Narrative Essay About Wrestling

"Sal, I'm sorry. I don't think I can do this tomorrow." That summer, my older brother had decided to drag me, a scrawny incoming freshman with no wrestling experience, to an intensive weeklong, two-a-day wrestling camp. There I was, thrown into the deep-end, without a clue of how to wrestle. The other wrestlers constantly tossed me, took me down, and turned me on my back. The bruises and mat burns started appearing as I was beaten over and over again. This was not a fun experience. Battered and bruised, on the verge of tears, I told my brother that I couldn't do this camp. I'll never forget how he responded. "If you quit now, don't think about joining wrestling at Ignatius. You're not tough enough."
I'm not tough enough? I thought to myself. No way I'm not tough enough. I'll show him.
The next day turned out to be no different than the first. So did the next day, and the day after that. I didn't realize it then, but something other than my wrestling ability was being strengthened here. My attitude on the mat changed from fear to aggression. I may not have known how to do anything, but that wasn't going to stop me from taking the offensive. Before I knew
Having played football, I know what attention feels like: the glamour, pep rallies, cheerleaders, and big crowds under the Friday night lights. Wrestling has none of that. No external motivations could keep me going to wrestling practice, or cutting weight on treadmills by myself after practice. I needed to build a sense of pride in my abilities in order to be internally motivated. Wrestling has taught me how to dig deeper when I feel I have nothing left. There's a famous quote that goes, "Fatigue makes cowards of us all." This saying holds especially true in third periods of wrestling matches. That period is always won by the person who just wants it