When I walked into my high school gym and signed up for wrestling, I had no idea what I was getting myself into. As a kid, I’d spent Saturday nights glued to the TV, watching the Von Erichs dominate the ring with their iconic Iron Claw on World Class Championship Wrestling. So, when wrestling showed up as an elective in high school, I didn’t hesitate.
My dad raised an eyebrow and said, “You know this is real wrestling, not that BS you watch on TV, right?” I laughed it off, but deep down, I wasn’t entirely sure what I’d signed up for.
I had never seen a real wrestling match, never set foot on a wrestling mat, and had absolutely no idea what to expect. All I’d seen was the Von Erichs crushing their enemies, standing victorious in a cloud of sweat and glory. But as soon as practice started under Coach Larry Karl, I realized I was in for something very, very different.
A Coach Like No Other
Coach Larry Karl was a tough, no-nonsense leader. A Vietnam vet, a history teacher, and a wrestling coach who carried himself with authority, he was the kind of man who didn’t need to yell to command respect. But when he did raise his voice, you listened.
He started teaching and coaching wrestling at Skyline High School in 1972 and dedicated 43 years of his life to building not just wrestlers, but men of character. His commitment didn’t go unnoticed—in 2008, Coach Karl was inducted into the Wrestling Hall of Fame with a Lifetime Achievement Award.
But Coach Karl wasn’t just about awards or accolades. He wasn’t just teaching us wrestling moves—he was building young men. He took a group of kids from all walks of life and molded us into a team, a family. In that gym, we sweat together, we struggled together, and we celebrated together.
I made friendships on that team that have lasted a lifetime. There’s something about the shared suffering of wrestling practice—the exhaustion, the sweat-soaked mats, the endless drills—that bonds people in a way few other experiences can.
The Grind and the Perspective
Wrestling isn’t like other sports. There’s no hiding on the mat. It’s you against your opponent—man versus man—trying to impose your will and skill on someone who’s trying to do the exact same thing to you.
Coach Karl would remind us of this constantly. He’d say, “In other sports, you’ve got teammates out there with you. In wrestling, it’s just you and one other guy. No one else can help you.”
But he also taught us something deeper. While wrestling is fought one-on-one, success isn’t an individual achievement—it’s a team effort. Every time we stepped onto that mat, we carried our team with us. The sweat, the drills, the encouragement, the shared suffering—it was all part of every victory and every defeat.
Lessons from Vietnam
The grind of wrestling practice was relentless. Endless conditioning, intense sparring, and a constant push to our physical and mental limits. And just when we thought we couldn’t go any further, Coach Karl would pause, lean on the ropes, and share a story from his time in Vietnam.
In those moments, the room would go silent. He’d talk about the realities of war—the fear, the exhaustion, the survival. And suddenly, whatever suffering we were going through on the mat felt insignificant.
Those stories weren’t just war stories—they were lessons. Lessons about perspective, resilience, and how far we could push ourselves when we thought we had nothing left to give.
More Than a Sport
Wrestling isn’t just a sport—it’s one of the oldest martial arts in the world. A lot of people don’t think of it that way, but it absolutely is. And it’s one of the best martial arts because you can pressure-test it every single day. Every practice, every match, every takedown is a live test of your skill, strength, and mindset.
Coach Karl made sure we understood that. Wrestling wasn’t just about pinning your opponent—it was about discipline, accountability, and heart.
And in that gym, under his watchful eye, we didn’t just learn how to wrestle—we learned how to face challenges head-on, how to take ownership of our failures, and how to celebrate our victories with humility.
A Lasting Impact
Looking back, I’m grateful for Coach Larry Karl. He wasn’t just a wrestling coach—he was a mentor, a leader, and a role model. He took a ragtag group of high school kids and turned us into men.
The lessons I learned on that mat under Coach Karl’s guidance have stayed with me long after I left high school. The grit, the perseverance, and the understanding that even when you’re out there alone, you’re never truly alone—because there’s always a team behind you.
That’s what wrestling taught me. And that’s what Coach Larry Karl instilled in all of us.
Final Thoughts
Wrestling isn’t glamorous. There’s no cheering crowd when you’re running sprints until your legs give out, no highlight reel for the hours spent drilling takedowns. But it’s real. It’s raw. And it shapes you in ways few other things can.
Coach Larry Karl knew that. He lived it, he taught it, and he passed it down to all of us lucky enough to be under his leadership.
In 2008, when he was inducted into the Wrestling Hall of Fame with a Lifetime Achievement Award, it wasn’t just for his wins or championships—it was for the lives he shaped, the young men he mentored, and the legacy he left behind.
To this day, I’m grateful for the lessons I learned in that gym. I’m grateful for the bonds formed on those mats. And most of all, I’m grateful for Coach Larry Karl—the tough, no-nonsense Vietnam vet who taught us how to wrestle, how to work, and how to carry ourselves like men.