Tons of Pictures from a Russian Freestyle page

Photos from freestyle juniors tournament in Germany 2/12/02

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Tascosa girls claim state wrestling title

By Steve Brannan 2/26/02
sbrannan@amarillonet.com

AUSTIN - After all the results had been counted and recounted, the UIL girls' wrestling title returned to the Panhandle on Saturday - with a new home.

Winning by the smallest margin in the four-year history of the tournament, Tascosa edged El Paso Hanks and Arlington Sam Houston to claim the state title at the Austin Convention Center.

Needing a perfect day heading into the semifinals and finals, the Lady Rebels came close with two individual championships and three finalists overall. What took more than an hour to determine, though, was the final outcome:

Tascosa with 62 points, Hanks 60.5 and Sam Houston 59.

"That's pretty close to perfect," Tascosa coach Johnny Cobb said. "All I'll say is don't ever count the Rebels out."

Although Palo Duro led the team standings entering Saturday's final rounds, the Lady Dons encountered trouble in several of their key matches. That opened the door for the other three teams -- and a retabulation of results throughout the tournament.

What proved certain for the Lady Rebels were individual titles by Houston Shepherd at 138 pounds and Tasia Benfield at 148. Hanks also won a pair of titles, including a key victory by Stephanie Jenkins over Tascosa's Jenifer Brantley at 102.

Sam Houston, meanwhile, found success on the consolation side of the bracket with its five wrestlers - one more than Tascosa and two more than Hanks.

But the Lady Rebels' resolve and success in the early rounds proved decisive by the end.

"It feels great," Brantley said. "It's been a dream for me, Houston and Tasia because we all started it for Tascosa. We knew we had the capability to win, but it's just unbelievable."

With all of its wrestlers finished, Tascosa could only watch as Hanks' Diana Reveles wrestled for the 165-pound title. But Killeen Ellison's Angela Whitley took a 5-1 win, giving the Lady Rebels hope.

Cobb and assistant Dawn Welch began crunching the numbers. And after getting more bonus points for pins earlier in the tournament, Tascosa had the advantage it needed.

"We knew she (Reveles) had to lose, but it made it kind of easy," Cobb said. "They had three in the finals, we had three in the finals. Eventually it came down to pin points.

"If it had been for one less pin, we wouldn't have won the state championship."

The scene was eerily reminiscent of Caprock's 2000 title, when Sam Houston originally was awarded the championship before scoring errors later gave it to the Lady Longhorns.

Shepherd and Benfield proved to be two of the difference makers, as they both took decisions in their championship matches. Shepherd defeated Taylor's Diana Mato by a 9-7 score, and Benfield finished off Arlington Martin's Jennifer Miller for a 6-2 win.

Palo Duro and Hereford, likewise, were not sent home empty-handed.

Facing rival Crystal Valdez of Caprock again in the 95-pound final, Palo Duro's Stormy Grear followed her regional title with a pin at the 5:00 mark to claim the individual title.

With Valdez taking the down position to begin the third period, Grear quickly cradled Valdez and eventually got leverage to score the pin. It was the second impressive win of the day for Grear, who pinned previously-undefeated Melissa Terry of Katy in the semifinals.

"I was mainly just trying to keep her down and not let her get up," Grear said of her match with Valdez. "That was the first time I got her into the cradle all year."

Julie Aquino also took home the 215-pound championship for Hereford, scoring a late takedown on Arlington Sam Houston's Monica Coleman for a 7-5 victory.

After teammate Astrid Gomez lost her chance for the 128-pound title due to an injury default, Aquino said she had just the inspiration she needed to claim the championship.

"I looked over at my teammate and how she lost," said Aquino, who had lost to Coleman in two previous meetings. "I just wanted to win it for her. I just knew I had to go in with the right attitude to win."

Gomez took second place in her division, while the Lady Dons' Brittany Owens earned a third-place finish. Palo Duro's Lauren Lindsey, who won the 119 title last season, was forced into an injury default during her semifinal match.

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Turning back the clock on girls' athletic opportunities

Doug Grow Published Feb 24, 2002

Why didn't anyone tell us that they were going to have a '50s day at the State Capitol last Tuesday? Most of us enjoy little trips into the misty past. We could have swapped stories about Elvis and Ike and ended the whole party by singing "Rock Around the Clock."

But no, Rep. Sondra Erickson, R-Princeton, was pretty closemouthed about the blast to the past she was about to stage before the House Education Policy Committee.

At the core of Erickson's little nostalgia party was a bill that would limit school-related wrestling teams to members of the same gender. Given the budget restrictions of our time, the real impact would be to close all school-based wrestling programs to Minnesota girls. All of this would be for the good of the boys and the girls, of course.

To underscore the "need" for the bill, a handful of boys who have issues about wrestling against girls testified. A couple of them even demonstrated some holds in an effort to prove that there's a lot of inappropriate touching going on in wrestling.

Weird as the hearing was, it apparently was supposed to be taken seriously. There are some who really believe that in 2002, we're still supposed to find something wrong with men and women competing.

It's too bad that Erickson didn't bother to learn a little more about wrestling and about some of the young women who compete in it. Right in her hometown, there's a tough-as-nails wrestler, Morgan Holland. She's 11 years old and has won about 95 percent of the 300 matches she's wrestled in her brief career. Most of those triumphs have come against boys. She's the captain of the Princeton Youth Wrestling Club, which consists of her and 75 boys. She's won three state tournaments, competes on a national level and dreams someday of wrestling in the Olympics.

At the Olympic level she'd be able to wrestle against other women. Sometimes, in national events she's able to wrestle against other girls. But the fact is, if she wants to compete in the sport in Minnesota, she needs to wrestle against boys, because so few other girls are competing. Besides, wrestling against boys makes her better.

There have been boys who have scoffed at the idea of a girl wrestler.

How does she respond to those boys?

"I don't talk to them," she said. "But a lot of times I beat them -- and then they don't say anything more."

Is she frightened by the bill that might take away her opportunity to have meaningful competition?

"I'm not scared, I'm mad," she said. "Just because I'm a girl, that doesn't mean I shouldn't be able to wrestle."

Ah, from the mouths of 11-year-olds.

Phil Meinert is one of Morgan's coaches. He's dumbfounded by this bill that seemed to come out of nowhere.

"The only issue here is [that] to take wrestling away from a kid like Morgan would be totally wrong," he said.

When Morgan first showed up in the wrestling room a few years ago, most boys had a hard time taking her seriously, Meinert said.

"That changed after about six practices," he said. "She fits in. She's a wrestler."

Meinert is baffled by the question of inappropriate touching. This is wrestling. May the better wrestler win.

Rep. Mary Jo McGuire, DFL-Falcon Heights, was one of the few legislators at Tuesday's hearing to raise an eyebrow at what she was seeing and hearing.

"By not having mixed teams, we effectively eliminate high-school wrestling from the options girls have," she said afterward in a published interview.

Her phone then started ringing off the hook. Proponents of girls having the opportunity to wrestle did not have a voice at the Tuesday hearing. They now were turning to McGuire for help.

McGuire -- and others in the House -- will seek to change the direction of Erickson's bill by attaching amendments that would take the so-called issue out of the hands of the Legislature and put it into the hands of the Minnesota State High School League, which has a strong record of equal rights for female athletes.

Girls wrestling? Why are we still dealing with such silly questions?

"Wrestling isn't the sport I would have picked for Morgan," said Laura Holland, the wrestling champ's mother. "But what she's showed me is that she's got the talent for it. I'm not going to tell her she can't do it because she's a girl. Where I come from, that's discrimination."

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Wrestling Issues

By Jessica Portner 3/02

On a wintry Tuesday afternoon in San Mateo, California, in the sweat-scented gym of Aragon High School, a wrestling coach whistles for practice to start, and Misty Stalley takes to the mat. The muscular, five-foot-six-inch, 165-pound junior hikes up her sweats, twists her braid into a bun, and finds a worthy opponent. Two dozen teenagers scatter across the room with their partners, then crouch like frogs in starting positions. After a second whistle blows, Misty springs onto her opponent’s back and wraps her arms and legs around the boy’s lanky frame.

The two writhe like warring tigers for several seconds, rocking back and forth. Then, suddenly, Misty wriggles free and slaps the boy’s shoulders on the red vinyl mat. “Whew! That was fun,” she says, shaking the kinks out of her arms. “There’s nothing better than beating someone and knowing it was only you.” And Misty is well-acquainted with the thrill of winning in this one-on- one sport: She’s been besting Aragon teammates regularly for more than two years.

Opposing coaches say things like, “Put ’em in the kitchen, where they belong,” notes Misty Stalley. — Josie Lepe

As something of a pioneer, Misty Stalley has confronted physical, emotional, and social obstacles to achieve success. The 16-year-old powerhouse is one of a relatively small cadre of girls—some 5,000 nationwide—who take to the mat for their high school teams. But the numbers are increasing rapidly, up from just 100 a decade ago, explains Gary Abbott, special projects director for USA Wrestling, the sport’s national governing body. In fact, he says, wrestling is one of the fastest growing sports for girls in the country, and in 2004 in Athens, Greece, women will wrestle for the first time ever in the Olympics, leaving boxing as the last males-only event.
Still, girls’ participation in the sport remains slim compared with the 200,000 high school boys who wrestle. With so few participants, opportunities for all- girls squads are limited, so young women generally wind up tangling with boys. As a result, some coaches, parents, and teachers worry about inappropriate contact and the physical risks involved. A number of critics also contend that some girls enter the most intimate of sports only to grab attention or snag a date.

And stories abound of girls being mistreated. Two years ago, for example, a high school in Rochester, New Hampshire, canceled the remainder of wrestling season after boys persistently harassed a female teammate. Often, male wrestlers will forfeit a match rather than risk the embarrassment of being bested by a female.

Misty certainly has battled bigotry on and off the mat. Spectators have jeered, and coaches of opposing teams have hurled invectives at her. “There’s a lot of prejudice. They talk smack and try extra hard to intimidate. They say things like, ‘Put ’em in the kitchen, where they belong,’ ” notes Misty. “I’ve had coaches make fun of me and say I shouldn’t have come, which makes me mad. But it also makes me want to win.”

In Aragon High’s steel-and-concrete locker room on a Wednesday afternoon in mid- December, Misty and her friend Elena Maskalik shed their jeans and boots and slip into sweats and T-shirts. They remove their gold-stud earrings because if a post were to get rammed into someone’s neck during a bout, “you could bust an artery,” Elena explains. Misty tucks books into her gym bag, braids her hair, and laces up her sneakers, completing the transformation from typical teen to fierce competitor. Slamming her locker shut, she revels in last night’s 78-6 victory against neighboring Woodside High. “We kicked the crap out of them,” she boasts. Finally, the two girls disinfect their shoes with a chlorine scrub and slather germ-killing lotion on their faces to guard against impetigo and ringworm.

Fighting off skin diseases has been the least of Misty’s worries as one of four girls on the 32-member Aragon team. During her very first competition freshman year, she got the message that she wasn’t welcome. At that match, her male opponent picked her up and hurled her to the floor face first, she recalls. “He said: ‘OK bitch, I’m going to show you why girls shouldn’t be here.’ ”

Generally, though, Misty’s own teammates are more buddies than bullies. Today, she’s wrestling Tim Zasly, who considers her a friend. The two register around the same number on the scale—wrestlers are grouped in 14 weight classes—so it makes sense for them to square off. They take their positions, a whistle blows, and after a minute or two, Tim pins Misty flat on her back, holding her arms over her head in a move called the “Saturday night special.” “I’m her toy,” he kids as Misty wraps her legs around his head. “She makes me feel like a piece of meat.”

Steve Sweatt, a senior and Misty’s ex-boyfriend, stands on the sidelines, mopping his forehead after a tough round. He admires Misty but admits that wrestling girls has been an adjustment. “Sometimes you feel weird ’cause you don’t know what you should or shouldn’t do,” he notes. “With girls, you don’t want them to go, ‘Oh, he’s gonna touch my chest.’ ” Actually, Misty and her female teammates have had to deal with some inappropriate touching. “Sometimes they ‘miss’ your leg and grab something else,’’ Misty explains. “A few guys have groped.”

Misty’s dad, Duane Stalley, confesses to feeling uneasy about the intimacy the sport requires. “I was annoyed that she has to have her hands on boys and they have to have their hands on her,” he says. Misty’s mother, Susan, is more concerned about the physical danger, worrying whenever her daughter has to “go up against a big guy who’s not very nice.” Despite their reservations, though, Misty’s parents still cheer her on at every meet possible.
Most members of the male-dominated wrestling community have not been as sympathetic, says Mary Jo Kane, director of the Tucker Center for Research on Girls & Women in Sport at the University of Minnesota. “We always assume the reason sports are segregated is to protect women. But I argue it’s to protect males. Wrestling puts boys in a no-win situation,” she explains. “If they beat a girl, so what? If they lose, their very manhood is called into question.”

Female wrestlers face a similar bind. Some male teammates, coaches, and audience members call such girls’ femininity into question, according to Kane. Others take the opposite tack, going so far as to claim that the only reason girls join mostly male teams is to find boyfriends, she says.

Kent Bailo, director of the United States Girls’ Wrestling Association, has also heard that allegation but flat-out rejects it. Like many sports, wrestling is so demanding that anyone who approaches it casually won’t last long. “Nobody,” he says, “ever shook hands in a wrestling match to get a date for the prom.”

A handshake is actually what got Misty into the sport. When Aragon High’s wrestling coach, Carl Pastore, felt her grip at a meet-and-greet session for coaches and prospective athletes two and a half years ago, he suggested she try out for the team. Misty was looking for a sport that would play to her strengths—a muscular build and a dancer’s natural flexibility—and figured she’d give it a shot.

While many coaches begrudgingly let girls sign up, Pastore’s welcoming attitude has attracted an unusually high number of young women to his team. (Most high school wrestling teams have no girls at all or just one or two.) A former wrestler himself, he believes girls should have an opportunity to savor the sport he loves. And he respects those who stick it out. “You know in two days if you’re tough enough or not,” he says, springing around the floor, correcting athletes’ positions during practice. “In wrestling, there’s no ball to pass, no water to resist. No devices. It’s your hands vs. their hands, and when you lose, it’s your loss.”

Pastore later notes that Misty is stronger than a lot of boys on the team. “Misty has a shot at being special and being ranked on a national level against girls,” he says. “She has the attitude, desire, and the technique.” Though he doesn’t think she’ll be ready to wrestle with the best females in her weight class in the 2004 Olympics, Pastore is betting on her for 2008.

Getting there won’t be easy. Misty already practices every day and attends more than a dozen meets each season. And since joining the team, she’s broken her elbow, twisted her knees, and ripped muscles. “This sport is brutal, and there’s a lot of pain,” she says. Wrestlers also tend to have an obsession with weight. They want to tip the scales at the top of their class to be a formidable force, but there’s a catch: If they gain even a pound or two, they move up to another class, where they’re relatively small.

After practice one day, Elena and Misty bake cookies in the Stalleys’ roomy kitchen as the Red Hot Chili Peppers blast from the stereo. Though the five- foot-five-inch, 119-pound Elena is taste-testing the treats, she counts every calorie. For example, her diet today consisted only of a Power Bar, a Diet Snapple, cottage cheese, and egg whites. “This is the price you pay,” says the slender Elena, who is wrestling for the first time this year. “You want to be small, explosive, and aggressive. And to do that, you have to keep your weight minimal. The bottom line is you don’t want to lose [a match].”

Snatching a hot cookie from the tray, Misty says she no longer focuses on weight; she concentrates more on building strength and developing technique. “I used to not eat for five days straight,” she says. “It’s insanely unsafe. I don’t do that anymore.” At some tournaments, she adds, officials weigh athletes every couple of hours. She’s seen kids vomit or try to sweat off weight before stepping on the scale.
With all the pressures girl wrestlers face, some of their supporters argue that they’d be better off wrestling only other girls. USA Wrestling’s Gary Abbott supports females competing on mixed teams for now, but he wishes more states would follow the lead of Texas and Hawaii and set up separate squads. As it stands, female wrestlers often have to sit the bench or end up losing matches to much stronger opponents, so the coed format favors boys, he argues. It also drives girls away from trying the sport. “Young girls think they can do anything, and they’re right,” Abbott says. “But we are asking girls to practice and compete when they have a physical disadvantage.” He adds, however, that all- female teams and tournaments would draw more girls to the sport and allow for fairer competition.

In late December, hundreds of girls are gathered at Del Mar High School in San Jose for just the kind of competition Abbott advocates, an all-girls West Coast tournament. While some flex their muscles and ascend the scales, several wearing headgear and ear guards lift weights to warm up. Others do somersaults in a side room while waiting for their matches to begin.

Finally, one referee belts “Misty Stalley” into the microphone. In gray sweats and a T-shirt, Misty bounces around like a prizefighter about to enter the ring. Spectators in the stands train their eyes on the center mat, and Misty’s female teammates from Aragon High cheer her on.

If she wins this bout, she’ll snag the top prize for her weight class. Misty steps forward as a hard rain pelts the gymnasium roof. Both she and her competitor get into position, and after the whistle blows, Misty leans into the other girl, who is on all fours. She flips the girl over, and the two twist, gyrate, and grunt for several minutes.

Finally, Misty forces her opponent’s back to the mat, her face set in a steely glare. The referee blows the whistle, declaring Misty the victor. She marches off the mat and wipes sweat from her forehead, then plops down on the bleachers, exhausted. One tournament down and hundreds more to go.

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Women's Wrestling on the Rise

2/28/2000

By Ty Halpin

When Doug Reese proposed the idea of sponsoring women's wrestling to his institution, he was not taken seriously - at least not at first. The University of Minnesota, Morris wrestling coach had to overcome some misconceptions, as well as prove the women were true athletes.

"People thought I was talking about mud or Jell-O wrestling," said Reese. "I had to explain that this was serious, Olympic-style wrestling. We really had a lot to prove at the start, but once we proved the team had some serious athletes, everyone has been behind us."

Reese and many in the wrestling community hope the women's version of the sport will make a push to become an NCAA-sponsored sport. To do so, the sport must meet the NCAA Committee on Women's Athletics guidelines and become an emerging sport.

Those guidelines require the sport to have 20 or more varsity teams and/or competitive club teams in existence on college campuses. Other data must exist to demonstrate support for the sport. Data to be considered here includes collegiate recreation and intramural sponsorship; high-school sport sponsorship; and nonscholastic competitive programs and associations. Organizational support from the United States Olympic Committee, the sport's national governing body, conferences, coaches associations and professional organizations also are considered.

Internationally, women's wrestling is on the rise. More than 50 countries sponsor a national team, and USA Wrestling expects the sport will receive medal status for the 2004 Olympics. The United States won its first world championship this year and is supported financially by USA Wrestling.

Tricia Saunders, 33, is a groundbreaker for women's wrestling. A four-time world champion, Saunders didn't compete past the sixth grade because the opportunity was not made available to her. Instead, she was a gymnast. She returned to the mat in 1989 after college when her brother, also a wrestler, saw women competing at the world level.

"I think the sport will expand whether we care or not," said Saunders. "Internationally, the feeling is that it's a wonderful sport and people are used to seeing women compete in this way. In the United States, it's different, and the process is somewhat slow. The girls are there, it's just a matter of time, really."

On the high-school level, participation numbers have increased recently. A few years ago, there were a handful of girls interested in competing. Now, according to the National Federation of State High School Associations, 661 schools and 2,361 girls participate in the sport. Those numbers are not the total either. Many girls compete on boys teams.

"With the growth we've had at the lower levels, there are a lot of talented athletes looking for an opportunity to participate," Reese said, noting that Michigan, Texas and Hawaii sponsor high-school championships for girls. "It hasn't been as fast a process as I had hoped, but there's tremendous growth at the grassroots level, which is encouraging."

That support could turn into NCAA sponsorship, but not before more teams are formed at the collegiate level.

Should it reach status as an emerging sport, it would be recognized by the NCAA to provide additional athletics opportunities to female student-athletes. It would have a national championship conducted by its governing body or perhaps a coaches association. But there is no NCAA championship in an emerging sport. Once the sport is elevated to an NCAA championship sport, it is removed from the emerging sports list.

Legislation was passed in 1994 creating the nine original emerging sports for women: ice hockey, rowing, synchronized swimming, team handball, water polo, archery, badminton, bowling and squash. Rowing has since been elevated to an NCAA championship sport and removed from the list of emerging sports. The NCAA Committee on Women's Athletics has asked water polo, ice hockey, squash and bowling be put on the "fast track" to championship status on an accelerated timetable.

In Canada, legislation has assisted the development of women's wrestling. Canadian law states that any high school sponsoring a team must do so for both genders.

"It's a completely different system," said Jennifer Reid, a junior at Wisconsin-La Crosse who competes with the men's wrestling team. Reid is a Toronto native. "What is the equivalent of the state tournaments here have just as many girls as boys qualify. The participation is similar here, just not at the college level."

Reid is on a one-year-abroad program from Brock University in St. Catharines, Ontario, Canada. Brock fields a full women's team. The men she trains with at Wisconsin-La Crosse were unsure what to make of Reid when she stepped into the wrestling room.

"At first, they didn't say much, but now, they volunteer to help me get better," Reid said. "They're getting used to having a girl in the room. For sure, it will just take a few pioneers to get the trend moving. I think everything will come together in a few years."

Reese has seen the sport make advancements. While Minnesota-Morris is the first NCAA institution to officially sponsor the sport, two schools in the National Association of Intercollegiate Athletics - Missouri Valley College and Cumberland College (Kentucky) - have added the sport.

"We have women from all over the country come here solely to wrestle," Reese said. "That was a big reason for starting a program. There's plenty of talent for more programs to be created."

Title IX - often blamed as a reason to cut men's non-revenue programs - may actually be a blessing, Reese believes. If the wrestling community can take a pro-active stance on Title IX through women's wrestling, Reese thinks the legislation will turn out to have a positive effect on the sport.

"In my opinion, we need to do more things to embrace Title IX and do it in such a way that we can keep our men's programs," said Reese, who has had eight wrestlers compete on the world level. "We've seen women's (ice) hockey grow very quickly with the support of the NCAA. The men's programs have continued to be strong as well. It's an inexpensive sport, especially if you already have a men's team. It seems like a no-brainer."

With the explosion on the high-school level, women's wrestling is in need of more national exposure to nudge it to the level of women's ice hockey. Taking a cue from the ice hockey constituents, those in support of women's wrestling are pointing towards the 2004 Olympics to offer exposure.

USA Wrestling has provided more opportunities for women in the United States than ever. Women compete in about 75 percent of the events USA Wrestling sanctions. The organization also sent a proposal to many NCAA institutions and conferences asking them to consider adding women's wrestling.

To make the sport viable, more support on the collegiate level is needed, Saunders and Reese say. They are not as far from that goal as it might seem.

"I think there is quite a lot of support at the lower levels and through high schools," Saunders said. "It's really just a matter of time before it becomes accepted, much like judo and karate are accepted. When it does, I think people will realize the positive influence this sport will have."

Women's wrestling, as with most sports that aren't traditionally contested by females, needs pioneers to challenge the system. Saunders and Reese continue to push the sport, hoping the 2004 Olympics will bring widespread acceptance and, eventually, NCAA sponsorship.

As for the student-athletes, Reese thinks women will continue to wrestle, and in larger numbers, whether or not colleges offer the sport.

"It definitely takes a different breed to do this, but that's true of any wrestler," Reese said. "There are a lot of dedicated athletes here. They're not out to prove something, they've just fallen in love with this sport and don't want to stop competing. They're just looking for a place to wrestle."

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Mixed-sex wrestling:
A step back from equality and sense

By Katherine Kersten

Last year, a promising Minnesota high school wrestler had to wrestle a girl at his sectional meet in order to proceed to the state tournament. His school, a private Christian institution, generally requires its wrestlers to forfeit to girls, thereby incurring a loss for both the wrestler and the team. The young man clearly didn't want to wrestle the girl. But given the stakes, after consulting with his father and his coach, he decided to proceed.

As the embarrassed boy walked out on the mat, spectators began to laugh. He quickly flipped the girl to her back, but couldn't bring himself to pin her, which required pushing directly on her chest. For about 40 seconds, the boy remained frozen. Finally his coach, in frustration, shouted, "Just do it!" The boy made his move, pinning the girl to the mat. But walking off, he looked defeated, not victorious. With hanging head, he strode - angry and humiliated - straight to the locker room.

Across the nation, scenes like this are becoming increasingly common. Last year, about 2,500 girls participated in high school wrestling, mostly as members of boys' teams. (Male wrestlers numbered about 240,000.) Title IX, the federal gender equity in education law, does not require public high schools to place girls on their wrestling teams, but many states allow it. South Dakota and Wyoming, on the other hand, prohibit mixed-sex wrestling, while Texas and Hawaii schools have separate girls wrestling teams.

Here in Minnesota, state law requires public schools to let girls try out for, and compete on, boys teams. (Boys, however, are barred from girls' teams.) A number of Minnesota high schools, including St. Paul Humboldt and Minneapolis De La Salle, have female wrestlers, and some schools are reportedly promoting the practice.

Concerns about mixed-sex wrestling arise from wrestling's unique nature as a contact sport. Wrestling's objective is to demonstrate control over one's opponent. A wrestler strives to take his opponent down to the mat, and scores points for dominating from behind or on top. Wrestlers frequently engage in pretzel-like contortions, such as forcing their head between an opponent's legs while struggling to turn him on his back. About 90 percent of wrestling holds involve grabbing the upper body or pelvic area.

In Minnesota, a few Christian high schools - including Trinity at River Ridge and Concordia Academy in Roseville - require their wrestlers to forfeit to female opponents as a matter of conscience. But a boy who forfeits may lose the chance to wrestle for a medal, and may even see his dream of becoming conference champion, or making the state tournament, evaporate. To make matters worse, boys who forfeit are generally taking a loss in a match they could expect to win. For while a few exceptional girls can compete effectively against boys in their weight class, most lose quickly to male opponents.

Our society tends to frame the debate over mixed-sex wrestling in the familiar terms of physical safety and legal rights. Critics frequently note, for example, that the practice poses health risks for adolescent females. Teenage boys have significantly greater muscle mass than girls, and can injure them when wrenching their joints, or lying heavily on top of them.

On the other hand, mixed-sex wrestling creates legal risks for males. Boys who wrestle girls, or practice with female teammates, must touch them in ways that would constitute illegal sexual harassment in any other setting. In our litigious society, coaches take a risk whenever they have close physical contact with young female athletes. (Some wrestling coaches have refused to demonstrate holds on girls.) Wrestling officials also incur risks at mixed-sex matches, since they must break holds by thrusting in their hands near girls' chests or crotches.

But while health and legal concerns are important, they do not go to the heart of the problem. For the primary objection to boys wrestling girls is this: A civilized society should teach men that they must not use their superior strength to overpower and control women. If the sexes are to live in harmony, they must ground their relations in a kind of compact, centered in mutual dignity and regard. A fundamental tenet of this compact is that decent men respect women, and view using force against them as dishonorable and unmanly. My father put it simply: "Boys don't hit girls."

Most boys have absorbed this lesson. The U.S. Air Force discovered this 10 years ago, when its Survival, Evasion, Resistance and Escape (SERE) program carried out internal psychological surveys to prepare for the advent of female combat pilots. These surveys revealed that men react with significantly greater emotion when female colleagues are subjected to simulated stress and violence, than they do when male colleagues are similarly threatened. (To combat this tendency, SERE attempted to desensitize men by using a variety of techniques, like a realistic rape scenario, in order to overcome protective attitudes toward women that an enemy might exploit.)

Wrestling contests between men and women strike symbolically at the heart of the compact that should govern relations between the sexes. Mixed-sex contests desensitize boys to the need to behave with respect toward girls at all times. In addition, they promote a double standard that is sure to prompt cynicism and resentment on the part of male wrestlers. Boys know instinctively that it's unfair to permit one wrestler (the girl) to choose whether she wishes to grapple intimately with a member of the opposite sex, while forcing the other (the boy) to do so against his will.

Perhaps it's too much to expect our rights-obsessed society to understand all this. But at the least, contemporary Americans should be able to grasp that mixed-sex wrestling is inequitable from an athletic point of view. The average male is markedly stronger than the average female, and has a faster reaction time and greater cardiovascular capacity. As a result, contests that pit men against women do not provide either sex with a level playing field. Is a matchup between the LA Lakers and the all-female Minnesota Lynx anyone's idea of "gender equity"?

Girls who want to wrestle should have opportunities to do so. If interest is sufficient, high schools can sponsor all-girls teams. (The University of Minnesota-Morris has one of the nation's only women's collegiate varsity wrestling teams.) On the other hand, if interest is limited, female wrestlers can pool their resources and form single-sex community wrestling clubs, like the rugby or fencing clubs that other athletes organize. But putting girls on boys wrestling teams is not a step toward the liberation of women. It's a step back from equality for athletes of both sexes, and a giant step back from common sense.

Katherine Kersten is director of the Center of the American Experiment in Minneapolis. This article originally appeared in Minnesota's Star Tribune, Jan. 17, 2001.

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