Sweet Smell of Defeat

Loyal readers know I have been fascinated by Sonny Boy's wrestling this season - a sport beyond my comprehension. I missed his tournament last Saturday (Hubby was there), but here is a synopsis of a phone conversation:

Mom - How did this first match go, honey?
Sonny Boy - I lost.
M - Well I'm sure you did your best. You seem okay about it.
SB - I didn't get pinned until the last few seconds. I was wrestling a girl. (pause) She's hot.
M - Oh?
SB - Yeah - all the other guys on my team want to wrestle her too, but she's not in their weight class.
M- Well, I'm glad you got to wrestle her sweetie. Hope your other matches go better.

Rasslin?

Sonny Boy has undertaken a new sport recently - wrestling. He joined the team a few weeks ago and had his first match yesterday afternoon. My knowledge of the wrestling world is quite limited. I had a little exposure in junior high when the wrestling coach made a point of saying "Rasslin!" continually. I knew they wore really tight outfits and rolled around on each other, but that was about it.

There are those moments when inherent gender differences seem to come to light. Yesterday was one of those moments. I sat with one of the other moms - as clueless as I was about the sport. We watched the boys in their little spandex getups rolling around all over each other, trying to pin the shoulder blades to the mat. It was just plain weird. And a little gross. But the boys love it. They won't ever hug each other, but they will be all over each other in little outfits for competition's sake.

I voiced my total support for Sonny Boy. I am proud of how hard he is working in this sport, and I am trying to learn the basic rules. Yet, I don't think I will ever quite get the love that males have for it. Just not made that way...