As an adventurous boy of about fourteen, my father took my brother and me to a “professional wrestling match” that featured what in those days were termed midgets, as well as larger, stronger men with whom I was very impressed.
I told myself I wanted to be a wrestler when I grew up. However, my size was very thin, anti-muscular, and wirey. Still, at the school I was attending, I chose to try out for the wrestling team.
I had no previous experience, so I had to put enormous effort into running and workouts. The coach was patient with me, was entertained by my don’t-give-up mentality, and kept me safe.
All this was taking place in those years when facial breakouts hit me like a plague. I did all that my step mother said was the key to a cure, but it only made my appearance look, as one huge bully said, “like you scrubbed your face with a wire brush.” My, how I wanted to be a bigger boy.
Family life wasn’t great, so I wasn’t able to gain the nutrients necessary to help strengthen me. Too often, I went without eating much at all. Nevertheless, I stuck it out with the wrestling team.
After the coach asked me to compete with the next smallest guy, I got tossed around like a feather. The other guys were packing their things, when the coach took me aside to explain why he thought it was best I quit the team. I was simply too small. He spoke with such kindness and compassion, there was no way I felt as bad as it could have been.
A month later, I joined the band, where I eventually learned to play the upright bass and sousaphone. School policy was that if a student wanted to play in the jazz band, he had to also play in the marching band, so I had to learn steps, show up for games, and practice.
I’ve been a moderate, even professional bassist, since the age of 19, can you believe it? And it all began with wrestling.
I told myself I wanted to be a wrestler when I grew up. However, my size was very thin, anti-muscular, and wirey. Still, at the school I was attending, I chose to try out for the wrestling team.
I had no previous experience, so I had to put enormous effort into running and workouts. The coach was patient with me, was entertained by my don’t-give-up mentality, and kept me safe.
All this was taking place in those years when facial breakouts hit me like a plague. I did all that my step mother said was the key to a cure, but it only made my appearance look, as one huge bully said, “like you scrubbed your face with a wire brush.” My, how I wanted to be a bigger boy.
Family life wasn’t great, so I wasn’t able to gain the nutrients necessary to help strengthen me. Too often, I went without eating much at all. Nevertheless, I stuck it out with the wrestling team.
After the coach asked me to compete with the next smallest guy, I got tossed around like a feather. The other guys were packing their things, when the coach took me aside to explain why he thought it was best I quit the team. I was simply too small. He spoke with such kindness and compassion, there was no way I felt as bad as it could have been.
A month later, I joined the band, where I eventually learned to play the upright bass and sousaphone. School policy was that if a student wanted to play in the jazz band, he had to also play in the marching band, so I had to learn steps, show up for games, and practice.
I’ve been a moderate, even professional bassist, since the age of 19, can you believe it? And it all began with wrestling.
