So this story begins during my first year of high school, it's just after my first day of football practice. "Hey Thrasher! Come over here." I heard my defensive line coach yell to me, "Whatcha need Coach Tut?" I asked, "Well I was wondering...look, we are starting up a wrestling team at school and I wanted to know if you wanted to join it." Said Coach Tut with a small gleam in his eye. Thinking it over in my head and remembering the many times as a child my father and I had gone to college wrestling tournaments I told my coach with a smile that I would definitely join. Little did I know at the time is that by answering yes to such a simple question would have quite the change on my outlook on life. Fast forward a couple of months to the first week of wrestling season. Thinking that I was in the best shape I had been in quite a long time from the football season I had thought that wrestling would be a cakewalk, boy I had never been more wrong in my life. The first day of practice Coach Tut told us that wrestling is ninety percent heart and ten percent muscle, when I asked him what that meant he simply responded "If you are still on the team during your senior year then you will understand what I mean  a little confused I just took what he said and continued on getting ready to go home. There is no true way to explain the next morning than utter agony, I woke up to my muscles screaming in pain as if I had been hit by a truck. Barely able to get out of bed I slowly made my way to the kitchen to get my breakfast ready. I was greeted by my mother who looked up from the stove as she heard my bedroom door open "Good morning  she said while stirring some corned beef hash in the pan "Good morning  I sleepily replied. "So how are you feeling this morning?  she asked "I feel like I've been to hell and back and back to hell and back again  I grumbled disdainfully "Well at least you are young enough to recover fast, you should be fin