Update

I know all of you that watch the news may be worried about me, but I am doing just fine. The North Korean attack was on an island along the desputed border between North and South Korea. The island consisted of a small population of fishermen and soldiers (about 1300). I am registered with the US State Department, and receive security updates through e-mail. If the conflict were to escalate, the State Department and US Military would help all US citizens evacuate. Such an escalation is very unlikely at this point, but if it happens I will be on my way home.

March Madness in September

Quick note: These events happened almost two months ago during our Chuseok celebration, right before I left for China. Had it not been for the amazing six days in China that I have devoted the last three posts to, I would have reported on this much sooner. I will tell you more about the holiday of Chuseok in my next post.

Now for this post....

Sports capture the very essence of what means is to be human. We thrive on the heart-pounding excitement of competition. Players and fans endure the emotional roller coaster through the elation of victory and the soul-crushing devastation of defeat. We love the narrative that sports provide: the comebacks, the vilified odds-on-favorites, the blue collar underdogs, the idea that if you just work hard enough you can succeed at anything. I have witnessed many great moments in sports history: I lived through the Jordan Era in the NBA, watched homeruns turn players to heroes only to have performance enhancing drugs turn them into villains a few short years later, watched the Patriots go from everyone's favorite underdog in 2002 to losing their perfect season in the Super Bowl in 2008. I saw my favorite hockey team end a 42 year Stanley Cup drought in 1997, and watched the Wolverines knock off #1 Ohio State in 1996 and go on to win a National Championship the following year. And now I submit another chapter to the great moments in sports history: The 2010 GDA Junior Chuseok Ssireum Wrestling Tournament.

As with every other great sports story, there is a back story that allows one to fully appreciate the events they witness. I will being with the back story. Ssireum Wrestling is the Korean equivalent of sumo. The two competitors grasp each other by the waist belt and try to use their strength and leg maneuvering to topple their opponent to the ground. Victory is achieved when any part of your opponent above his knee hits the ground. The other part of the back story is that Koreans are crazy competitive. In America everyone gets a trophy; in Korea we have spelling bee champions, running champions, and wrestling champions...in kindergarten. My kids argue over who gets to pass out the most books, so you can imagine what it's like when the competition is official.

I was teaching one day in my support class (Dream) when Jack excitedly exclaimed that he was the class wrestling champion. Jack regularly informs me of his accomplishments in gym class (or in anything else for that matter), so at the time I responded "Wow! Good job, Jack," and continued teaching my lesson. Jack reminded me of his status as class champion the next day, and the next. Maybe this was more important than a simple game to kill time in gym class. Then, during my gym break (I get three gym breaks every two weeks where the gym teacher teaches my kids) I walked by the gym to see my homeroom kids (Excellence) wrestling. My cute little kindergartners with their jaws clenched, locked in opposition. It was hilarious. I could not stop watching. When I was in kindergarten, we played with giant colorful parachutes in gym; in Korea, they fight to the death. I asked the director what all the wrestling was about, and she explained that the school was going to have a tournament during the Chuseok celebration. Each class would send its top two wrestlers to the tournament to compete for intraschool dominance.

Quarter Finals

The day of the tournament, the wipe board in the gym had two NCAA-style March Madness brackets drawn up, one for the five and six year olds (in Korea when you're born you're 1, then on New Year's Day everyone turns a year older, so the five and six year olds are anywhere from three to five) and one for the seven year olds. From my homeroom class Eena and Rodin made it in to the tournament, and from my support class Jack and Tristen were through. Eena was a bit of a surprise; she loves all things pink and beautiful, but she can be feisty when she needs to be. Given that this was a kindergarten competition just for fun, I did nothing to over-hype the event or get my kids riled up. I was a detached observer with no clear bias toward the kids in my classes.

The AWWWWWW was because I thought Eena hit first, but she didn't, and she advanced to the semifinal. In fact, all four kids from my homeroom class (Excellence) and my support class (Dream) advanced. Both semifinals consisted of entirely kids that I taught.

Semifinals

I felt like a mother does when her son competes against a nephew. You want both to do well, but clearly you want your own child to win. In this semifinal, Rodin does just that.

Rodin's tactics feature using upper body strength to overpower his opponents. This worked well against the long and lanky Tristen, who had a high center of gravity. In the other semi-final, Jack took care of Eena with ease, setting up a Dream v. Excellence final for the ages.

The Championship

The excitement began to mount as the clear-cut top two performers entered the ring. Rodin against Jack. Both students of mine. Both had clearly learned from their teacher, and now sought to make a name for themselves in sporting history.

After a hard fought 23 second battle, the official blew the whistle. I couldn't figure out what had happened. It didn't appear that either wrestler had emerged victorious to me...and then I noticed the blood oozing out of Jack's nose. The match had to be stopped. The injured wrestler was removed from the ring and bandaged up. Would Jack be able to return from injury and challenge for the crown, or would Rodin win on a technicality? In the meantime, the five and six year old final took place while Jack was being tended to, and the whole arena (okay, gym) waited with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Jack was in tears, agonizing over the thought that injuries might prevent him from claiming what he believed to be his. I wanted Rodin (from my homeroom) to win, but not like this. GDA needed to have a true wrestling champion, and it had to be decided in the ring. Following the crowning of the five and six year old champion, Jack wiped away his tears and prepared to do battle once more. He was a tenacious foe for Rodin. One to be respected, admired.

Rodin's best asset as a wrestler is his strength to weight ratio. He may be skinny, but he is extremely strong as he demonstrated against Tristen, pinning him to the ground with sheer brute force. Jack would prove a trickier opponent. Jack is dense and short, with a lower center of gravity. On top of that, Jack has mastered the footwork and the ability to hook is opponent with his leg, then go for the kill.

That move proved to be Rodin's downfall. After avoiding several of Jack's early attempts, Rodin was finally hooked and taken down. It was a bittersweet moment for me, as I had strong connections to both athletes. My horse lost the race, but Jack clearly deserved the win. He battled back against all odds, through trials and tribulations.

It was now time for the presentation of the medals:

Clearly Jack was still writhing in pain, as he was unable to muster a smile for the championship photo. This demonstrates how truly Herculean his victory was. Rodin and Tristen tried to be content with second and third places, but the pain for them was emotional. Jack was excited about his victory, he was just too exhausted to show it that day. I know this because following the tournament, Jack reminded everyone in his class that he was the wrestling champion. When we learned about adjectives that compare, Jack informed the class that he was strongest because he was the wrestling champion.