Wrestlers: Brawny Artists on the Mat

"You have to bring yourself to the level of slime in the squared circle." --Guy Mental, all-star professional wrestler

Bloody vision of flying knee-drops, wrenching headlocks and deadly trapeze rope slams are bound to cross your mind when you first think... of wrestling.

Or maybe you imagine the notorious antics of arch villains like Gorgeous George, the Amazing Gunga and Killer Kowalski. Hey, you've been watching too much late night t.v., and you've got wrestling all wrong.

While it may not have the curious fan appeal of professional grappling, college wrestling is a true art form. In contrast to the vicious heart punches and paralyzing spinal stings of all-star smash-ups, the real collegiate sport requires brains, brawn, balance and speed.

"Pro wrestling is histrionics, and one has to question the mentality of its fans," says Crimson Coach Johnny Lee. "In college wrestling, fluidity and flow are crucial; wrestling is definitely a higher art form."

Art is indeed what Michael B. Poliakoff thinks of when someone mentions wrestling. An assistant professor of Greek and Latin at Wellesley College, Poliakoff dubs himself the "world expert of ancient wrestling because no one else is even interested."

Explaining that the Greeks saw wrestling as the ultimate combination of mind and body, Poliakoff, who was an all-Ivy wrestler at Yale, says, "Though training and strength were quite important, the sport above all required skill, finesse and leverage."

Infantile pro wrestling confuses reality and perpetuates narrow-minded stereotypes, but time has not changed the emphasis of amateur wrestling.

"Balance, moves, speed and strength are essential," says freshman Dan Medalie. Crimson heavyweight Jim Phills adds that precision of movement is the key to good wrestling. "It's an art form like ballet or dance," comments the 200-pounder.

Wrestling may not be as appealing to the eye as Swan Lake, but Phills claims that the sport "can be very attractive if one develops the eye for it."

True, pro-wrestling and its wholly unassociated amateur counterpart both entail fireman carries, barrel roles, and navy stacks. But collegiate grappling alone has in many ways achieved the stature of true artistry. The Crimson's Tony Bienstock compares wrestling to the paintings of Winslow Homer, while Medalie sees similarities between his sport and Renaissance Leonardo Da Vinci.

Whether in the pro ring or on the Harvard mat, wrestlers engage in their own version of physical combat. What ultimately distinguishes the genuine from the absurd is that while Stan "Heart-punch" Staziak bloodies the ring with his ludicrous antics, the Crimson wrestlers use their mat as if it were a canvas, worthy of easel and brush.