By JoHannah G. Newman
On Monday February ninth the OCHS Wrestling team faced Seneca in their first playoff match of the season. I am not a sports person. I go to football games to spend time with the marching band. I’ll catch the beginning of a basketball game to watch a fellow choir member sing the national anthem. So upon entering the main gym on Monday night I felt like a fish out of water, desperate to swim next door into the auditorium. But when my friend had discovered that my rehearsal had been cancelled he coaxed me out of my stage lit sanctuary to root on his wrestling team.
The experience was fascinating. The gym was packed with fans clad in Seneca green and OC red, like Christmas in February. I felt momentarily lost. The crowd was overwhelming; adrenaline pumping from fans and athletes alike. Our team was warming up on the mats, strutting through their exercises in a formidable display against the on looking visiting team. But where did I belong? I nearly sat on the visiting side before I realized I was enveloped in green sweatshirts.
As the match began, I found my friend on the opposite end of the gym and found a place to anchor. He quickly explained his six years of wrestling experience and knowledge in about five minutes, leaving my head spinning. I had never realized the depth and statistics that went into a single match. A coin was flipped, signifying some sort of advantage to Seneca, who had won the flip.