One of the externalities of coaching is that my dozens game has gone back to being absolutely insane. Because I’ve spent most of my time working with adults, I had fallen off a little bit. Coaching is a little more informal than the classroom, though, so at first, certain things used to slip out. Like the one kid I accidentally nicknamed “Porno” because every time he hit the mat, he used to make this whiny groan. That was one instance when I regretted it as soon as I’d said it, but nicknames like that have tremendous sticking power. I don’t call him that any more, and I try not to let anybody else call him that, although that gets to be challenging.
For the most part, I try to stick to things the kids can control. With Porno, for instance, the reason I felt bad about joning on him that way was because he’s essentially a nerd trying to become an athlete. He’s never competed in any sport in his life — probably didn’t even go hard in gym class, so I really don’t want to rag on him about wrestling. Actually, in cases like his, I don’t jone much, period. However, when I do, I try to keep it to something that’s almost entirely in the student’s control: the hair. “It’s time for a shape-up” jokes are hard to beat. Oh. And there’s a clutch of Ethiopian boys who jumped out the cake and started rocking jheri curls. JHERI CURLS!! I HAD to get ‘em. One of ‘em actually got the nerve to have that little corkscrew curl in the front of his face. I couldn’t even cap on him. I just laughed out loud.
Course, the good thing about going on the hair line is that they have the chance to get back at me. My hairline isn’t in a full recession, but when I cut my shape-up, I hafta push it back a little bit. They notice it, too. The last time I cut all my hair off was when I had made a mistake on my part. I could’ve battled it out, but that would’ve been giving up far too much ammunition.
One thing I’ve noticed, though, is that a lotta times, when the kids jone, it’s stuff that doesn’t actually make any sense. For me, the joke can only work if there’s some grain of truth that makes it make sense. They’ll jump out with some, “He look like [insert random cartoon character.]” and then look at me like I’m crazy when I don’t laugh. (They know that I don’t watch television, so they already think I’m a little crazy, as it is.) That’s when I tell em, that’s not a good joke because it’s not specific to the person. Which is when I hafta model what bustin’ looks like for them.
And the first tournament I ever wrestled in turned 23. I went 1-2 and did not place.
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