
One of my most vivid memories of life as a young lad, was a wrestling tournament when I was 12-ish. I was not a gifted wrestler, and I knew it, as did everyone with a passing interest in the sport. I'd made it through several rounds of tournaments, mostly by virtue of being in a less populous weight class and being not quite last. By the time I got to sectionals -- the last tournament before state -- It was just me and two other guys, both of whom looked to be about 45. They were from neighboring farm towns (where they presumably did the work of a whole team of oxen themselves …