Back in the early ’80s, there was a movie called ‘My Dinner with Andre,’ which I was forced to watch by someone I was trying to impress to prove I had some degree of sophistication. Given my Neanderthal tendencies, I have forgotten the movie.
This past weekend I had dinner with my former coach, Andy Matter. But unlike the 1981 film, ‘My Dinner with Andy’ will be a long-lasting memory.
The occasion was the wedding of one of Jerry Villeco’s sons. Jerry was the captain of the wrestling team my first year, and we have been close friends since college. The only other members of the Penn State wrestling community were Andy, his wife Becky, my family and me. We were all seated at the same table.
I put my whole family between Andy and myself. I would have talked his ear off if I had sat next to him, and I wanted him to have an enjoyable evening.
My daughter Jessie has always wanted to meet Andy, so she sat next to him. At ‘Andy Matter Day’ at Penn State, she collected six little statues of him and placed them in nearly every room in the house (even the hamster’s cage). She has told me since that dinner that she has now met every great wrestler I know.
Next to Jessie was my wife Jess, who spent some time discussing coaching philosophies with Andy. She coaches the toughest event in gymnastics – the beam, which, like wrestling, requires hard work for the self-confidence athletes need to dominate.
Athletes sometimes need to see success as they get closer to competing, and Jess told Andy she really pumps the girls up in front of competition. Andy’s response was an absolute shock.
I frequently tell the current Penn State wrestling coaches that Andy would never let anyone take him down in the room. But he told my wife he would sometimes let guys take him down to build their confidence before regionals or nationals.
I couldn’t believe it. ‘Andy,’ I said, ‘you never let anyone take you down.
He looked at me and said, ‘No, I didn’t let you take me down. You weren’t starting at the end of the year.’
For more than 30 years after my senior season, I never knew that about him.
It was interesting to hear two of the best coaches I’ve ever seen talk about bringing about bringing their athletes to the top of the highly individualistic and pressure-oriented sports. The students appreciate them too, as evidenced by all of the wrestling and gymnastics weddings they (and I) have been invited to. (We had already been to a gymnastics wedding earlier this summer.)
Next to my wife was my son Garrett, who also spent some time with Andy, talking about golf. Both are golfers, and Garrett is already has a handicap of 12. It’s not wrestling, but golf is a sport that involves accountability on an individual level, so I’m happy to see him in it.
I sat next to Garrett, several feet away from Andy, but I still had a chance to speak to my former coach. And we talked about everything, from his time with the team to other current and former players.
I discovered that he is very impressed with Quinton Wright and also likes David Taylor (both long, strong wrestlers like him). He also revealed to me that before every match, he would say the Lord’s Prayer, followed by ‘Lord, I’m ready. Now let me show it.’
We also talked about the Nittany Lion Wrestling Club, which helps wrestling alumni train. Andy looked away slightly then. He had no wrestling club to support him after his college career, which was unfortunate because he remained a great wrestler. In a previous column I wrote about how he once dismantled an Olympic medalist and how Coach Bill Koll said he could have gone for gold.
‘You know, Joe…’ he said.
I cut him off. ‘Andy, I was there.’
‘Well, you know I had a family, and I don’t have any regrets, but today it’s different in that you could do it,’ he said.
It made me think of my dad – a great meteorologist who gave up his chosen career for his family. There are days when I feel sorry for him, and there I was, feeling bad for Andy. Both men put family first. In those days, you had no choice. They are two of the strongest men I have ever met; yet sometimes I feel bad for them.
Later, Andy spoke of the recruiting class from my senior year – perhaps one of the most talented classes we have ever had. One guy from that class, Rich McIntyre, had the best low single-leg takedown I had ever seen at that time. I hadn’t seen ‘The Black Sheep’ in 32 years, since the days when he would be in bible study or at a football game in a black sarape and dark sombrero, like a bandito.
But I was at a Penn State wrestling camp this past weekend when a man approached me, shook my hand and said, ‘Joe, it’s me: The Black Sheep. Rich McIntyre.’ I was floored. More than 30 years after we parted way, our ties still bind us. He is an engineer and the coach of Freedom High School’s wrestling team.
In spite of my success in my chosen field, I find my best friends today are wrestlers, brought together by a common interest.
There, at that camp, was a successful man who never stopped caring about wrestling. And at the wedding table was Andy Matter, who both Mac and I greatly respected.
It’s why I’ll never forget that ‘Dinner with Andy.’
