A Teachable Point Of View

According to the dictionary, perspective is “a particular attitude toward or way of regarding something; a point of view.”

I woke up early Tuesday morning around 2 a.m. to my wife clutching my arm and repeatedly saying, “The tree is coming down—it’s coming down!” I woke up just in time to watch a massive tree fall through our yard, barely missing the house, crushing the kids’ play structure, and blocking the driveway so badly it was almost impossible to get out in the morning. We surveyed the yard, said a prayer, and went back to bed.

When I woke up for the day, I was grateful. My family was safe and my home was intact. All was still good in our small corner of the world. I could have been frustrated that I had to spend the first couple hours of my day chainsawing and clearing debris instead of heading straight to work, but my mindset shifted. I thought about how important perspective really is.

I made the choice not to let an inconvenience ruin my day. My family was safe, and my boys had their first home dual that evening. My home was intact, my family was safe, and my boys are tough. My heart was full.

As I finished bucking the log and clearing debris, my thoughts shifted back to the team and the opportunity they had to compete in front of our hometown crowd. It was Jr. Bears Night, and the stands were going to be packed. Like every competition, some of our boys were going to win, and some were going to lose. Regardless of individual outcomes, I knew there would be a lot of emotion. Win or lose, I try to keep our boys focused on the process and grounded in perspective.

I’ve been thinking a lot about perspective lately and trying to find the right words to articulate how important it is as we move through this wrestling season together—on a journey that, no matter how it ends, will leave us all better than when we started.

I recently listened to an interview on FloWrestling with an Oklahoma State RTC coach who talked about the process he takes his athletes through and the importance of small details in reaching the next level. What stood out most, though, was his emphasis on perspective. The incredible front headlock or perfectly timed high-crotch takedown our boys are working to master won’t serve them in the same way ten years from now. They’re not going to get paid for those techniques, and if they throw a front headlock on someone at the park, they might end up in trouble.

That said, in their current reality, these skills absolutely matter. They are relevant and important for the goals they’re chasing right now. But I need them to view our process through a wider lens—not one that is only laser-focused on the present moment. We have to look at the big picture.

The greatest outcome of our program isn’t the wins, the medals, or the podium finishes. It’s the training habits, life skills, discipline, and persistence required to become a master of something difficult. Learning how to do things the right way in the Tahoma High School wrestling room is the true reward. This way of life will serve them far longer than any medal that eventually ends up in a box in their mom’s garage.

Dual meet wins and tournament placements won’t continue to serve these young men as they grow older, but our process will. It will carry them forward as they become doctors, servicemen, leaders, business owners, fathers, and people with the capacity to positively impact their communities and the world.

I think a lot about our process and how to help our boys truly understand what we’re asking of them—because what we do is uncommon. With the right perspective, they’ll understand not only the importance of the present, but also who they are becoming in preparation for the next season of life. That season will require them to persist, overcome adversity, and chase the “next best thing” while contributing at work, supporting their communities, and raising their families.

The wrestling season can feel like an endless grind, but in reality, it’s short. Sometimes we place too much emphasis on just getting through the season so we can stand on the podium in February, instead of embracing the hard practices, long van rides, and time spent with teammates and coaches—our wintertime family.

The truth is, a wrestling career is brief when compared to the span of a lifetime, and the season itself passes in a flash. These moments are fleeting. Proper perspective helps us focus on what truly lasts—what carries far beyond tournament placements.

Winning today doesn’t guarantee success tomorrow. Losing a hard-fought match after a tough week of preparation doesn’t mean you won’t be a champion in the future. These are lessons we need to teach our young people—not just in sports, but in school, work, and life.

The true reward isn’t the outcome. It’s the process: choosing to do hard things over time, with gratitude and love in our hearts, regardless of the result.

Yours in wrestling,

Coach Feist

(reflections of an aspiring headlock hero)