Save Olympic Wrestling

I started my day off today taking the morning train into New York City and learning that the International Olympic Committee had made the decision (or at least is beginning to make the decision) to cut wrestling, both freestyle and Greco-Roman, from the Summer Games effective 2020. If you follow me on social media, I tend to think of myself who does not easily fly off into rants of multiple tweets or ponderous Facebook entries, but this did the trick.

For all four years of my high school career, I was a member of my school's wrestling team. Initially my motivation to join was a combination of the fact that my cousins had all done it and I idolized them, and of course because I loved professional wrestling and even at 14 didn't completely grasp the vast differences.

Wrestling was one of the most difficult things I ever did. It was physically exhausting and mentally draining. We used to make fun of the track team because some days their whole practice was a three mile run and that was the warm-up we did before two to three hours of cardio and wrestling (at the time I was a puffed up high school jock--when I wasn't a sensitive actor or snarky writer--and didn't get that runners had to pace themselves at a specific routine or ruin their bodies for competition; I developed tremendous respect for runners, gymnasts and swimmers in particular as my overlooked brethren when it came to the most physically demanding sports). Beyond that, not knowing at the time what I know now about my propensity for anxiety attacks and the like, I'd pace like a madman and drive myself nuts before I stepped out on the mat each time.

Along the way, I snapped two ligaments in my left shoulder that had to be surgically repaired, sprained my left ankle to a degree that it still swells up when I run more than a mile today, and worked over my wrist joints to the point you can audibly hear them pop whenever I raise my hand.

I list those injuries not to draw attention to my toughness (maybe a little), but to point out how much wrestling meant to me that despite all that I never considered quitting.

Years before I was diagnosed with any sort of stress disorder, sought therapy or took medication, wrestling helped me develop the mental toughness I needed to get through high school. The guidance of my coaches, the support of my teammates and the pride I took in being able to survive and when I was lucky thrive in a form of competition more demanding than any other I knew of gave me the courage and confidence to overcome my own fears; if I could do this, I could do anything.

I started as a 110 pound freshman who lucked into a spot on the varsity squad to a team captain and league all-star (second team, but still) my senior year. I learned leadership, teamwork and determination from my years as a wrestler and have carried all those lessons through my adult life.

Admittedly I come to today's news from a somewhat uninformed place (not a shocker), but from what I can tell, the IOC's decision is rooted in the fact that there can only be 25 events at the Olympics and with the addition (I believe) of golf and rugby, two events needed to be cut. A combination of perceived poor visibility, failure to follow regulations and politics led to wrestling getting the chop (the first I don't buy, the second doesn't fly with me while boxing remains an event and the third has to do with keeping stuff like ping pong and cycling because China and western Europe like them and have more sway on the IOC, which is...yeah). I'm anticipating the gender equality argument, but women have been competing in freestyle wrestling on an Olympic level for years (all-female and mixed gender wrestling teams were on the rise when I was in high school and have only grown in popularity since).

I don't want to slag on anybody's else's passion, so I won't go down the "how they get rid of wrestling when they still have badminton and dressage" route; all I can do is argue the case for wrestling, and that's talking about what a positive role it played in my life and why I would hope the IOC would see the value in encouraging young people to get involved in an activity that strengthens them as an individual while also making them part of a team like few others can.

Like track, swimming or gymnastics, wrestling doesn't have a professional league like an NBA or PGA, so the Olympics is what drive high school and college wrestlers to keep going. To deprive the sport of that dream is to cut it off at the knees. This is putting aside the great drama wrestling has provided with stories like Kurt Angle's gold medal victory in 1996 wrestling with a broken neck.

My question would be why there needs to be a ceiling of 25 for events. Is it a matter of TV time? Every station can choose what they air, can't they (my wife made this point)? If its just service to a draconian set of rules, it's time those rules be overturned.

If you wrestled, if you know somebody who wrestled, if you're a fan or if you just value the things wrestling can teach, I urge you to make your voice heard. Look into petitions. Use the #SaveOlympicWrestling hash tag on Twitter. Learn about the issue and see how you can help. The IOC is going to review this issue this summer; I hope their minds can be changed.

Thanks for reading.

Paragraph Movie Reviews: Moneyball

If you don't have plans to see this movie, you can check the spoilers here and then come back.

I wanted this movie to be better. It was good, make no mistake, but I thought it could have been great. Brad Pitt is commanding as Billy Beane and turns in what will likely and should be an award-garnering performance full of intensity, charisma and depth. I wasn't so much sold on Jonah Hill and that hurt the film a great deal for me. I give Hill credit for trying to rein in his usual comedic delivery, but I felt like even toned down most of his line readings came off unintentionally awkward and funny, which took me out of the moment more than once; Peter Brand is not supposed to be the comic relief here, he's supposed to be a key part of the story's nucleus, and I was unable to take him seriously. The story was engaging and the script was good, but the pacing jumped around. I liked the juxtaposition of Beane's younger years with his current struggles, but they failed to keep a consistency of how they balanced the two, giving the former a lot of real estate in the first half of the movie and then dropping it suddenly about halfway in only to pull back to it at very random times. There were scenes that were absolutely brilliant--any time Beane is orchestrating trades or dealing with his scouts is, pardon the pun, money--but the glue between them was shaky. The transitions between acts didn't hold up for me; the acts themselves taken alone were very good, but it felt like they were missing a lot of build and just jumping from one key point to the next. The climax to the film was pretty unforgivably over-dramatized; I understand and appreciate the need for theatrics in sports movies (I love Rocky), but the way they frame Beane supposedly jinxing the A's winning their 20th straight was hokey to the max. Chris Pratt was surprisingly good in the sense that he swapped out just enough of his comedic tendencies in a way I wish Hill could have. Philip Seymour Hoffman is a non-factor. I'll still rank this movie highly and recommend it based off things like Pitt's terrific performance, the tight script, solid directing and that the good scenes are really, really good, but it's missing too much in the connective tissue to achieve its full potential as an all-time classic.

Play Ball (with super heroes)!

Baseball season has arrived! Normally this would be where I make some sort of mocking comment directed toward John Cerilli and his beloved New York Mets, but given the 0-3 start my Boston Red Sox are off too, I think I’ll keep quiet for the time being (if there’s one thing I remember from 2004, though, it’s that starting off 0-3 isn’t ever the end).

Though I absolutely hated playing baseball when I was a kid both because the kids pitching could never throw strikes and I ended up sitting in the outfield for literally hours every night and was also terrified of getting hit by those same wild pitches after watching a teammate get a black eye from one, I came around on the sport later in life, mostly in college and immediately after. I find it a far better spectator sport that you can have on in the background at home while you do other stuff or have a great experience watching at the ballpark.

For the most part, though, the two things that most got me into baseball were watching with my dad during the summer of 2004 after I graduated and before I started and Wizard and then being in a fantasy league with my buddies. Unfortunately, my college friends lost interest pretty quick, and while I was in a league with some high school pals right up through last season, they’re all investment bankers and kept upping the entry fee, so I had to bow out and save my wallet (never mind that we only started paying dues the year after I won…but I’m not bitter).

So to fill that fantasy baseball void in my life this year, I’ve decided to draft my seven-person dream roster of super heroes who I’d send out on the diamond if the league didn’t check for performance enhancers and super soldier serum.

BATMAN
If you’re going by win-loss record, you need to go with Batman, who regardless of how tough or wily the opposition is always finds a way to claim victory. This is a dude who beat a pack of White Martians with a lighter and some luck—imagine what he could do against the Cubs! My one concern would be going against whoever drafted Bane, but I’ve got to put my faith in the system and imagine that all that if the league is testing for HGH, they’re not just going to let Venom slide.

THE HULK
On the other hand, you can’t ban The Hulk from competing since he didn’t choose to be caught in that Gamma Bomb, he’s just an unfortunate accident victim who has overcome his unfortunate circumstances to flourish as a rampaging man-monster. It would be a challenge finding Hulk a uniform that isn’t going to mysteriously transform into torn purple pants, but that’s an obstacle I’d be willing to overcome in order to gain the home runs he brings to the team. What’s a home run when it comes to super heroes? I’m not entirely sure, but if you can hold up a friggin’ mountain during Secret Wars, surely you can notch a few!

DONNA TROY
There are few positions more important to a good fantasy baseball team than the utility infielder. You need to have that player who can float from first to second to shortstop to third and fill in for whoever gets injured or has a day off. Who in comics has more versatility than Donna Troy? Sure she has an incredibly convoluted history, but the advantage is that just about wherever you plug her in, it kinda sorta makes sense. Need a Teen Titan? Donna! Looking for a Darkstar? Donna! Diana’s too busy to be Wonder Woman for a few issues? Donna! Your shortstop pulled their hamstring? Donna Troy!

COLOSSUS
First off, he’s been throwing Wolverine at bad guys in a move explicitly called the Fastball Special for decades, so you know he’s got a great arm and can be your ace pitched. Second, he’s got the power to transition over be the Designated Hitter as well, so you’re aces for interleague play if need be. But most importantly, Colossus will be the king of the RBI given how used he is to bailing his X-Men buddies out of jams and holding off that collapsing door or attacking army of goons so they can slide in for the win.

THE SPECTRE
I’d pick The Spectre for an often overlooked key category: Saves. In the DC Universe, when a big event is going badly for the good guys, they consistently count on The Spectre to come out of the bullpen and turn things around. The guy arm-wrestled The Anti-Monitor at the dawn of time during Crisis On Infinite Earths, threw Parallax in chains at a crucial point in Zero Hour and more often than not plays cavalry after the starting team goes down. While Crispus Allen is still getting the hang of the gig, he’s got the work ethic to be an all-time great.

SPAWN
He’s spent nearly 20 years around Todd McFarlane, he’s got to have picked up a thing or two from Mark McGwire’s balls.

GAMBIT
Steals.