He was the lowest seed in the championships, and his first match was against the number 1 seed. It showed. Painfully. All I can say is at least Spencer was gracious enough to bow and allow the instantaneous cradle at the start. :-) Total match length: 12 seconds.
"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly; who errs and comes short again and again; because there is not effort without error and shortcomings; but who does actually strive to do the deed; who knows the great enthusiasm, the great devotion, who spends himself in a worthy cause, who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement and who at the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly. So that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat."
Afterward, we headed back to the west in a dust- and sandstorm. I cringed at every gust of sand pelting my car. I had briefly toyed with the idea of going to Sand Mountain for a quick look-see, but the winds and blowing sand nixed it. Maybe another day - a calmer day - I'll head out there and poke around. Rumor has a stash of cash in a cave in the vicinity. Maybe I'll create a new sport: treasure hunt running. That's where you run from unlikely place to unlikely place looking for treasure that isn't there, racking up the miles. Yay!
I am very proud of Spencer and his accomplishment. He went from never having wrestled to finishing 8th in the regionals in only six weeks. Pretty scrappy, mi hijo!
Watching my son finish 8th: Priceless.