Interscholastics The Middle School Way

Wrestling the Middle School Way means aligning your program with the goals and principles of Middle School education and sticking to your guns when the going gets tough.  How does all this relate to your Middle School wrestling team?  First and foremost, Middle School teams are meant to be egalitarian, not elitist.  In twenty three years of coaching, I never cut anyone.  Now, not everyone lasted the long haul.  That’s the way Middle school kids are.  If a kid comes out for wrestling and decides after two weeks it’s not his cup of tea, then the system is working.  We’re supposed to create a safe environment for choices and experimentation. 

            My Middle School teams were frequently working at least two weeks before basketball began.  When tryout week came, we would regularly lose seven or eight guys to the round ball.  When I was younger, it would make me furious.  I felt betrayed, and sometimes it would even poison the relationship between me and that wrestler.  As I matured, I ceased taking it so personally.  More often than not we would get six out of the eight back, and even net a few valuable new members after cut downs were made.  One of my tried and true recruiting pitches was, “In wrestling, you’ll never sit on the bench and you’ll never be cut.” 

            Middle School sport is the diametric opposite of the increasingly popular “traveling team” concept, where the sons of the privileged compete to become part of ever-smaller and more elite groups.  Examples of the concept in practice include unlimited enrollment tournaments, where five kids can be entered  in a sixteen-man bracket if you have the horses.  Dual and tri-matches where no team score is kept is the ideal, and Middle Schools are supposed to wrestle other Middle Schools in a true interscholastic approach. 

            The second key concept governing Middle school athletics is age-appropriateness.   

What that means is that the breadth and scope of everything done should have deliberate limits.  You’re not supposed to train a twelve year-old like you train an eighteen year-old (see my previous post “Not An Exact Mirror – 12 Is Not The New 18“).    The practice plan of a Middle School coach should be geared to the fundamental needs of the beginning wrestler.  Teach them all they can learn, but keep the practice length under two hours and the intensity level somewhat less that the Olympic training center.

            Varsity match ups are governed strictly by weight, but that is not appropriate where Middle School age boys are concerned.  You may think your fifth grade son is ready to take on that eighth grader, but it’s probably ego rather than good sense talking.  Dollars to doughnuts it’s a mismatch.  The physical, mental, and emotional gulf between the two ages is vast, and a responsible coach should take age and experience level into consideration when doing the pairings.

            There should also be limits on the amount of time spent in practice in a day and the number of matches a kid should wrestle in a day.  It’s not merely a matter of superior conditioning.  The bodies of Middle School age kids are surprisingly delicate, and they are not ready to take relentless poundings.  Let’s not forget that growing boys need food, rest, and homework time to succeed in school, not a trip to a second practice at elite training centers.

            The final principle governing Middle School athletics is the developmental approach.  The whole idea is that we match up the kids and let them wrestle.  Middle School is intended to be a developmental league where kids get matches, period.  Middle School coaches are supposed to match up their kids according to age and ability level and let them wrestle and learn.  Scheming to get a “W” is supposed to be deliberately subtracted from the equation.   The often puzzling unwritten traditions of Middle school wrestling all revolve around the fact that there is a part of our sport that doesn’t exist in any other:  the shameful practice of weight cutting.  These traditions are intended to remove the incentive to cut weight.  Without weight classes, no weight need be cut.  Without score, mismatches need not be sought.   In the old days, if a kid missed a weigh in, we probably let him in the tournament anyway.  It was more important that he wrestle than be scratched for eating breakfast.  It’s not where you are, it’s how far you’ve come.

The Forgotten Secret Principles

I coached Middle School wrestling for over twenty three years, and I loved just about every minute.  I loved the enthusiasm and exuberance that all those twelve year olds brought into my wrestling room.  Teaching to such a receptive audience was extremely gratifying, because the kids were learning every technique for the first time, and whatever I showed them was the coolest thing they ever saw.  What I loved most about being a Middle School coach was having my own team.  I could make all the plans and call all the shots – and I lived for it.   I did everything a varsity coach did with only a fraction of the pressure and expectations.  What more could a coach want?

In the beginning I, like most other young coaches, viewed Middle School as a stepping stone to a varsity career.  By the end I had no desire to be promoted to my level of incompetence.  I worked for about five head coaches over the years, all of whom offered me the chance to move up to junior varsity or assistant varsity, and all of whom were quickly turned down.  I was simply having too much fun and too much success to want to screw things up.

Middle School is different, and Middle School will change you.  It’s not where you are, it’s how far you’ve come. It’s more than practice plans and pushups.  A Middle School coach must know, and be willing to do, what is right for his kids.  That knowledge must be guided by the laws of education, not the laws of competition.  A Middle School coach must use his experience, his judgment, and his compassion to create an age-appropriate environment for his wrestlers.

When I wrote the Rockmart Takedown Club Handbook in 1989, banged out on an Apple IIE and printed on tractor-fed paper, I was determined to set down a declaration of principles to serve as the foundation of my feeder program.  The first part showcased what I considered to be five basic ethical principles every responsible youth team should operate under.  To this day those five principles still personify what I believe responsible leadership is all about.  Twenty years later, those five principles exist now only in my memory.

These principles are not secrets to gaining the winning edge in competition.  They are not guidelines for creating the ultimate practice plan, nor are they a technical system for turning your program into a juggernaut.  They are intended to serve as a template for a good Middle School coach’s decision making process.  They are principles to live by, and they are what I believe the Middle School Way should be.

A Middle School team should:

1. Be a child-focused, learning-focused organization.

2. Reinforce the principles of Middle School education which focus on the development and maturation of its members.

3. Provide a safe and age-appropriate introduction to the fundamentals of the sport.

4. Teach fun, fundamentals, character, and sportsmanship through practice and competition.

5. Discourage the cutting of weight, the making of mismatches, and encourage the full participation of all wrestlers in all activities.

This is what I call The Middle School Way.  It’s a way that says Middle School wrestling should run for the benefit of its children, that it should not be an exact mirror of varsity competition, and that it should be limited in its goals and scope.  Frankly, this philosophical stance could apply not just to wrestling, but to any sport or endeavor undertaken by parents and children of this particular age group. 

If you are a Middle School teacher reading this for the first time, then the things I’m saying should resonate and reinforce practices you are already living by.  If you are a parent volunteer or a lay coach looking for ways to set up a proper program for your Middle school age team, then hopefully the material here will challenge some of your preconceptions and open up new understanding about the wonderful, fragile, and fun children you have accepted responsibility for.  Coaching the Middle School Way is never the easy way, but I think it’s the only right way.

Too Cool To Be A Joke

You know, there’s only so long you can be a good sport without beginning to get mad.  When I saw that the subject of one of my favorite comedies was going to be wrestling, I dared to hope.  Not that my sport would be mentioned, but that it would be ignored.  I hoped the victim of the lampooning would be wrestling of the professional variety.  Perhaps, I thought, they won’t get around to making amateur wrestling look stupid once again.  That’s what I get for hoping.

The plot did indeed feature the boys going to a WWE show, getting fired up, then seeking out the school’s wrestling coach the next day.  The boys show up for class dressed out in singlets and headgear.  In real life kids wear t-shirts and shorts. The coach is also dressed in such a way as to make him look ridiculous.  I guess that was the point, though I’ve never seen anyone coach practice dressed in a low cut freestyle singlet, and I’ve been around a long time.  When the coach tries to show his new students the fundamentals of referee’s position, they recoil as though they were being molested.  “Dude, this is gay!” they protest, and flee the scene.  To add insult to injury, the coach is later portrayed as a pedophile with gay porn on his IPod.

Now I don’t have such a stick up my butt that I can’t laugh along with an audience who might find the finer points of wrestling amusing, but where, I ask you, are the positive images of amateur wrestling?   Whether it’s South Park or The Pacifier, amateur wrestling is always portrayed at best as ludicrous, at worst, aberrant.  I even remember a TV series from the early 90’s (I’ll Fly Away) where the two protagonists are presented their wrestling uniforms in a bizarre naked ritual that would make any parent wonder about a sport where such things are countenanced.   Well, mom and dad, they aren’t.

In fact, I can remember only one example when wrestling was made to look cool.  Wrestlers all know what I’m talking about.  VisionQuest.   While the 1985 Matthew Modine vehicle now looks dated (complete with mullets, jeri curls, and a young Madonna bogeying in the background) it’s still the only time cinema has shown the wrestling experience with a nod to realism and accuracy in its positive portrayal.

In real life few kids are dumb enough to expect a boxing ring at practice, and they are always intrigued and interested in what they do find.  What tends to attract new recruits is the idea of single combat, and once they see the older boys hitting double legs, hip throws, and cradles, they usually can’t wait to see more.  The stuff they see on TV is flashy and exciting, but real wrestling works.  When they actually learn how to take someone down and pin them, they can’t get enough.  And while I’ve had many self conscious boys express reluctance to put on the spandex singlet, I’ve never once in all my years had someone yell, “Dude, this is gay!” and run out of the joint.

I did, however, once encounter a group of boys who thought they might be joining a professional troupe.  One year five Hispanic students of mine did show up the first day of practice rather colorfully attired.  All five wore genuine leather Mexican luchadore masks along with their purple and gold Lumpkin County t-shirts.  One even had his headgear bucked over the mask.  As Homer Simpson once confided, “Down there, it’s a real sport!”  They were an immediate hit.  The other boys thought it was the coolest thing ever.  When they found out different, no one quit.  Four out of the five stuck with the team, and one even became a state champion.

As for those immature souls who think the sport is gay, they usually take care of themselves.  Those who can’t handle being touched don’t last long, and those who can’t handle being physically dominated by another person soon weed themselves out.  Those that remain are in for an experience like no other sport in the world.  Most parents become intense fans.  I even had one mother exclaim, “This is the most exciting thing I’ve ever seen!”  I just wish all the Hollywood screenwriters who see wrestling as a source of cheap laughs were made to go even one period with the coaches they portray so negatively.  Then we might be the ones laughing.

How The USFL Changed My Life

Many of you may not even remember the United States Football League, but I’ve discovered after watching Mike Tollin’s documentary Small Potatoes: Who Killed the USFL? that I owe it — and its most famous alumni —  more than I ever realized.  You see, I was an original member of their fan base, and if not for this upstart organization I might not be where I am today.  The USFL truly did change my life.

            It all starts with my father.  He was a huge sports fan, but he had no one to share it with.  He and mom held season tickets to the Atlanta Falcons, but the only way they could persuade their children to leave the house on cold Sunday mornings during football season was to promise them Chick Fil A sandwiches at Fulton County Stadium.

            He had a son – me – who felt, like Heath Ledger’s character Sir Ulrich in A Knight’s Tale, that he was trapped by his stars and unable to change them.  What was a child born with mild cerebral palsy to do?   I felt shut out, and responded by angrily rejecting all things athletic.  I was into books and I was into music, but I wanted nothing to do with sports.     

            Then along came a kid out of Johnson County who ran over Bill Bates in Knoxville, powered UGA to the National Championship, and went into the corner standing.  He was Herschel Walker, the greatest college football player of all time, and my first sports hero.  I was absolutely captivated by the exploits of this giant in red who wore number thirty four.  I even believed the apocryphal tales of how he had once saved a pregnant woman from a burning car by ripping the door off its hinges and then kept right on jogging down Milledge Avenue.   

            For the first time in my life, I stopped hating sports and began to follow Walker’s career.  Then, not long after the sudden death of Alabama’s Bear Bryant, speculation was rampant that Herschel would leave Georgia early for the pros.  I had never heard of the USFL, but was extremely pleased to see that my hero would be wearing a familiar red helmet and jersey for his new team, the Generals.  I became a die hard original fan of the United States Football League. 

            I had entered high school and I was restless.  Even more was going on below the surface, at a subconscious level.  I began to see sport, and the human connection it offered to my peers and the world at large, as something I could be a part of.   Someone who had felt cut off and shut out all his life was beginning to glimpse a way back in. 

            Two friends of mine who were brothers used to wear these interesting yellow t-shirts to school featuring a sport that was new to me.  The back of these shirts read: “Wrestling:  A Special Sport for Special People.”  Could I be one of those special people?  Could this be my way of reaching out and finally changing my stars?  I decided to go out for the wrestling team, and I changed my stars more than I ever dreamed possible.

            The USFL folded, and Herschel went to play for the Dallas Cowboys.  I traveled a short distance down the highway to the University of Georgia for an all-too-brief four years.  While I was there I often searched Milledge Avenue for signs of that burning car wreck and looked in many a roadside bush for traces of the door that Herschel ripped from its hinges, but I never found them.  I did, however, begin to follow the NFL, and eventually I continued down the road from Athens into the wider adult world.

            By the time Herschel’s career came to a highly respectable end, I saw him for what he was: a rather eccentric fellow human being and not a god.  Yet to this day he remains a gentleman and a fine role model for young people.  He’s still the pride of UGA and all Georgia.  I went on to a twenty three year career as a Middle School teacher and wrestling coach which culminated in my recent induction into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame.

            Watching Tollin’s documentary, it was easy to see that while Walker remains a respected legend, his boss Donald Trump (who killed the USFL) has become a national buffoon.  The documentary also shows how all the former NFL legends who played during those three brief seasons remember it as a very positive experience.  I also remember those “halcyon days,” as Tollin puts it, with great warmth and fondness.  They were the happiest days of my life.

            I also have one other thing to thank Herschel Walker and the USFL for.  The changes they helped bring about in my life opened up a whole new relationship between me and my father.  Through sports we were able to bond, and for the first time I really felt a new warmth, respect, and love grow between us.  Throughout those years I never passed up a chance to give my dad a hug.  Good thing, too, because we didn’t have much time.  I lost my dad to lymphatic cancer in the fall of 1988, but I feel very lucky.  Many men who lose their fathers are tormented by doubt.   I’ve often heard them mourn the things that were left unsaid, or how they just wish they’d told their fathers how much they loved them.  I’m lucky because I’m free from that kind of doubt or regret.  Before the end, my dad knew how much I loved him, and I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, how much he loved me.

            I hear now that the eclectic Herschel, who once tried ballet and bobsledding, has decided to test himself against the young pit bulls of mixed martial arts.  Many might see this as the forty-seven year-old ex-jock’s mid-life crisis, and cringe at the thought of his potential downfall.  I, however, have no doubts of the outcome.  Even if those youngsters entered the octagon armed with pistols instead of lineman’s gloves, they would stand no chance at all.  Don’t they know this is Herschel Walker?  The bullets would bounce off.

Ellrott Inducted Into Wrestling Hall of Fame

Two local wrestling coaches were inducted Sunday night into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame. Shown are (left) Doug Thurmond, coach at Jefferson High School, and Darryl Ellrott, former coach at Commerce Middle School.

The following is a reprint of the article in the Commerce News, that appeared October 7, 2009:

Not many Commerce area residents can claim membership in a hall of fame. Commerce Middle School teacher and former wrestling coach Darryl Ellrott is one of the few who can. Ellrott, 42, was inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Sunday night by the Georgia chapter of the organization. He received the Medal of Courage after three years of high school  wrestling and 23 years as a middle school wrestling coach.Ellrott was taken completely by surprise. “Kendall Love probably nominated me,” Ellrott speculated. “He had me fooled.”

Love told Ellrott to be at the reception Sunday at the Hilton Northeast, Duluth, because the Commerce squad was up for a team award. ”I was quite grateful and really stunned,” Ellrott recalled. “I’m just a poor old middle school coach and didn’t think I had that many accomplishments,”

Ellrott wrestled for three years at CHS under Coach Steve Savage. He was always at a disadvantage because of mild cerebral palsy, which affected his balance, “I didn’t compensate all that well,” Ellrott recalls. “My won-lost record is not terribly impressive.” That, he pointed out, was not the point.

“Winning and losing was not what it was all about,” he said. “It was one thing that made my high school years in Commerce special.

For the first time in my life, I was able to fit in and find a place. It made me want to go into coaching and help other kids.” He started coaching middle school wrestlers at CMS at age 19, while in college, as a volunteer assistant to Robert Ellis. After  college, he taught language arts and was a middle school and junior varsity wrestling coach at Rockmart High School.

He taught and coached in Lumpkin County for eight years before returning to Commerce in 2006. He is now a language arts and reading teacher, but he gave up coaching wrestling as his cerebral palsy worsened. However, he will coach golf this year at CMS, taking the position because “if I hadn’t, there wouldn’t have been a team.”

A former student at Lumpkin County, David Nichols, is taking over the slot as CMS wrestling coach. “Pretty ironic, isn’t it?” quipped Ellrott.

According to the National Wrestling Hall of fame, “the Medal of Courage is presented annually to a wrestler or former wrestler who has overcome what appear to be insurmountable challenges, which may be physical, mental or other handicaps that make their achievement all the more uplifting.”

“It is not often that anyone has the honor of being inducted not just into a hall of fame, but a national hall of fame,” commented CMS principal Chuck Bell. “I think this is an amazing achievement and one that is certainly deserved. As a wrestler, as wrestling coach, Darryl epitomized what comes through commitment and hard work. I’m extremely proud; as a colleague, I can’t say enough about that recognition.”

Ellrott is reportedly the first person from the Commerce School System to be inducted into the National Wrestling Hall of Fame. Jefferson mat coach Doug Thurmond was also inducted Sunday for lifetime service to wrestling. The son of Jimmie Ellrott and the late Don Ellrott, he is a 1989 graduate of the University of Georgia with a degree in education. Ten years later he got his master’s degree in English education, also from UGA.

“It’s been a great honor and privilege to come home after all these years,” Ellrott said. “It was something that was always a goal when I left 20-something years ago. I didn’t think it was ever going to happen, but then an opportunity came up to help Kendall build the program up.”

The National Wrestling Hall of Fame is headquartered in Stillwater, Oklahoma.

Not An Exact Mirror – 12 Is Not the New 18

Our Intermediate Camp day was an unqualified success.  Yet, almost before it was over, I was hit by one of those red-flag questions that make Middle school coaches sit up and take notice.  A parent asked me what I thought about our ability to fill out a full set of weight classes next year.  He felt that victory against Jefferson Middle School was almost within our grasp.

It was an earnest question asked with the best of intentions, but its entire premise (and the accompanying set of unspoken assumptions behind it) was wrong.   The idea that there is a standardized set of weight classes for Middle school, that score is kept, that the goal is to scheme a victory against the other squad, and  that this was the way it ought to be – just like Varsity – is not what Middle school wrestling is all about.

This parent had the best of intentions, but he was looking at the situation through Varsity eyes, not Middle school ones.  The idea of age-appropriateness is often misunderstood.  In the last essay I discussed what a Middle School was – how it revolved around concepts of developmentally appropriate education.  That means that Middle school sports are not intended to be exact mirrors of Varsity programs. 

In Varsity competition there are fifteen weight classes to determine a victory, and empty weight classes result in forfeits to the opponent.  A Varsity coach will often ask a wrestler to wrestle up one or more classes to avoid such a forfeit.  A 17 or 18-year old can handle this situation, but it is not appropriate to ask an 11 or 12-year old to do so.  There is no “taking one for the team” in Middle school.   We believe in team, and even in teaching selflessness, but there are limits to what we are willing to do.  That’s why there are no weight classes in Middle School wrestling.  There is no official team score kept in Middle school duals, except by consent or agreement of the two coaches, and that is a very new phenomenon.  Middle School coaches are supposed to match up their kids according to age and ability level and let them wrestle and learn.  Scheming to get a “W” is supposed to be deliberately subtracted from the equation.   

Is this another example of soft-headed “self-esteem” education, where everyone’s a winner and no one is allowed to lose?   Of course not.  Commerce always plays to win, but it’s “win the right way,” not “win at any cost.”   Score is kept in other youth sports and the world doesn’t come to an end.  Why not in wrestling?  The often puzzling unwritten traditions of Middle school wrestling all revolve around the fact that there is a part of our sport that doesn’t exist in any other:  the shameful practice of weight cutting.  These traditions are intended to remove the incentive to cut weight.  I like to think of it as  1) no weight cutting, 2) avoid mismatches, and 3) everybody wrestles.  Without weight classes, no weight need be cut.  Without score, mismatches need not be sought.   In the end, Middle school is supposed to be developmental.  It’s not where you are, it’s how far you’ve come.

Some are about to remind me that these optimistic conditions don’t always exist in the real world.  I agree, and I intend to give you my opinions and my solutions in subsequent issues.  Once again, I invite your responses.

It’s Not Where You Are, But How Far You’ve Come

Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat:  Middle School coaches need to provide strong leadership.  If the coaches don’t do the leading, then others will.  I am a teacher, and that means everything I do must be guided by educational principles.  That’s what being on a Middle School team is all about, yet most parents know very little about this Middle school concept and how it influences this team.   Here is a brief explanation.

In the 1880’s the most common type of school configuration in America was an eight grade elementary school and a four grade high school.  Leading educators of the day felt that young adolescents wasted too much time in the last years of elementary school, and that a new system should be implemented that would allow more college prep courses at an earlier age.  What came next was the Junior High School, many consisting of grades 7-9, which mimicked the structure of the High School. 

The idea was to offer a more rigorous curriculum and combat high dropout rates by encouraging students to stay in school past grade eight.  Many good things came from the Junior High School, but, over a period of years, changes were called for.  It was felt that the Junior High School missed the mark by being too much like a High School and that the unique needs of the young adolescent weren’t being met. 

Eventually today’s Middle School was created to try and provide an environment and a curriculum that would allow young teenagers to grow and learn in a more age appropriate fashion.  The Middle School was geared to respond to the developmental needs of the students it served.   A broader range of introductory, or, tryout courses were introduced to enable young people to develop their interests and abilities.  The way students and teachers were organized was changed to allow interdisciplinary courses of study and to provide younger adolescents the more secure environment they needed to flourish and gain confidence.  The originators of the concept even wanted to do away with interscholastic athletics, replacing them with intramurals.  Now, even I wouldn’t go that far.

The point is that Middle School recognizes younger kids shouldn’t be treated like older kids.  If younger kids shouldn’t be taught like older kids, should they be coached like older kids?  Should a Middle School athletic team have exactly the same goals and use the same methods as a Varsity team?  The answer is no, and it’s my job to resist any influence that would take us down that wrong path.

So what should our goals be, and what methods should we be using to attain them?  And what things must we always be wary of?   These are the subjects of future issues, and I look forward to laying out my vision for you.  I welcome your responses.