Practice

Years ago I used to wrestle. You know, the real wrestling on a mat where you starve yourself for days so that you can go up against someone equally as small as you in a battle to see who's the toughest... at 141 pounds. I mention this because in my 10 years of wrestling I probably attended close to 1500 wrestling practices. That's right, about 3000 hours of wrestling PRACTICE. 125 full DAYS of my life PRACTICING for a sport that while I excelled at in high school, never took me to any accolade worth mentioning. (Scholarships to Franklin & Marshall & Drexel do not count - Blue from Old School could've started at their schools.)

I've begun to think about wrestling practice because after my best friend Johnny asked for a run down of my date Friday night I mentioned that it was kind of like going to wrestling practice. Approaching the bar (gym) I knew what was about to ensue. Two hours, or in this case because of an inordinate amount of appetizers, four more hours of PRACTICE. Once you settle into your bar positions and give a few warm-up laps you sadly realize you are going through the motions that you have gone through for 10 years of dates all in anticipation of a the big match with someone else. But you have to continue with practice. Coach aint blowing that whistle for at least two more hours. 99 percent of your dates in life are practice for that big final match at some point in life. For some people in life that match sadly never comes or you become so impatient that you label the wrong person as your big match and then you become like Kevin Spacey in American Beauty or, more realistically, Al Bundy. At this point you are probably assuming that the date went bad. Not so.

We had good conversation for almost four hours.  We had a good span of topics from the idea of destiny vs. choice in Slumdog Millionaire, my current favorite movie, to her actual lilliputian like height. (Upon first meeting she didn't actually walk up to me at the bar, in so much as jump up like a kid trying to catch a balloon that flew away. Keep in mind I stand a towering 5-10.) 

One interesting conversation was on wine etiquette, of which I could write five boring paragraphs on how much this bothers me. Now I know some of you are wine afficianados, but I have always thought wine to be the drink of a higher class. It's just an old and admittedly false thought I have from a decidedly lower middle class upbringing, but it's there. I can enjoy a glass of wine but I cannot talk about it in terms that I would normally reserve to describe a sexual experience. I realize this is a serious hobby for some people but it just makes me giggle. (It just occurred to me that I talk about fantasy sports as if it were a viable second income so perhaps I have no room to bitch)

Peaches was especially astute to these descriptions and thought it would be fun if I could describe four different wines in terms like 'sparkling vs. robust' and 'deep bodied vs. shallow' and my favorite, 'oak-filled vs. floral-crisp.' I thought it would be fun if we ranked the amount of alcohol she was ordering as "acceptable vs. youbestbepayin for that" She even ordered four appetizers of various mushrooms, cheeses and hold onto your taste buds - raisin bread! I actually shouldn't make fun of raisin bread. On the hierarchy of breads it is only one spot below the king of all breads - cornbread. The appetizers were tasty, but here's a good time to mention she had only 7 dollars on her at a cash only bar that she herself recommended. Oh to have the mindset of a woman for just one day! I had to leave the date briefly to go the nearest Korean store and get some cash.

Again, the date wasn't bad. In fact it was rather good, and judging from her mandatory post date texts she had a good time as well. I especially liked how she mentioned she was 'surprised by me.' That is basically a judgement on my place of residence. I'm telling you, no one likes to date someone from the Jersey Shore - it's like admitting you have a case of non active herp on a first date. That's why I go to NY and Philly.

Despite the good time and the refreshing feeling of dating someone with one foot "in the clouds and one in the cubicle," I know this was just practice. I may try one more date to be sure, but we all know you can't fabricate chemistry, or that special feeling where you want to take her back to your place to recreate that scene from Fatal Attraction (it's a joke).

I can only hope that all this practice is for a reason. I hope when the big match comes I'm fully prepared.  In my final collegiate wrestling match I eked out a come from behind 4-3 win in front of my family and my girlfriend. It was one of only a handful of matches I won in college but it was definitely the most rewarding. It put everything in its place so to speak.  It justified years. I walked off the mat with no regrets, and thankful for everything wrestling brought me - even the practices. Maybe things will turn out like this in my love life- minus the sweaty guy I was laying on top of in spandex during the final seconds.