I found these poems on the internet and wanted to share them with you. Anyone who has ever had a son wrestle can relate to these poems. I do not know the authors.
Poems
The Wrestling Parent
Parents in wrestling are courageous-it’s true,
They feel all the pain that their boy must go through.
At home, when he diets, they wish it could stop,
Yet know he must do it to stay on top.
Excuses for losing they will never endure,
Don’t blame the ref, son, because of the score.
The coach, he will show you the best way to move,
Keep working at practice if you want to improve.
At duel meets you’ll see them whispering a prayer,
As their boy must compete with no one else there.
Whatever the outcome-Mom cheers with deep pride,
While dad-you will notice-stands right by his side.
They’ll drive to tournaments; many miles away,
To witness a son who’s prepared for this day.
Their boy, he has trained, with all his might,
Having hopes of becoming a champion tonight.
But should he fall short, at his corner you’ll find,
A mother and a father–supportive and kind.
They teach that through wrestling he’ll learn about life,
Yes, living is filled with both triumph and strife.
Now if you are searching for people who care,
Just look by a mat, they’ll always be there.
Such love for the sport is truly inherent,
That’s why we salute, THE WRESTLING PARENT!
My Son Has Joined The Wrestling Team
My son has
joined the wrestling team, I don’t know what to say,
I fear that he will stink like sweat, after practice every day.
I wish my son would play a game, or shoot a bouncing ball,
Instead he joins the wrestling team, which has no class at all.
My son is
watching all he eats, he eats the foods he hates,
He knows what foods are good for him, he has to cut some weight.
He works to learn reversals, and take downs that are planned,
Hand control and when to shoot, and how to pin his man.
His uniform’s
a singlet, and a thing he calls “head” gear,
That’s all there is, no pads, no fuss, or fancy stuff to wear.
He talks about his wrestle offs, and how to take men down,
He shoots, he pins, he’s ready, for any kid in town.
Before I
have a chance to cheer, they twist and turn so fast,
My son is eating rubber, with his face upon the mat.
The buzzer sounds and I’m relieved, to see it’s at an end,
But no, he hasn’t finished yet, he takes the stance again.
They shouldn’t
make him do it, I think he’s had enough,
Why does he grovel on his knees, to prove that he is tough.
The referee is watching, each an every move he makes,
My son must know the rules, or learn from his mistakes.
He can not
cheat or hurt his man, or dare to throw a fit,
The ref will give away a point, without discussing it.
With every muscle straining, he tries his best to win,
Perseverance is the key, if he wants to make that pin.
Adversity
can’t keep him down, they roll and bridge and turn,
My son has found persistence, a lesson he must learn.
His companion’s endurance, as he strives until the end,
And if he has the guts, determination is his friend.
It takes a
lot of courage, and a certain kind of grit,
Self-reliance, spunk and luck, are all a part of it.
Each wrestler must give his all, no matter what the cost,
His gain will be tenacity, even if he’s lost.
And when the
match is over, the wrestlers will shake hands,
Good sportsmanship’s expected, from every wrestling man.
My son has joined the wrestling team, I’m proud to tell you why,
He’s learned the things that make a man, and make a mother cry.
