Following my failure at the state tournament, I had serious doubts about wrestling on the next level. While in high school, the only thing important to me was winning a state title, and when that was no longer possible, I did not really care about being a national champion on the collegiate level. That may sound crazy, yet it was 100 percent true at the time.
After careful consideration between myself and my family, I decided to wrestle. It felt good to be wanted at a college. I always enjoyed it when coaches called to check in on me. Plus, wrestling provided me with built-in friends at the college of my choice.
The downside to recruitment is when an athlete is highly desirable. Having a different coach call your house every night can be tedious. Then again, if you do want to compete in college, it is always better to get too many than too few calls.
I was actively recruited by a few different colleges during my junior and senior years, including two Division I schools -- Wagner College in New York and Franklin and Marshall College in Pennsylvania.
I ruled Wagner out first because it did not feel like a good fit. Franklin and Marshall was then dismissed because honestly, after my visit, I thought the campus life was lacking. I knew not to make my college decision solely on one factor, whether social, academic, or athletics. College should be a great place to get a quality education, do what you love, and have fun. All three of those factors affected my decision on which college or university to attend.
The fact that Wagner and Franklin & Marshall competed in Division I played into my decision. Being a Division I athlete is practically a full-time job. Given my initial doubts about continuing athletics in college, I did not think it would have been a good fit for someone in my mental state. It would have taken a bigger commitment than I was willing to give at the time.
College coaches typically look at a wrestler’s junior season results when deciding which students to recruit. My junior year of high school was a good one. I finished in the top twenty-four in the state of New Jersey; that was not a result that would attract interest from many Division I programs. There are very few Division II wrestling programs within driving distance of New Jersey, and none of them ever contacted me. Consequently, I was most sought after by Division III schools and participated in overnight visits at Muhlenberg College and Rhode Island College (RIC).
Going to as many recruit nights as possible is a good strategy. They are entertaining and give athletes a chance to get to know the people they will be spending massive amounts of time with over the next four or five years.
Many coaches had come to the 2003 New Jersey state championships, but only Coach Jones from RIC had made a lasting impression on me. He went out of his way to find me and made me feel like the most important person he had come to see. Throughout my senior year, Coach Jones would always call to check in and was a genuinely nice guy.
Rhode Island’s recruit night was something different. I went up to see the school with my mom and Aunt Lorraine. We went out to eat on Federal Hill, a fantastic Italian section of Providence. Coach Jones set me up with the team’s heavyweight wrestler, BJ Atkinson (@atkinsonbj), and he and Eddy German had the rest of the night planned out for me.
RIC seemed small enough to make a name for myself at around 10,000 students. RIC is located in the heart of Providence, with eight other colleges in the area. Another plus was that my former teammate, Montes, attended school nearby. In the end, I had to make a decision, and my family and I felt RIC was the best fit for me.
I wrote the following journal pages in the preseason of wrestling, my first year at RIC. It reveals how a student feels about their high school wrestling career can vastly affect their early college wrestling experience. I seem almost irrational in this excerpt, and I guess I was then.
11/7/03
Looking back on my career as a Nutley High School wrestler, I realize that all I think about are the bad times. I remember every loss and consider March 15, 2003, the worst day of my life (The day I lost in the state quarterfinals). But now that I’m wrestling in college, I recognize how motivated I really was and how hard I actually did work last year and the years before in my drive to win that state title. It hurts all the time that I didn’t win, and I can’t ever imagine it going away. I know it’s not a big deal to my family or friends, but it is to me because I know I did everything I could have to call myself a state champ. Especially last year, I was unbreakable, all the hours running, jumping rope, in the basement shadow drilling, going to The Edge, working with Gibbons/Florian, and at NYAC. I thought it was going to pay off; I kept telling myself, when it hurt so much I couldn’t even move, that when I won, it would be the most blissful thing ever, and it would all be worth it. And that moment never came.
It shouldn’t have been that important to me, but I made it my life.
Now I see that I wanted the perfect season so bad it paralyzed me. I dreamt about winning every day in school and wrote it on all my notebooks. I thought about what everyone was going to say to me after I won.
If I had gone to states and got destroyed, I could have accepted that. But I didn’t lose because anyone was better than me or worked harder. I lost the match in my mind.
I did get good out of wrestling. It made me who or what I am. I wonder how I would have turned out without wrestling. I really don’t know. Even though wrestling caused probably more pain than any other thing in my life up to this point, I still am happy I did it. I learned extreme self-discipline and how hard work does pay off—maybe not always in wins, but in other ways. Perhaps the greatest lesson I learned from wrestling is: No matter how hard you work or how bad you want something, sometimes you just don’t get it.
I didn’t try to wrestle back to take third because, to me, it was first or nothing. It’s not anyone’s fault but my own; I blew it, and I will have to live with it. I don’t care anymore. Wrestling at college was a bad idea; I am not motivated. I am not getting any better, and I am not willing to work hard anymore, what should I work for, to take 8th in the state? Screw that.
It’s either all the way or nothing, and since right now I don’t want to go all the way, it has to be nothing. I can’t half-ass this sport. It is 1:35 am, and I have to be up in five hours for practice. What an idiot I am, I should not be here. Johnny Mariano put it best when he told me that I’m just a bitter kid ever since states but that I’m still a champ in his book…. I just wish I was one in mine.
11/8/03
So here is the good I got from this sport, besides the rewards of dedication: Wrestling seriously defined me as a person in a positive way. Without it, I don’t think I would have been anywhere near the person I am now, even though right now, I feel like a worthless, unmotivated piece of garbage. I think this says it all: Everything I learned in life, everything I know, be it good or bad, I learned and know because of wrestling.
The biggest “good” were the friendships and people I met along the way. I know people from all over the state, and that is a great feeling. Another good is the experience of being “out there” by myself, which is something special. I do have respect for everyone who wrestles; it takes heart.
Anyway, winning a match makes me feel superior in some way, and I know I’ll miss that. I get respect just because I’m good at wrestling. People treat me differently because of it, and without that, next year, I’ll just be any other kid. Whatever.
What You Can Take Away from Chapter 3:
Only wrestle if you want to.
If you fail to attain an important goal, try to limit the destructiveness by writing about it or talking to someone you trust.