Talking Sports: There and getting there

The NSAA sure knows how to throw a party. At least it may have seemed like a party to the thousands who were in attendance during the three-day 2014 NSAA State Wrestling Championships.

This particular event was held at the CenturyLink Center in Omaha. Though capacity can fluctuate depending on the event, CenturyLink lists its capacity as 18,300. It’s a big place.

When the evening sessions were underway, with all four classes wrestling at the same time, it was hard to spot an open seat from the floor. From the cheap seats, the view is even more spectacular.

Well below the top row of seats is a rectangular, multicolored floor decked with 10 wrestling mats and tiny little figures moving about. From here it’s hard to tell just who was experiencing great joy and who just had their heart ripped out. But you knew it was there. It was everywhere.

The public address announcer had to be the busiest man to ever hold such an occupation. His calls were a constant presence as he informed audience and grapplers alike.

He called the warriors to their place. He let you know what school they represented and the weight class at which they battled. An equal stream of calls went out for those who were on deck.

Despite the constant flow of information, it was easy to follow as his was an authoritative voice you felt obliged to heed. Even if one could turn a deaf ear to the call of the PA, a giant scoreboard was dead center of the action. It filled you in on whatever you wanted to know.

This is the environment that 896 Nebraska high school wrestlers faced. Many thousands of others had wished for the experience but were left with broken hearts at district tournaments, played out all over the state the previous week.

Only one from our area earned the right to view this impressive sight. Michael Muggli of Sidney High School finished runnerup at the district tournament at Cozad. As this was the junior’s third time at the rodeo, he was likely less struck with awe than this rookie.

Muggli is a pre-match dancer. As he stands waiting for his next match his feet churn up and down like the hands of a boxer who battles the wind before a bout. Coach John Ganser would be nearby too. He doesn’t show any nerves, but you know they’re there.

Ganser would stare off into space at times - perhaps wondering if all the bases had been covered. Most likely though he’s just wanting the best for his Raider. He thinks a lot of Muggli. You can tell that. He respects him for all the hard work he’s put in and the leadership he’s shown throughout the year.

Right before a match, though, the two don’t talk much. No doubt the pair have had many conversations over the past three years.

I guess they figured the moments just before a bout wasn’t the time for another. Muggli’s a veteran who knows what has to be done.

But the wrestlers weren’t all dancers. There were other pre-match routines. Some stood stone faced beforehand - gazing nowhere in particular. Others rambled away with their coaches - perhaps to finalize last-minute strategy. Still others paced back-and-forth like expectant fathers.

After the matches there was often plenty of emotion. As ABC’s Wide World of Sports used to put it so aptly, “The thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” There were many tears, many faces etched in pain. The victors raised hands in euphoria, others pointed to loved ones in the crowd. Still others, like Muggli, would just shake his opponents hand and move on. And there were hugs. Hugs were everywhere. Some were hugs to console others jubilant celebrations of joy.

One young man sat outside for hours with his face in his hands and a hoody pulled tight over his head, lest we observe the sharp pain etched into his expression. It was cold and snowing heavily as he sat there, but this one couldn’t seem to move on from what might have been. Not yet anyway.

But he’s young, talented and hard working or he wouldn’t have been there in the first place. He’ll get over it.

I saw another who sprinted from the arena as fast as he could after a loss - perhaps for a brief escape. And tears - they were everywhere. Buckets and buckets of tears. Then there were the stoics. Stone faced on the outside but who knows what thoughts churned away inside.

And how could you blame them?

You see, wrestling is an extraordinaryly difficult sport. It’s one-on-one. There are supporters, but no teammates once the whistle blows. It’s just you and you alone and only the toughest, best conditioned athletes can take it. For three periods or more - if you can last that long - it demands every ounce of your strength in a constant battle with an opponent who wants it just as badly as you do.

Though bouts last only a matter of minutes the process to prepare takes months and years. How many times in that period could one barely stand up from the exhaustion? How many times did they see their own blood drain from their noses onto the floor? How many times did they feel completely alone in defeat? At least as many as they rose up to try all over again.

Sure the NSAA knows how to throw a party, but it had lots of help. Well done you 896. I don’t know how many collective centuries went into your preparation, but it sure made for a heck of a show.