For coaches, the long game offers the greatest rewards

Photo: Dan Harding (left) transitioned from youth to high school coaching, which meant he had the opportunity to coach one student-athlete from third grade on.

By Dan Harding

I trudge along a dew-soaked trail in the quiet woods near my house. My dog’s tail wags like a windshield wiper as she enjoys attention and fresh air during the daylight hours that, for the past four months, had been filled with wrestling. For me, it always takes some time to decompress, come down, and process the chaotic ups and downs at the conclusion of a season.

As I reflect on the season, my thoughts often return to one of my graduating seniors named Matthew, whom I coached since he began the sport in third grade. Quiet and polite, he was eager to learn and work hard, but his beginning was humble, as was most of his youth career. His trophy case from those days was filled with bronze medals and very few golds, cementing his position as a good “middle-of-the-pack” wrestler. Towards the end of his seventh-grade year (his last in our youth program due to COVID the following year), he started to turn a corner and show glimmers of a promising high school career to come. I thought he would do well in high school, but I had no idea at the time that our paths would converge and continue beyond youth wrestling.

During the pandemic, my company shifted to remote work, and my boss allowed me to pursue a dream of mine by adjusting my hours so I could coach high school wrestling in the winter. Young Matthew was one of the few athletes who lived in a town outside of Berlin, Connecticut where our youth program was based; we would both be joining the neighboring wrestling program of Portland. I think we both shared an excited and nervous feeling as we made that transition; I know it was nice to have a familiar face in the crowd. Luckily, the program was welcoming to new athletes and coaches alike, and we quickly fell into a groove with this new program.

I’m sure our five-year history together influenced my thinking, but with each week that passed, I could see his potential as a wrestler grow. His strength, technique, and maturity climbed at a slow and steady pace. I could see that if he fully committed to this sport, he could become a champion at the highest level.

Fast forward to his junior year — he fully bought in and trained year-round with true passion. When the dust settled on his senior season, he had cemented himself as the most accomplished wrestler in our program’s history.

The memories made between those first practices, where we barely knew anyone, and his final state tournament could fill this magazine, but I’ll surmise them with this: as is so often the case in wrestling, there were incredible highs (upsetting a longtime rival, winning his first and second class titles, etc.) and deep lows (injuries, shortcomings, and missed goals). For as many tournaments as he enjoyed immense success, there were an equal number of matches or events where he fell short, especially during his junior year.

By the end of his nearly undefeated senior season, however, he had earned a state-wide reputation for being a hard-nosed wrestler with a relentless style of attack. This earned him fans ranging from refs and parents to opposing coaches and competitors. At the end-of-year tournaments, it was not uncommon for him to have three or four of his club and offseason coaches elbowing for a spot mat side. I felt thankful to have a permanent seat in his corner.

As vivid as so many of those mat-side memories are, it’s the competition-adjacent memories that I think will stick with me the most. Whether it was taking my athletes to a camp in Pennsylvania, epic Catch Phrase competitions at team parties, or the pre-practice handball games, these moments will remain. Then there was the wrestling match and gender reveal he took part in, which indicated that my second child would be a boy — a memory that still gets my heart racing.

Beyond all those moments — the high-fives, tears, laughs, and lessons— I feel extremely lucky. It’s not unheard of, but it is exceptionally rare to coach an athlete from a youth wrestler with no experience to the state and national championships. Having a front-row seat and a small hand in helping a young person grow and develop in our sport — and in life — is among the most rewarding things you can ever do; I know parents can relate to that.

Next season will bring new firsts for us. For him, he’ll be acclimating to life as a college student and wrestler, and for the first time in 10 years, I’ll walk into the wrestling room, and he won’t be there. Perhaps that’s the biggest lesson that coaches, athletes, and parents all need to remember. When you’re in it, the days (especially at tournaments) are long, the years go fast, and every journey comes to an end. But it’s the memories made in the pursuit of a dream that stay with you forever.