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Pain part of game if you are a wrestler Commentary By Don Hunt At a high school wrestling tournament in Central Point last week, Robert Dyer of Sprague High inadvertently slammed his head into the face of South Medford's Ian Taylor. The collision gave Taylor a mild concussion and a nasty gash below his left eye that would require seven stitches. To the average person, such an injury would have sent him to the emergency room of the nearest hospital. Let's get this nasty thing stitched up, ingest a couple of extra-strength Tylenols and head for bed. But Taylor isn't the average guy. He's a wrestler. Just because you're spurting enough blood to supply the nearest branch of the American Red Cross with O positive for the next month is no reason to stop competing. And Taylor, true to his breed, didn't. A trainer wrapped what seemed to be 200 feet of athletic tape around his head to stop the flow of blood and Taylor -- with his left eye taped completely shut -- kept going. Taylor eventually lost in sudden-death overtime, and one could only imagine what pain he went through when that roll of tape was ripped from his full head of hair. But like any wrestler worth his singlet, Taylor thought nothing of the injury nor the impending discomfort that would come from removing all that white sticky. "That's the mentality you have to have," South Medford coach Ken Wharry said with a shrug. "You tape it up and go." If anyone has any doubt that wrestling is the toughest, most grueling, most demanding sport in high school athletics, then visit a mat near you. It's one-on-one combat for three two-minute rounds. It's you, yourself and I against the other guy. There are no teammates to lean on, no one to blame for your mistakes. One false move and you can find yourself twisted into a human pretzel. Add to that the tension of performing in front of peers, parents and fans and you wonder why anyone in their right mind would want to climb into such a pressure-cooker. I've never been a wrestler and have no intention of becoming one. But after covering the sport for several years I feel as though I'm beginning to understand the psychological makeup of these fellows. Here are a few observations: Wrestlers don't recognize pain. It's not that they enjoy pain, like your neighborhood masochist, but they sure as heck don't run from it, either. "If people saw what goes on in the wrestling room, they'd cringe," Wharry said. "It's second nature to wrestlers to walk out of practice with blood all over their shirts." One of Wharry's grapplers -- Jason Kruggel -- tore a ligament in his knee last season but never saw a doctor until after the state tournament. Visit the doc and your season could end the next day. Kruggel finished second at district and competed at state, then had surgery. Wrestlers don't eat. They nibble a little something here and there, and some cut weight sensibly. But more than a few will cut six, eight, sometimes 10 pounds pounds between the time they finish wrestling at a weekend tournament and their next action the following Thursday. They must step on a scale before each match, and most wrestlers compete in a weight class less than they actually weigh. In other words, a youngster wrestling at 160 may weigh 159 when he gets on the scale before his next match, but one day later he'll balloon to 168. It's the nature of the beast. If you don't cut weight then there's a good chance you won't win as much or, for that matter, even make the lineup. Les Gutches, the world-ranked wrestler and former Olympian from Medford, has said that cutting weight is harder on him than his toughest workout. Eating soup, rice and Jello for dinner gets old. Wrestlers are a tight fraternity. They may try to rip each other's heads off on the mat, but off it they seem to befriend one another more than other athletes. Crater's Shane Webster and Tanner Hillyer got into a brawl earlier this season in practice. The slaps and cuffs to the head that are standard practice between grapplers suddenly became punches and stabs. But they walked out of the gym that night with no hard feelings, and later talked about the incident with fondness. "It was fun," Tanner said. While wrestling may be overly brutal for most athletes, those who enter its rigerous world don't regret having done so. The way a wrestler sees it, if you can overcome bloody noses, black eyes and butterless rice, you can certainly conquer whatever setback comes your way in the future. Today's Edition : News | Sports | Business | Weather | Tempo | Classifieds Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 2000, Medford, Oregon USA