Friday, November 23rd, 2001

Sean went to one of the wrestling squad’s “lock-downs” tonight. The team goes off to the high school cafeteria and watches movies, eats pizza and, for all I know, wrestles all night. The coach is pretty intense that way. They did one of these lock-downs just a few weeks after we got here; the coach showed up with about a half-dozen of the boys and they dragged Sean, sleeping, out of bed and off into the rainy night. The head coach for the wrestling team is a woman, by the way. That still seems unusual enough to me to warrant comment, even though this woman is crazy serious about wrestling. She must work out every minute she can, because she’s got muscles in places I don’t have places. And she’s every inch a coach, absolutely ruthless about maintaining discipline and making the boys work until they drop. Practice begins at four, and Sean doesn’t get home until after seven, wrung out like an old dish rag. He’s talked a couple times about quitting, but he keeps pressing on.

lock-down | 9:44 am CDT
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