By Kyle Klingman, W.I.N. Columnist

It all started on Friday, June 13, at the Olympic Trials in Las Vegas. That was when I looked to my right and saw a Greco-Roman coach burying his head in his hands on press row. That one look sparked a heated debate that lasted throughout the entire weekend.

            “You don’t like that?” I asked the coach.

            “Man, if that was my last match and I lost earlier in the day, I would be running off the mat and hiding,” he responded.

            What we were both referring to is wrestling’s latest trend: taking your wrestling shoes off at the conclusion of a match, placing them in the center of the mat and walking away. This act, symbolically, means that you are retiring from the sport of wrestling.

            The next day I opted to sit at the end of the arena instead of on press row. And then it happened again. Another Greco-Roman wrestler — someone I had never heard of — took his shoes off and placed them in the center of the mat, too.

            That’s when another coach (who, as they say, shall remain nameless) in my general vicinity said this: “You’re retiring? I didn’t even know you were competing.”

            A few minutes later, he turned to me and said: “Hey, you ought to write your next column about this. I don’t get why wrestlers think they need to take their shoes off to show they are retiring. It’s ridiculous.”

            I resisted at first. There was no way I could write that column. I would get blasted for doing something like that. Fortunately, Chuck Yagla — a two-time NCAA champion and a 1980 Olympian who is now one of my all-time favorite people — was sitting behind me during the exchange. I knew I could turn to him for some insight and advice.

            “Did you guys do that back when you were competing?” I asked.

            “We never did that kind of thing,” said Yagla. “It never crossed my mind. It was probably because we never planned on retiring.”

            So within the next 15 minutes, I talked myself into it: I was going to write about a pair of wrestling shoes left in the middle of a mat.

            I immediately walked down to the press area to seek out Mike Finn, the editor of W.I.N. I was excited to tell him about my latest column idea.

            As I made my way to the floor my feelings on the matter were this: Only the best of the best should be taking his or her shoes off in the center of the mat. The standard for that type of an exit is excellence.

            World champion Melvin Douglas? Yes. World and Olympic champion Rulon Gardner? No doubt about it. Three-time World and Olympic champion Kevin Jackson? Do you think I’m going to tell him not to? Placing sixth at the Olympic Trials? Questionable.

            The point here is where do you draw the line? Doesn’t it take away from the meaning of a gesture if everyone does it?

            It’s like a standing ovation. If a speaker gets a standing ovation for everything he says (watch the State of the Union address and you’ll see what I mean) then a standing ovation doesn’t mean all that much. It becomes expected rather than special.

            As I approached Mike to give him my thoughts I was met with some resistance, not to my column idea, but with my take on the matter.

            “I disagree,” said Mike. “If you’re out there competing and training hard every day, then you get to decide what you want to do. Wrestlers can retire however they want.

            “What matters is how we react. Let the crowd decide how important a wrestler is when he takes off his shoes. If he’s accomplished a lot, then we can acknowledge it with more applause. If they haven’t had a distinguished career then we don’t have to acknowledge it at all.”

            Naturally, I had my comebacks.

            “So does that mean when I retire from writing for W.I.N. that I should take my notepad, pen, and tape recorder and place them on the center of the mat,” I fired back. “Everyone would be asking: Who in the world is that guy and who does he think he is?” (Note: I am assuming the traditional way for a journalist to retire is by writing his last column but I’m not sure.)

            As much as it I hated to admit it, Mike had a point. They trained hard. They labored in obscurity. They put in unthinkable hours of intense training. Who am I to say how a wrestler should retire?

            Just because I prefer the Tom Brands’ approach (he was out mowing his lawn the day after he won his Olympic gold medal in 1996), doesn’t mean a wrestler can’t place his shoes on the mat when he retires. What matters is how I respond to the gesture. If I deem it important I will applaud. If not, I can sit silently and wait until it’s over. The only thing each of us can control is our response.

            However, just because each wrestler has the right, doesn’t necessarily make it right. There is a difference.

            Throughout the day a spirited conversation ensued between the W.I.N. staff. That’s why we too all found it humorous when Brandon Slay — a gold medal winner at the 2000 Olympics — engaged us in a conversation about this topic.

            “Have you guys noticed that it’s mostly Greco-Roman guys who place their shoes on the mat to show that they are retiring?” asked Slay. “Freestyle guys hardly ever do that.”

            After a 30-minute discussion with Slay, we came to this conclusion: Greco-Roman wrestlers and freestyle wrestlers are uniquely different. Freestylers, because of their individualistic nature and their success at the college level, rarely think about placing their shoes on the mat.

            Greco-Roman wrestlers, who in our opinion are a closer group right now, were probably influenced by Rulon Gardner placing his shoes on the mat after winning his bronze-medal match in the 2004 Olympics. It also stems from Greco wrestlers truly believing they are done competing.

            “Here’s the deal, and I say this respectfully. I think most of those guys that are retiring today because they thought about retiring today. That’s why it came to fruition,” said Slay. “But the guys who came here today and said, ‘That’s not even an option, I’m not going to let that thought enter my mind,’ that’s why they didn’t put their shoes on the mat.

            “When you become more individualistic you become (pause to think), let’s just say more into yourself. (Retiring like that) was never important to me.”

            Once that conversation was over, I found my way back to the section where Yagla was sitting with his family. Yagla was to be honored later that night for being part of the 1980 Olympic team that did not get to compete due to the United States’ boycott.

            After half an hour, Chuck had to find the staging area. As we were walking down the hallway, it hit me: Chuck has never officially retired from wrestling. His last competition was the Pan American trials in June of 1983, but he never made an official statement of retirement.

            “Hey, you should take your shoes off to let everyone know you are retiring,” I told Yagla. “That would be so awesome and hilarious if you did that. I’ll give you $100 if you do it.”

            “I’ll think about it,” Yagla said. “I just might do it.”

            I spent a solid five minutes trying to get Chuck fired up to take the challenge. As I left I had no idea what he would do. Could this really be the night that Chuck Yagla finally walks away from wrestling as a competitor?

            So as the ceremony for the 1980 Olympic team came to a conclusion, I felt a sense of pride when Chuck Yagla looked over at me, mouthed the words “Should I do it,” slipped his shoes off in the center of the mat and walked away from his career as a competitive wrestler.

            The crowd responded favorably and I spent the next five minutes laughing … out of my shoes. I guess everyone eventually does it.

            (Kyle Klingman is the associate director of the Dan Gable International Wrestling Institute and Museum, located in Waterloo, Iowa. He can be reached via email, kyle.klingman@yahoo.com.)