6 Minutes Wrestling with Life

Certifiably Insane

The distance between insanity and genius
Is measured only by success

December 5th, 2009

As I am driving home from Helen Hayes, somewhere near the George Washington Bridge, my mind shifts from Jess and starts to focus on Maverick, Travis and Cassidy.

The "Super 32" has come and gone and the boys did not participate in this year's tournament.

When it was time to leave for the tournament a few weeks ago, both Maverick and Travis said they did not want to go.

They felt it was more important for me to stay with my dad in the hospital; they knew his time was fast approaching.

"We can go next year, and the year after that, Dad."

"You will not be able to see grandpa ever again."

"We need to stay home, Dad."

And we did.

The high school wrestling season started three weeks ago.

I arrive back on Long Island just in time to pick up Maverick and Travis from wrestling practice.

Maverick approaches the car, the skin on his face is hugging his cheekbones very tightly, his pants are falling off of him, and he can barely talk because his mouth is so dry.

It dawns on me that certifications are tomorrow.

How no one has called Child Protective Services on me is amazing, I think to myself.

Maverick has literally not eaten in two weeks. His weight has dropped from 132 pounds to 112 pounds over that short period of time.

Just in the last four days since I have been gone, he has gotten noticeably skinnier.

Tomorrow the boys will provide a urine sample, get weighed and have a skin fold test to measure their percentage of body fat.

The urine sample determines whether or not a wrestler is hydrated, the skin fold test provides the numbers that determine whether a wrestler can "safely" lose any more weight.

I am looking at Maverick right now and he is not in any safe zone.

There is no way he is hydrated. And his percentage of body fat is at dangerously low levels.

I can tell that with my own eyes, I do not need an official reading from any caliper to convince me.

Travis is able to wrestle in the 96-pound weight class without having to lose any weight.

He looks normal.

The boys come home and do what every wrestler does before an event.

They go up to their rooms, crash in their beds and they curl up in a ball until the morning.

It is now morning and we are on our way to East Islip High School for the 2009-2010 Official High School Certifications.

My eyes prove me right.

Maverick has failed his hydration test miserably and his body fat is at 5%, which is insane.

There is an appeal process for the hydration test in three days.

It would mean Maverick would have to hold his weight by not eating or drinking for another three days, and somehow be hydrated.

"Insanity" is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.

If left up to his own decision, Maverick would continue to pursue getting certified to wrestle at 112 pounds.

I step in and without asking him; let him know that the pursuit is over.

It is time to go up a weight class.

After two minutes of convincing him, Maverick is now a 119 pounder.

I believe I made the right decision, even though he will have two State Champions in his weight class at 119 pounds; it is his overall health with which I am more concerned.

I look around at all the wrestlers who are excruciatingly thin and wonder to myself how this certification process actually stops them from cutting an insane amount of their body weight.

It does not.

At least both Maverick and Travis will be able to eat for the next three months.

The 2009-2010 Section XI High School Season has officially begun.