Wrestling: It's a family Tradition

If you know my family, you know that we are all about one activity; wrestling. A long-standing pastime and tradition, most likely originated in my dad’s Karate days (him being a black belt and all). As children, we begged and begged for ‘papa’ to wrestle with us. He would ‘let us win’ leading us to think we were getting good, good enough to challenge a black belt! All the neighborhood boys would, from time to time, beg him to take them all on at once, and he would oblige.

Circa 1990

As siblings, Jason and I would argue in the form of wrestling, meaning, when we were mad at each other, we would solve it with violence. This form of ‘conflict resolution’ worked in my favor only as long as I was bigger than him, since when you are bigger, dead weight trumps skill. But as he grew, so did his muscles and my only advantage diminished. We solved many problems with wrestling. But now, I usually just avoid this pastime with the brothers, cuz I don’t win anymore. If I want to ‘get’ them, my only defense is tickling. A seemingly girlish, copout tactic, but it’s my only option! Have you seen the size of these guys?!

Dad and Brother, Circa 1988/89

My mom wishes this tradition would just go away. The men in the house cannot walk past each other without ‘starting something up.’ They can’t! They HAVE to jab, attack, pin, squeeze, twist, grunt, and knock over the furniture on a regular basis. How many times has my mom called out these phrases:

‘Can we please just have one nice Thanksgiving dinner without chaos and wrestling?’

‘Is it too much to ask to not wrestle in the car, while driving, just once?’

‘We just can’t have nice things!’

‘Stop wresting when the guests are here, and stop wrestling with the guests!’

Sorry mom, this tradition ain’t going no where! The grandkids have gotten in on the action too. Now they are the little ones running down here begging papa to wrestle with them. This family ‘tradition’ or ‘sport’ is deep seeded in our name. When males think of my dad, many think of having their hand squeezed to half its size in a hand shake, or getting a ‘massage’ that leaves only pain and no relief. Others still, recall being called a ‘little pencil neck’ time and time again. So, take this post as a disclaimer. If you are a victim of this family ‘tradition’ please know that it is nothing personal. It’s just what we do!