Frick I’m tired. This doesn’t really have much to do with the region itself, but it does directly impact how much I want to write today. If you’ve ever tried to write while tired, then you’re aware it’s a mental battle between your willpower and your brain saying “sleepsleepsleepsleepsleep!”
Instead of harping on that, though, I’ll write up this brief little entry about the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame. Out here in the Midwest, one of THE sports to follow is wrestling. Not pro wrestling, although that would arguably make a more entertaining hall of fame, but traditional wrestling. In my entry on the Cresco Fitness Center I made mention of this, but junior high and high school students will be hitting the gym after it gets out, drinking protein shakes and carrying magazines featuring men and occasionally women who have zero body fat and enough muscles that you have to wonder what the people on those muscle magazine covers do when they’re not oiled up and posing. I have trouble seeing them in an office environment, and there just aren’t enough gyms in the U.S. for these people to run all of them. Somewhere out there is a computer programmer or accountant who you would not want to push around is all I’m saying.
Back to my point that wresting in Iowa is huge. Perhaps part of it can be attributed to frustrated farmboys whose constant chores and physical regimens make them want to see just how strong they are, and it’s either sanctioned wrestling tournaments or bar fights. But if you drive through Iowa, you can take the wrestling challenge—put your radio on scan, then wait until the evening. The odds of you hearing a broadcasted wrestling match are better than average. So it makes sense that Iowa would have a wrestling hall of fame.
Choosing Cresco as the location, though, is a mystery. I have yet to read of any compelling reason why the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame would be in Cresco, rather than in, say, Des Moines where that sort of monument to state pride would be more at home. I suppose it could have been decided by a lottery.
The Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame is located in the Cresco Welcome Center, a pleasant little gray brick building that is adorned with a dark polished stone bench out front, a gravel garden with concrete walkways and a short squat appearance. It’s very Midwest—nice but not ostentatious. Inside, you’ll find the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame is very short and to the point. It doesn’t contain memorabilia or recounts of famous matches, but instead focuses on the inductees. Each inductee gets a photo taken, along with a brief biography that includes exactly what they did to deserve a spot in the hall of fame.
When you walk through it, you realize a couple of things. The first is that you generally become a member of the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame at a young age. All of the plaques have a picture of a man who is at least middle-aged, smiling congenially for the camera. Next to his picture is a photo of the same man in high school or college, dressed in full wrestling gear, in a standard wrestling ready position. Granted, I know as much about amateur wrestling as I do about nuclear fusion, but from the stance of the legs and the “ready to grapple” position of the arms, even a monkey could tell what it is. All these young men have a serious look on their faces, one that says, “I know you are the photographer, but if I wanted to I could detach your arms without much trouble.” It’s the look plenty of young men spend hours trying to cultivate. After about age 21, though, the chance to do something that earns you a spot in the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame decreases dramatically. Amateur wrestling, like most sports, is a game in which only the young can succeed. There are no Brett Farves here. When you leave college, you also leave amateur wrestling.
Secondly, the people that are in the Iowa Wrestling Hall of Fame have got to be doing it for the love of the sport. As I walked the hallway of the hall of fame, I realized that getting to this level is beyond getting a medal. The dedication showed here comes from beyond winning medals, from beyond getting the high school glory and the attention. At that point, it’s less about winning and more about a drive to perfect oneself in a chosen art.
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