Apex Wrestler Opens Eyes

We get pretty wrapped up in winning. Winning seems to be everything. Losing, well, I've told you in the past what I think about losing.

When we go to sporting events, we pull for our team to win. Usually our personal emotions are focused on who we are pulling for. We love to watch the celebrations for those we root for, and we turn away from those who vanquish our heroes.

Last year when we won the baseball State Championship, I seriously doubt that any of the East Rowan parents were watching our wild dog pile celebration out on the field. More likely, they were trying to swim through their own emotional let down to figure out how to console their own sons. Conversely, there were probably few Gryphon supporters who noticed the tears in the other dugout, either.

It's very seldom about the other team, or the other athlete. Only your own.

Every so often there is some sort of magical moment on the field, in the pool, on the track, or in this case, on the mat, when someone other than our own captures and holds our attention. When we just watch in awe of someone we are supposed to be rooting against at all cost.

Tyler Forythe is just that kind of athlete.

Tyler is not an intimidating individual. He weights all of 112 pounds. He attends Apex High School as a sophomore and is a member of the school's wrestling team. His coach said he has been wrestling for 3 years now and he has probably lost as many matches as he has won over that time.

Tyler Forythe is visually impaired.

He was led through the Edenton Holmes gymnasium by a coach or another team member wherever he went. And he went everywhere. To the scorer's table. To the mat. To his competition. To the opposing coach after his matches. Back through the crowd. Back up the bleachers. Again and again. All day.

After shaking hands with an opponent he could not see, he was on his own.

Nobody to follow.

And Tyler Forythe won. And won. And won.

They have rules that opponents must follow when wrestling against Tyler and others like him (if there are any.) The rule is, you have to stay in contact with him. Just a hand on him somewhere.

That's it. Not much of a special rule in a competition where contact is almost non-stop anyway. Just stay in contact with him because he can't see you.

Everyone in attendance on Saturday saw Tyler, even though he could not see them. He could not see them watching him wrestle. He could not see how they were impressed by that wrestling. He could not see how amazed they were at how quick and nimble his steps were going up to his perch at the top of the bleachers. He couldn't see how almost everyone was rooting for him.

Even though he was not one of their own.

Tyler's last match of the day was against Rocky Mount's Ahmir Scott. Both were undefeated on the day, at 3-0, so that match was for first place & everyone knew it.

My dad said he was pulling for Ahmir to win. He also said that it would be amazing if Tyler would win. That's the magic Tyler has. You root for him even when you're not supposed to. You feel good when he wins.

Even if he's not one of your own.

Ahmir was victorious on the mat. He pinned Tyler to take first place.

I'm sure that Tyler, being an athlete, was disappointed finishing second. And I'm sure that this is where I'm supposed to say he was really the winner just for doing what he does. And he was. He is. But the real winners where the ones who had the opportunity to watch this individual do things we, as normal people, cannot comprehend.

Even if he's not one of our own.