They were the ones we wrestled with. They didn't have uniforms. Our team mates wore sweat pants and tee -shirts. They wrestled before us, before the match began.
This was our final match. The end of the season. All of us focused on one wrestler, a wrestler without a uniform. His match began and we began to shout words of encouragement.
Our wrestler was on his back, straining, resisting the final slap on the mat. A sound he had heard several times before. A team chorus shouted "role over" and he did.
Our wrestler pinned his man. The team was ecstatic, frenzied, buzzed on honey.
Something was uncorked that day, perhaps the bubbling potential of Craig Bartlett.