Now unlike my first two tales this ones not about violence, just utter jackassery. Middle school was a weird time. As a 7th grader I was freed from two over bearing powers: The Nuns and all the other oppression of Catholic School and my Dad being my coach. I transferred to Paxon Hollow Middle School as a 7th grader and frankly had too much fun. So much fun I was back in Catholic School for 8th grade. Man though, I fucking lived that year. Football was my best sport so I took that shit show(0-10) seriously leaving Middle School wrestling as the place where I socially thrived the most. Middle School is the first time the team aspect of wrestling is ever associated with the sport. It’s also the place where even if you were a middle of the road wrestler like me, you win at a .750 clip because most middle schoolers have never wrestled before. In great wrestling fashion our coaches decided to have us come out to warmups in our own ways. Most of us slammed the locker room door open, some did cartwheels, me; Yeah I took my fingers and made myself a mask:
Yeah that’s not me but that’s what a young Charlie Alexander thought was the most intimidating thing he could do. Weirdly enough this worked in two ways.
1. It got me amped up for my matches, something I always struggled with.
2. It got my team so amped up because they loved it. The parents, outside my own and my coaches, loved it too.
Teachers would come up and ask me if the masked man would be making an appearance. In my great showmanship I would tell them and the kids who now wondered what the hell they were talking about that they’d have to come to our next meet to see. They actually came. With all this attention I started to do it while running into the mat. Just an asshole 12 year old in a singlet running to the table and to the center circle with a finger mask on. This had one way of backfiring Referees, the other wrestlers and my dad would all get really pissed off. Refs wouldn’t give calls my way and the other kids always came at me more aggressively because they felt I was showing them up. My dad: I’d get reamed out on the way home for acting like a jackass. Definitely pissed off a few opposing coaches too. All in all: it was good old fashioned middle school fun. Sports are supposed to be fun. You’re supposed to create alter egos who are the superhero version to your Clark Kent. Hell, when I got to high school I called myself Pac-Man but that’s a tale for another day……