Franklin's Wrestling Mom

[lockedhands]

I had a great conversation with Mrs. Sandy Bennett this weekend at the Region 6 tournament. First I would like to congradulate her and her husband for raising 3 incredible young men; also 3 young men who made it through to the state tournament next week. However, I am posting this to reconize all the parents who do so much for our sport and children... Thank you and continue the great work and support to our sport and community..

[sundancer]

Franklin & Williamson County have been blessed by having the Bennett's in their wrestling community - they are a great family and have given so much of themselves to the sport of wrestling to all levels of wrestling in Williamson County.

[Hamm]

I have to agree with this board, TOTALLY!! Franklin High traditionally has a WONDERFUL group of parents. Sundancer is one of them also! Wrestling parents are a great group, who do not always agree, but their hearts are all in the right place. My hat goes off to you all!

[FHScoachT]

Isn't it interesting how things happen and then they make sense why?? I received this story from the Bennett's just last week and then here is this post on coach T. I don't care how tough you think you are, this hits the heart and tells you exactly what it's all about

 

The Wrestling Shoes

By Reba Rambo-McGuire

 

Sandy Bennett was late. And it was all because of the shoes.

9:58 a.m.

Nervous fingers tapped incessantly on the freshly detailed steering wheel of her pristine white mini-van.

The morning sun squinted through the shivering limbs of naked trees and skipped off the large citrine stone of her silver thumb ring. Dancing prism lime fireflies distracted her momentarily from her driveway perch where she and her three boys had waited 28 minutes for the mail delivery truck to arrive.

 

A distant rumbling, a scraping of gears, and she was out the door to meet the tortoise-slow driver. “9:59, Ms. Bennett,†Fred the postman droned, oblivious to Sandy’s impatience. “A couple more minutes, and it would have been on us.â€

 

“Just give me that clipboard and let me sign,†Sandy hurried. “I should have left thirty minutes ago for the boy’s wrestling tournament but I need to get Zach’s shoes.†The fashionably athletic-clad whirlwind scribbled, snatched the box, and drove off before the bewildered Fred could wave good-bye.

 

She tossed the package toward the backseats. “Zach, open the tape and put these on,†she commanded. “Try not to get stuff everywhere, and guys you stay tight in your seatbelts because I have to fly!†Mercifully, there was little traffic on the back-roads to the sprawling county school complex. She invented a parking space on the edge of the crowded grass, glanced into the mirror at her natural-born olive-toned face, chestnut pony tail, and warm-up jacket monogrammed: “Bennett Boys Mom.†“It’ll have to do.â€

 

She leaped and opened the sliding door. “Get your gear and let’s boogie, guys!†A sea of black and shamrock-green piled out. Zach, the twins Alex and Andy, and three too-big duffle-bags. They knew the drill. Line up for inspection. Alex: sleek as a cat, cotton-tipped blond hair which he insisted on gelling up cowlick straight in the front; a natural athlete like his Mom. His fraternal twin Andy: broad-shouldered with a buddah-belly, contagious dimpled smile, more ham than athlete; his father’s son. Zach: Sandy-dark, big gypsy-black eyes, intense, competitive, sensitive. Sandy grinned at her little band of brothers standing at attention. Their first wrestling tournament and they were ready.

 

She flashed back. How many competitions had she trained for in her career? How many local, state and regional meets? How many times had she pressed to win medals in rhythmic gymnastics?

Of course she loved it. Loved when she had been chosen to train at the Olympic Training Center. Loved competing internationally for five years. Now, her competing days were over – three children over, in fact. But she thrived on coaching gymnastics, teaching dance, choreographing, and performing her graceful art. It was all part of who she was.

 

At last, she and her husband Joel had found a sport all three boys enjoyed, no simple task. They had experimented with everything from soccer to swimming – costly experiments. But she didn’t want to think about money today. So much of life was about the money issue. The leap of faith to move to Nashville. The quantum leap for Joel to thrust into freelance Television production. Actually purchasing a modest home.

 

Sandy had saved her pennies, bargained for a used professional monogramming machine, and sewed her delicate stitches ‘til the wee hours of the morning. Joel ran T.V. cameras at local football games … whatever it took to have a better life for their family. Sandy shopped carefully the week before the tournament, took her own birthday money and purchased the boys singlets [one-piece wrestling suits] and wrestling shoes.

 

But there had been no shoes to be found in Nashville in Zach’s size. In desperation, she phoned mail order businesses and finally paid full retail plus overnight shipping – thus today’s near-miss with the postman. To see her boys now all lined up, so perfect, so proud, was worth all the sacrifice.

 

She almost missed the tear in Zach’s eye. “Honey, what’s the matter?†she asked.

 

“Mommy, my new shoes are so big I don’t know if I can keep them on.†Panicked, she knelt and felt his feet. “Why, these are huge!†she moaned. “These must run really large!†For a moment, she bit her lip and considered. “But, big or not, we are sooo late!â€

 

The four hurried into the complex … only to discover there were tables full of shoes of every size and description on sale! Joel was waiting for them as they rushed in. Sandy’s eyes lit up at the display of shoes, and she quickly greeted her husband with, “Honey, Zach’s new shoes are way too big. We can either save them for later, or return them tomorrow.â€

 

“It’s okay, Dad,†Zach’s voice quivered. “I can stuff an extra pair of socks in them.â€

 

“Let’s see how fast we can find a pair that fits,†Joel sighed. “No lunch for me this week,†he mumbled, forking over the cash. The husband and wife smiled at each other in wordless agreement – everything and anything for their boys. The brothers hurriedly found their coaches and teammates while Joel and Sandy climbed into the bleachers just as the starting whistle blew.

 

A side door opened and in scrambled an excited team of boys, The Visitors. Boys in no-name sneakers. Dirty, torn mismatched shirts and shorts. Yelling good-naturedly in the slow drawl and dialect of the back-woods south. They spoke “hillbilly.†Typical boys ready for wrestling, confident and eager for sport.

 

Then she saw … him. Trailing behind, staring at his shuffling feet, trying to be invisible. Stray wisps of curls on his ears crying out for a haircut. Tall for his age, with hands too big for his lanky frame. “Wouldn’t that visiting boy like Zach’s too-big wrestling shoes?†the Voice inside whispered.

 

“But God, they were $50 dollars plus $16.95 for overnight delivery!†Sandy reasoned. “I could return them tomorrow … money is so tight, as You know.†But still the Voice wooed, so she turned to her husband. “Joel, I think God just spoke to me to give that little boy over there Zach’s shoes. Tell me I’m crazy.â€

 

“Honey, if God said to do it, then sow the seed, girl!†Sandy slipped quietly over to the visiting coach. “Do you think he would be offended if I gave that little boy on your team these shoes?†she pointed. “They’re new, but they don’t fit my son.â€

 

“Ma’am, I reckon he would think it was Christmas,†the coach grinned.

 

Joel and Sandy watched the light-bulb flash in the boy’s face as the coach handed him his amazing gift. All his team gathered around and reverently helped him lace up his shoes. Joel and Sandy gazed in wonder as a gangly boy in rags strode to the center court like a confident athlete. They stood up and cheered as he pinned his stunned opponent to the mat.

 

After the initial excitement waned and the tournament continued, Sandy noticed the boy now standing in his stocking feet on the sidelines. “Maybe he didn’t like the shoes so much after all,†she thought out loud.

 

“No, honey,†Joel exclaimed. “Look what’s happening!†A bewildered Sandy turned to see the next boy on the visiting “hillbilly team†now wearing the miraculous wrestling shoes. She screamed herself hoarse, mascara dripping to her toenails, as each boy took his turn in the treasured shoes. At the end of the tournament, an elated Sandy was gathering up her things when she felt a tug on her jacket.

 

“Thank-you, sweet lady,†the young athlete stuttered, hugging her tightly, and then quickly running away.

 

“Didn’t I say, ‘Give, and it shall be given back to you’?†the Voice whispered. As she climbed into her own vehicle, Sandy could see a tattered bunch of laughing heroes donning medals piling into their dilapidated van. No back seats, just dirty bare floors. But one mighty conqueror was given the honor of a throne: the only passenger seat. In his arms, the victor’s spoils … the wrestling shoes.

 

 

 

 

[Author’s Note: This is a true story. The three Bennett boys also competed great at that first of many tournaments. By the way, my jacket boasts: “Bennett Boys Grand-Reebs.â€]

 

copyright 2002 Reba Rambo-McGuire all rights reserved

[PUMMELKING]

Now as a parent and a coach if that story does not have a place in your heart you are in the sport for the wrong reason.

[nevertoolate7]

That's an amazing story! So many kids don't appreciate what they have

[sundancer]

That's an amazing story! So many kids don't appreciate what they have

 

Great story about an amazing wrestling family - so glad I can call them my neighbor as well!

[lockedhands]

What a great story!!!Just another example of paying forward...

[Jackson]

Great story, I remember several years ago when I was coaching, Coach Hambrick invited Karns to come to Franklin during Christmas Holidays to wrestle in a two day dual meet. The parents of the wrestling team invited the Karns team to stay in their homes. A great group of folks.