From my heart I bequeath to you today one little boy … in a new singlet and shoes … with two wondering eyes … and a happy giggle that lasts all day long and a flash of blonde hair that gleams in the sunlight when he runs. I trust you'll treat him well.
He's slipping out of the wrestling room of my heart today … and running off down the drive to his first day of school and wrestling practice with you. And never again will he be completely mine. Standing tall and proud he'll wave his young and determined hand this morning and say "Good Bye"… and walk with little man steps to the schoolyard.
Now he'll learn to stand in lines … and wait for his name to be called when teams are picked. He'll learn to tune his ears to the sounds of referee whistles … and weight management … and he'll learn to laugh … and roll around … and look away quickly when the little girl across the class looks his way.
And now he'll learn to be jealous. And now he'll learn to win and to lose. And now he'll learn how it is to feel hurt inside. And now he'll learn how not to cry.
No longer will he have time to sit on the front porch steps on a hot summer day and watch a bug scurry across the crack in a sidewalk. Nor will he have time to pop out of bed with the dawn to urge all speed to the next wrestling tournament.
No, now he'll worry about important things.
Like grades … and which clothes look cool … and who he might have to beat for a place on the roster. And the magic of single legs takedowns and learning will replace the magic of bugs and puppies.
And now he'll find new heroes.
For all his life I've been his sage and Santa Claus and pal and coach and father and friend. Now he'll learn to share his worship with his coaches … which is only right. But, no longer will I be the smartest man in the whole world.
Today when that school bell rings for the first time … he'll learn what it means to be a member of a group, a team. With all it's privileges. And it's disadvantages too.
He'll learn in time that practice makes perfect and that its OK to laugh out loud. He'll learn that he may not have time to kiss dogs noses. Or keep frogs in pickle jars in bedrooms. Or even watch bugs scurry across cracks on the summer sidewalks.
Today he'll learn for the first time that all who smile at him are not his friends. And I'll stand on the front porch and watch him start out on the long, lonely journey to become a wrestler and a man.
And so Dear Coach:
From my heart I bequeath to you today one little boy … in a new singlet and shoes … with two big wondering eyes … and a happy giggle that lasts all day long and a flash of blonde hair that gleams in the sunlight when he runs. I trust you'll treat him well.
Adapted from a poem by Victor Buono
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