The Race

I try to keep the wrestling pictures to a minimum because if you've seen one wrestling match you've seen them all right?

But - this weekend was different. The boys attended the West Coast Nationals Tournament at ASU. It is good for them because usually they wrestle against the same boys at every tournament. National tournaments give them an opportunity to wrestle against kids from other states. 

They did pretty well. Thomas placed 3rd and Nathan placed 4th. Because of their placement they earned All-American status in this tournament circuit. I had it explained to me that it is different from being a National All-American in that this is not THE national tournament....it is A national tournament.

Make sense?

Ya, I don't get it either.

But - it was fun to watch them wrestle. 

Thomas won 2 and lost 2. 

Nathan had a little bit of a rough start. He lost his first three matches. He was upset to say the least and said he was done. But after a few pep talks and some water & food - he decided that he wasn't going to give up and that he would keep going hard. He ended up winning his last two matches to place 4th. 

I had to pull out the big guns and read him a poem that one of my coaches always read to us. But - he did it. I love the life lessons that sports teach my children. 

I am proud of them for always getting up no matter how many times they fall.

Oh and by the way, here's that poem if you or someone you know needs some motivation.

The Race

Tension, slight but obvious filled the air,

as one by one the challengers said a silent prayer.

It wasn't to be serious and there was to be no prize,

but a feeling of desire shone through one small boy's eyes.

The starting line grew crowded with those who felt they'd win,

and each opponent was at the line just waiting to begin.

And that small boy with the fiery eyes and stern unwavering face,

was there for the same reason, he knew he'd win the race.

And as he found his place in line and listened to the crowd,

he heard the distant calling of his father's voice out loud.

"Do it son! Run your best and no matter what they see,

if you know you've tried your hardest, then you're number one to me."

And then the boy looked to the sky as if to see the sun,

but clouds had gathered up above and a gentle rain begun.

Then suddenly a silence fell and the crowd focused in,

and runners bent to running starts still waiting to begin.

The gun was raised into the air with runners on their mark,

and silence shattered by the shot like lightning in the dark.

Each runner burst onto the track and each was on their way,

to victory and being known as the hero for a day.

Each heard cheers yelled from the stands and each was doing their best,

but the boy who ran with the fiery eyes was a step ahead of the rest.

Yet as he glanced into the stands and saw his dad's proud face, 

he slipped upon the moist grass and fell - into last place.

Suddenly his surge of joy had turned into moist eye,

but just as his hands hit the ground, he heard a distant cry.

"Get up, get up and run my boy for you can never lose,

unless you stop and quit right now - it's up to you to choose."

So valiantly with courage strong he jumped up to his feet,

and found himself not far behind, still able to compete.

He ran with all the strength he had and then a little more,

to show the crowd he had a chance - as he had before.

Each stride he took grew longer as he caught up to the pack,

but in his haste he tripped again - and landed on his back.

By now the crowd was jeering at the boy who couldn't run,

but one proud father raised his voice and shouted to his son.

"It doesn't really matter who comes in first or last,

success comes with persistence for those who aren't as fast.

So don't give up and never quit until the task is done,

for winning comes to those who try not just to those who've won."

So one more time, with shattered hopes of being in the lead,

the little boy pulled himself up and tried to regain speed.

By now the winner and those behind, were finishing the race,

and a roar went up from the small crowd for the girl who took first place.

And as each runner crossed the line, each heard a separate cheer,

for each had finished up the race with hopes to win sincere.

But as the broken tape was left to gather on the ground,

a silence hit the screaming crowd and no one made a sound.

Each eye had shifted to the boy who limped along his way

and every gaze had centered on the real hero that day.

For slowly as he limped along each person felt his pain,

and each observer stretched to see the boy out in the rain.

With each new step, the little boy came closer to the end,

but with tired legs and broken pride he tripped and fell - again.

And this time no one laughed aloud and no one made a sound,

and no one pointed fingers at the boy lying on the ground.

And no one jeered the little boy and no one broke a smile,

and no one breathed when the tired boy laid crumpled in a pile.

And no one uttered encouraging words that carried through the air,

and each observer truly thought the race had ended there.

But slowly, surely from the ground the boy raised his eyes,

and through the rain and swollen clouds came sunlight from the sky.

The tired boy looked swiftly to his father's rugged face,

and knew without a spoken word, he must complete the race.

He pulled himself to hands and knees and raised his broken frame,

and slowly kept on running with his eyes cast down in shame.

But as he crossed the finish line he felt a gentle hand,

his father was beside him and he knew he'd understand.

"I didn't win, I came in last. In fact I even fell."

but from behind the crowd stood up and all began to yell.

For leaders aren't the people that they started out to be,

but failures forge the person who will lead eventually.

So when you fall - get up again and carry on alone,

for setbacks can be failures or they can be stepping stones.

~unknown