournament."

I squeezed his hand even tighter. "He’s still my little boy."

There are some things even a gut wrench can’t touch.

Lynn Bowen Walker is a freelance writer who confesses that she has spent years trying to teach her sons to love peaceable activities such as origami and cookie-making. She’s been remarkably unsuccessful.

Tell us what you think …   Is this the kind of article you'd like to see more of? Is there a topic you'd like us to cover? Please send your suggestions to parentingfeedback@christianitytoday.com

Copyright © 2000 by the author or Christianity Today International/Christian Parenting Today Magazine.
Click here for reprint information on Christian Parenting Today.
March/April 2000, Vol. 12, No. 4, Page 42

	We'd really like to know what you think about this article!
	Is this the kind of article you'd like to see more of? Is there a topic you'd like us to cover? Please send your response to

				Try Today's Christian Woman Free! Name Street Address City/State/Zip E-mail Address No credit card required. Please allow 4-6 weeks for delivery. Offer valid in U.S. only. If you decide you want to keep Today's Christian Woman coming, honor your invoice for just $17.95 and receive five more issues, a full year in all. If not, simply write "cancel" across the invoice and return it. The trial issue is yours to keep, regardless. Give Today's Christian Woman as a gift Order a gift subscription!

FREE MomSense Newsletter Subscribe to the MomSense Newsletter    RSS Feed   RSS Help