A Trip To Oklahoma Wrestling Room Changes Opinion of Team Writer Once Despised
By Kyle Klingman “TWM Columnist
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It wasn’t that I disliked Oklahoma wrestling; it’s that there was never a time in my life that I truly liked their program. So when I was traveling down I-35 toward Dallas I had a difficult decision to make: get to Dallas early to see where JFK was shot or stop off in Norman and pop in on Jack Spates and company unannounced.
I chose wrestling.
My apprehension toward Sooner wrestling had a history. The three people I attend the NCAA tournament with each have different schools they like, so there was never a team we could collectively agree upon to support. Desperate for something that could bring us together we decided that the only thing that might unite us was to find a team we didn’t like to cheer against. We chose Oklahoma wrestling.
To us, it seemed like Oklahoma stalled and faked injury timeouts more than most teams. It was also strange that their brand of Asics shoes came untied more often than other wrestlers wearing the exact same model. So when it was announced that the Sooners took the lead for a brief moment at the 1999 NCAA tournament our ring leader, Doug, shook his head and pleaded, “Oh no, anybody but Oklahoma. ”
It was the rally cry that we had been looking for. We immediately formed a club called A.B.O (Anybody But Oklahoma) and belted out these three letters anytime a Sooner wrestler was on the mat. The following year we made T-shirts with our new slogan and attended periodic meetings on Sundays over a greasy breakfast prepared by our new president, Doug. I was now a member of an exclusive four-member alliance that planned to take on the wrestling world one fan at a time.
When I approached Norman to check out the wrestling facilities my distaste for Oklahoma wrestling had waned considerably over the past two years. Some of my favorite wrestlers attended OU and I had just spent two days with the toughest Sooner of them all: Dan Hodge. The thought of Hodge crushing me like an apple with his bare hand provided plenty of incentive to give Oklahoma wrestling a chance.
Since I had no idea where anything on campus was it took a few minutes to get my bearings. Every building I entered was for the football team so I stopped by the campus post office to get some accurate information. The lady I asked wasn’t sure but she thought the wrestling offices were at the football stadium. Her assumption proved to be correct.
As I trekked over to the stadium I was a little uneasy. Although I had seen Spates regularly we had never formally met. When I reached his office the door was shut but he was inside. When I knocked, Spates looked up from whatever he was reading and gave me the “come on in” signal with his hand.
“Can you tell me where the wrestling room is?” I asked without introducing myself.
“Why do you want to know?” Spates responded with an apprehensive tone in his voice.
Maybe he thought I was a spy from Stillwater. I was beginning to think this wasn’t such a good idea.
“We’ve talked on phone a few times,” I said as I introduced myself.
“Oh sure, what brings you down to Norman,” he replied.
After five minutes of conversation I felt guilty for the distaste I once had for Oklahoma wrestling. I mean this guy rolled out the crimson and cream carpet for me. Spates asked me three times if I needed a place to stay and he gave me a tour of campus despite being late for lunch with his daughter. Then he called his son and assistant coach, Jeremy, to come and take me out to lunch at the athletic dining hall on his dime. I’d never been treated so well in my life.
After lunch, Jeremy had to get over to the wrestling room for a one-on-one drill session with defending NCAA 141-pound champion Teyon Ware, so I decided to go over with him. My plan was to check out the facilities and then hit the road. But then I got trapped. Young Spates showed me around and told me about his plans for selling out the arena when they wrestle Oklahoma State. He got me pretty fired up. Then the inevitable happened; I had to stay for practice.
The atmosphere before practice was remarkable. The collective attitude of the team was unlike anything I had ever seen. Some wrestlers will give the tough guy routine to a stranger who comes into their territory, but these guys were different. These guys were, dare I say, nice. Half the team was shooting volleyballs into the gap between the wall and the pull-up bar while the rest of the team was either in the locker room or on the bleacher seats talking. Everyone was laughing and having a good time. It was like one big happy family.
At the head of the household was Jack Spates, a former 118-pound wrestler from Slippery Rock who looked like his days of going live and making his old college weight were behind him. Spates appeared more like a father-figure than the head coach of a powerhouse wrestling team when he gathered the team for the pre-practice meeting. In some respects, his team viewed him that way as well.
“Tell us the Joseph Martin story,” said a voice from the group.
“Yeah, the Joseph Martin story,” someone else added.
“You guys want to hear the Joseph Martin story do you?” Spates replied. “Well, alright.”
The Joseph Martin story was about one of his former wrestlers who wasn’t naturally gifted but wanted to be part of the team. Eventually, Martin became a doctor and attributed wrestling as one of the reasons for his success. The moral of the story was that everyone on the team was important; a point Spates lived out with his current team.
Giving an account of a former wrestler was nothing new for Spates. The story telling process was something he worked into every meeting as a way to motivate his athletes and to show how wrestlers have used the sport to achieve great things. He wanted his athletes to learn more than just technical wrestling skills and he was just as proud of his athletes’ academic accomplishments as he was about them being an All-American or NCAA champion.
As a coach, Spates wasn’t the hard-nosed, blood and guts, militaristic type. If J Robinson is General Patton then Jack Spates is Robin Williams’ character (John Keating) from the movie Dead Poets Society. His approach was unconventional but very effective.
The success of the wrestling program over the last six years spoke loudest for Spates’ style. While some teams have shown great promise, the Sooners have consistently performed at a high level. Since 2000, Oklahoma wrestling teams earned five team trophies (given to the top four teams) at the NCAA tournament, more than any other school during that time. They are also the only program other than Oklahoma State to win a Big 12 conference team title (they won in 1999 and 2002). Even rival coach John Smith told me that Spates was “doing a great job with the program. ”
But for all the success as of late they are still missing an NCAA team title, a trophy Spates is still working hard to get. The last time Oklahoma won the NCAA tournament was in 1974 and, interestingly, Spates factored into the equation.
As a junior, the former Slippery Rock standout earned a spot in the 118-pound finals against Oklahoma’s second-seeded Gary Breece. The team competition was close and the Sooners needed things to go their way to bring home the title. Breece did his part and won, 3-2.
“Had I not lost that match Oklahoma would not have won their last national championship, a fact I reminded them of in my interview for this job,” said Spates. “I told them I helped you get the last one and I’d like to help you get the next one. We want to win a national championship this year but that’s not our focus. If it happens it happens but, ultimately, this is about succeeding in life and taking advantage of a great opportunity to wrestle in Oklahoma City.”
And life is something Spates is grateful to have. After a mild heart attack on December 12, 2002, Spates used that experience as an opportunity for change.
“A double-minded man is unstable in all his ways,” said Spates. “I bought into fulfillment found in success and I got everything I wanted but I was increasingly disenchanted. I had one foot in both worlds but I never had real peace. I needed to be humbled by something. After my heart attack I started asking myself what life was really about. I had walked away from the Lord and eventually I started going back to church. I’ve found true peace in my relationship with Christ.”
Once practice started the attitude of the team switched and the looseness was gone. These guys meant business. Practice that day consisted of drilling and going over a variety of techniques. Even when Spates corrected the team it was always in a positive manner. He simply pointed out what they were doing wrong and showed them how to do things right.
Halfway through practice my time was up. I had to get to Dallas. I thanked Jack for his hospitality and left the wrestling room with a good feeling about what had transpired. Everyone on the Oklahoma wrestling team went above and beyond the call of duty to make me feel welcome.
But there was still something missing as I walked toward my car. There were unspoken words that needed to be said. I had been pretty rough on OU wrestling over the years and Spates just treated me like a king. I needed some closure. The following movie quotes are my attempt at what needed to be said by both parties to bring finality to a great visit.
What I felt Jack Spates’ needed to tell me and his team for closure:
“Carpe diem, cease the day boys, Make your lives extraordinary.” “John Keating, Dead Poets Society
What I needed to tell Jack Spates and the Oklahoma wrestling team for closure:
“I guess what I’m trying to say is that if I can change, and you can change, everybody can change.” “Rocky Balboa, Rocky IV
Because if the Italian Stallion can change the minds of communist leaders (and get a standing ovation) by knocking out their steroid-enhanced experiment Ivan Drago in the Soviet Union during the cold war, I can change my attitude toward Oklahoma wrestling.
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