Why We Should ‘Wrestle’— Not ‘Fight’— with Our Challenges

March Matness has come and gone.

That’s right, it seems like it was just yesterday the season started. And now it’s over. It culminated this past weekend when the NCAA Division I Wrestling Championships were held in St. Louis, Missouri and 10 individual national champions and one team national champion were crowned

For those uninitiated in the ways of collegiate wrestling, here’s a short primer on the sport.

There are 77 colleges and universities that have DI wrestling teams, with approximately 2,400 wrestlers on those teams. These wrestlers compete in 10 weight classes, from 125 pounds up to a maximum of 285 pounds.

At the end of the wrestling season conference championships are held, and soon after a total of 330 wrestlers – 33 in each weight class – are chosen to compete at the NCAA Division I Wrestling Championships. They are chosen based mostly on the result of their performance at their respective conference championships. Then there are always a few spots reserved for “at-large” selections based on specific criteria set by the NCAA Division I Wrestling Committee. 

In what has to be one of the most egalitarian sports in college, 63 out of those 77 schools had at least one wrestler compete in the NCAA Championships this year. That is a testament to the distribution of talent in the sport – and also to the limit of only 9.9 scholarships allowed per team. Another testament to the sport was that these hundreds of wrestlers, their teammates, coaches, trainers, support staff, event officials, organizers, broadcasters, etc. all gathered for three days of wrestling – probably the closest contact sport in existence – and not a single positive COVID test resulted. That is a wonderful example of what’s possible in collegiate sports.

However, because of the continuing pandemic, only a limited number of people were allowed inside the venue to watch in-person, which meant that all around the wrestling-rich state of Pennsylvania, televisions sets, computers, and mobile phones and devices were tuned to more than 18 hours of championship wrestling coverage, culminating in the individual national championship matches in primetime on Saturday night.

And what a primetime show it was! Ten individual champions were crowned on Saturday night – and four of them were Penn State wrestlers. On the biggest stage at the biggest event on the biggest night of wrestling, Penn State had more wrestlers competing than any other school, and each won a national title. No other school won more than one individual national title.

Now, not to rain on the parade, but as I mentioned there is also a team component to the national championships, and although Penn State captured eight of the previous nine team championships awarded, the Nittany Lions did not win the team championship this year. They came in second. But, as I said, in primetime on Saturday it was clear who owned the mat that night. 

The reason I bring up wrestling – besides the opportunity to tell you what a wonderful job the Penn State wrestlers did, what amazing athletes and respectful competitors they are, and to thank them for modeling good sportsmanship – is to talk about wrestling in a more global context.

Wrestling is a great metaphor for our lives. As humans we have challenges, internally and externally.

Internally, we struggle with ourselves over many facets of our lives. Mundane things such as what to eat, what to wear, where to go and who to spend time with. Things with larger meaning such as what job to take, who to vote for, what car to buy, and where to live. Things with great meaning such as who (if anyone) to spend our lives with, how to raise our children, what medical procedures to undergo and how to deal with the inevitability of death.

Externally, we struggle with our family, friends, neighbors, coworkers and many other people we come in contact with on a daily basis. Some of these struggles are very minor, and others have life-changing consequences. Some struggles are conducted verbally, some in writing and some (hopefully very few) through a physical manifestation of some sort. 

The way we describe these struggles is by using the word “fight.” We fight with ourselves and others, and by doing so become fighters. The word conjures up an image of strength, and, unfortunately, also violence.

Wrestling on the other hand is a word that carries a different voice. Recognized as the world’s oldest competitive sport, wrestling has been around for millennia. As practiced in the ancient Olympic Games in Greece, it is speculated that the vast majority of people at that time passed through wrestling schools in their lives, making wrestling the ancient equivalent of modern-day football.

Wrestling has rules. Fighting usually doesn’t. Wrestling conjures images of respectful competitors, fighting of no-holds-barred mayhem. Wrestling is an individual activity, fighting mostly a group endeavor. And yet we easily fall into using the word “fight” to describe our actions regarding challenges.

We ought to spend more of our lives thinking about wrestling with people and things, not fighting them. We ought to rid our vocabularies of the word fight except in the most extreme of circumstances. I’ll share a small bit of Stephen Jenkinson’s book, “Die Wise: A Manifesto for Sanity and Soul,” that discusses wrestling and its difference from fighting:

“Wrestle doesn’t mean fight. It seems adversarial – we’ve all felt it, probably – when life doesn’t look like what we have in mind.

“Wrestling is a different thing. Wrestling has choreography… Wrestling has an intimacy to it that fighting will never attain… wrestling brings you very close to your partner. Wrestling isn’t what happens to you. It is what you do. And you will not be alone in it.

“Wrestling is articulation… Living your way of life wrestles the way life has of being itself: that is how meaning is made.”

It’s my belief that if we started inserting the word wrestle anytime we are tempted to use the word fight, we would make some changes in our lives in the way we approach the never-ending challenges we deal with as humans. 

So, congratulations again to the Penn State wrestling team, their four individual national champions, and here’s to the rest of us spending more of our lives emulating them. Wrestling with the challenges in our lives instead of fighting them.