Wrestlers and coaches get ready to enter the arena at the NCAAs (Photo/Tony Rotundo, WrestlersAreWarriors.com)If today were normal, it would be the second day of the NCAA Division I Wrestling Championships in Minneapolis. The arena would be quiet. Workers would be cleaning mats as the lights of the concession stand would flicker to attention. Overworked vendors would be ripping open boxes of T-shirts as agents headed to collect tickets paced by.
If today were normal, the wrestlers who'd made it through the grueling first day of competition would be weighing in for their chance to punch a ticket to Saturday's finals, or make their way to the title of All-American. They'd be anxious to get on the scale, their hair askew, eyes glossy from a night of poor sleep. Some would be returning from last-minute sprints to shed a pound or two, or stripping off their weight cutting clothes -- sweat streaming out from beneath the trim of their sweatshirts forming wet, darkened circles on the cement ground.
If today were normal, groups of coaches would be standing huddled in their chosen corners of the arena with small white cups of coffee in one hand, and a rolled-up bracket in the other. They'd be in their Friday best: an athletic polo with school crest emblazoned on their left pectoral, tucked evenly into their single-pleated khaki pants. They'd be breaking down the technical aspects of an upcoming matchup; who should avoid what next match, who should attack where, and how they matchup up when the next opponent is clear.
If today were normal, referees would be streaming out of their hotels -- well-appointed in their black and white striped uniforms. The blue NCAA logo placed just-so, and their outfit impeccable and ready for the 1080 broadcasts. They'd find their place in the arena to sit, prepare and head off to their respective pre-tournament meetings about what to watch for, what they learned on the first day, and how to call difficult scenarios.
If today were normal, parents of competitors would be in the breakfast room of a well-lit hotel lobby talking about team points, matchups, and yesterday's terrible officiating. They'd be wearing the school colors, with moms and sisters, wives and daughters wearing the logos of their team on the cheek. Maybe a weight class or two makes it on to a face. The grandparents would sit by and toss in their stories of NCAA tournaments of the past, talk of various cities and finals. They'd be laughing, carrying on, noticing the importance of the moment, but through jokes acknowledging it's temporary and fleeting relevance.
If today were normal, the wrestler would soon be leaving weigh-ins and huddling over an offering of bagels, fruit, cream cheeses, and energy bars inside their respective team's locker room. (Penn State's being a well-coordinated complex of rooms scouted out days in advance; Iowa an aggregation of tables in a medical office; the remainder of the teams spread buckshot around arena offices and visitor locker rooms.) After each drink the gaunt faces of wrestlers would start to ripen with color, their eyes moistening as their blood sugar rises and they return to a physical state something more like normal.
If today were normal, the journalists -- disrespected by their seat location, hungover from a late night of writing under the influence of craft brews and searching for a chew -- would be milling about their selected row of seats talking shop. Some would post an arm up on a colleague's chair and take a glance at their story, or graphic -- maybe share some gossip about the round's action, or remind each other of future results. Most would be looking for updated brackets.
If today were normal, the announcers would be walking across the mats to get to the dais overseeing the action. There would be some sound checks, and off-mic consultations about proper annunciation. The individual mat announcers would be seated at their mats dressed in the suits of a salesman, with slicked back hair accompanying high shone shoes. They'd tighten up to the table, strap on the Flips-like headphones and give their first words to the mat producer on the other end of the microphone.
If today were normal, fans would now have started to stream-in, row-by-row filling up the arena according to school allegiances, their color creating a pinwheel of Oklahoma State Orange, Iowa Black + Yellow, Penn State Blue + White, Ohio State Crimson + Gray. Moms and dads brothers and sisters would all be pointing out towards the mats, the grandparents sitting alongside flipping through the day's program.
If today were normal, the wrestlers would be littering the mat doing a combination of light jogging, forward rolling, and drilling. They'd be wearing full grey sweat suits -- their tops tucked into the pants, the pants tucked into the socks. One setup, two, and a quick high crotch -- no finish. Setups only. Some would have hit the ground, peeling hands as they go through the motions of their explosive standups. Coaches would be lording over, their brackets clinched in a hand under one arm pit and the other hand sits posted pensively on their mouth. They are the generals reviewing their respective armies.
If today were normal, music in the arena would be picking up. More wrestlers would begin to fill the mat, forcing the arena deejay to pump up the volume on DJ Khaled as the schools begin to jockey for spots on the mat. Moms and dads would be sitting in the upper decks, craning down, hands over their eyes, pointing to a "Where's Waldo" drawing trying to find their son amongst a landscape a 200-plus similar looking 18-23 year-old men.
If today were normal, the last of morning sessions fans would be arriving through the front gates. Hurried. Anxious to not miss a moment of this, their favorite time of year, their favorite day of the year.
If today were normal, referees would be assigned to mats, announcers would be taking one last deep breath, journalists would belly up to their seats, coaches would head into the underbelly of the arena.
If today were normal, Jason Bryant would clear his throat, pause, and then bellow out those words we all love to hear, "Wrestlers! Please clear the …"
If only today were normal.
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