There's not a whole lot to say about my personal wrestling career. It was one full of a lot of injuries, disappointments and depression. As a pee-wee I showed promise and potential with some notable results, but then broke my back in eighth grade, missing nearly the entire season. I was never the same after, then suffering more injuries that hampered my career throughout high school including a torn bicep, a torn groin and torn ligaments in my ankle. I don't have stories of the state tournament. I have but one time in my entire career where I beat a ranked opponent. My moments of glory and notoriety are few and far between. I was a nobody in this sport that did nothing and accomplished nothing. I've always been forth and honest about that. Yet, I still had some great moments in wrestling, even if they didn't involve me getting my hand raised. I still have stories to tell, even if they didn't involve parts where I stood on top of a podium and had someone put a gold medal around my neck. This is one of them.
Sectionals, 2003, junior year.
Luck started off on my side that cold February day inside of Belle Plaine High School. The kid I was supposed to wrestle first round ended up not making weight, so I advanced to the semi-finals without having to do anything...well other than make weight. In the semi-finals I had Ryan Lewis of Lynnville-Sully.
One of my problems as a wrestler is that I had way, way, way too much respect for my opponents. Lewis had been a match shy of state qualification the season before with a 3rd place finish at Districts. Not only had he placed 3rd, he had knocked off Robbie Yilek of Belle Plaine to do so. Lewis started off the season ranked in the top 20 & he was my first match of the season. In the first period, I surprised myself by taking him down twice. Instead of calming down and relaxing, I got way too overzealous and in the second period ended up on my back and pinned. This time I knew better than to let my nerves get to me.
As good as Lewis was, I knew he couldn't stop my double leg. I had hit it twice on him in the dual and had the confidence to hit it again. In our sectional semi-final match, I once again hit him with it twice, and scored two takedowns. Yet, I couldn't ride Lewis. He was very good on bottom. He got an escape and a takedown of his own.
Third period it's my choice and with the advice of my coaches I go neutral. I'm ahead 4-3. All I have to do is not stall & keep him from taking me down. I have no idea why, but I completely froze up at that moment. I went numb. My legs became weak and I couldn't move.
I could hear Coach Kirby and Coach Jarmes going nuts over on the side, screaming at me to hit my double leg again. That's exactly what I should have done. That's exactly what should have happened. Instead with only seconds left to go, it was Lewis that shot in. Right on the edge of the mat, he was awarded two points. I lost 5-4.
It's one of those matches I always wonder how much it would have changed my perspective on myself as a wrestler had I won. I've always had a lot of respect for Lewis. He was a two time district qualifier, once a match away from state. When people ask me about the best wrestlers Lynnville Sully had during my years, Lewis is always one of the first names I bring up. Would I think more of myself had I won that match? I don't know. At districts, I wouldn't have fared too well. Gotta come clean about that too. Had three time state place-winner Nic Chiri of New London in the bracket. He pinned everyone in the first period that day.
My next match for 3rd place was against Wade Kimm of Iowa Valley. An opponent that I had beaten earlier in the season 11-6. Wade himself was a good wrestler that would win a district title & a state qualification the next year in 2004 as a senior.
First period as the aggressor Kimm fights off two of my takedown attempts, but I'm able to nail a Kelly on Kimm and go up 2-0.
Second period Kimm goes down. I'm unable to turn him as he gets an escape to cut my lead 2-1. Then out of nowhere Kimm hits his patented headlock & I go straight to my back. I fight like mad, using all the energy I have as I fight my way off my back. The period is over, I survived it, but I'm down 2-6. I have a lot of catching up to do.
I go to over to Coach Kirby and Coach Jarmes.
"I can take him down."
They nod at me. They trust me.
I choose neutral. My game plan is to light him up on takedowns. I know I'm better than him on my feet, and I knew that if I don't hesitate and commit to my shots, I can win this battle.
As soon as the whistle blows, I'm in on a takedown. I let him up. Towards the end of the period, I have nailed three takedowns. One more and I have this match tied. I think back on the Lewis match and know that fear and hesitation are NOT the way to go. I shoot in and take him down. The score is now 10-10 as I ride him out the rest of the period.
I am pumped. I am ready to go. I know that 3rd place bronze medal is mine. We're headed to sudden victory and I'm going to win this match.
Yet we're not heading to over time. As I stand on the line in my stance, ready to go I feel a hand on my shoulder. It's the official.
"Go over to your coaches." He says to me.
I walk over to Coach Kirby and Coach Jarmes. I ask them what's going on. They say that they aren't for sure as I look over at Iowa Valley's coaches. They are discussing something with the referee. A camera is grabbed as the referee and the Iowa Valley coaches watch it. I'm so in the moment, that all I can see, all I can visualize is myself taking Wade down and winning the match.
That's when I started to notice my surroundings. As time goes by I hear a chant.
"Let's go Steve. Let's go Steve."
At first I think the crowd is cheering for Steve Carl of Belle Plaine. We're at Blaine Plaine high school & he's in the championship match against Lewis. Yet I look over at the other mat, and there's nobody on it. I'd find out later that Steve pinned Lewis in the third period. The Steve these people are cheering for is Steve Stonebraker, me!
The Belle Plaine fans, the English Valley fans, Hell everyone in that gym except for Iowa Valley was cheering for me. It was a surreal moment.
After what seemed like forever, the referee motioned us back to the mat. I walked out there feeling like a million bucks. I didn't have to see the numbers, I already knew I could cash in this ticket. Yet instead of blowing the whistle, he grabbed us both by the wrist. Then he raised Wade's hand.
My heart sunk. I guess without knowing it, I had locked my hands after one of the takedowns. I must have done it quickly, because the referee missed it. The Iowa Valley coaches saw it & when they showed the video to the official, he saw it too.
I lost 11-10, because I had locked my hands. No one to blame but me. It was my own fault.
Nevertheless, it was the only time in my career where I heard a chorus of boos after the match. I heard people screaming some very unfair obscenities at the referee. It made me feel bad for him. It wasn't his fault.
I shook Wade's hand and gave him a hug. He now had Lewis in a challenge match. I wished him the best of luck. I even shook the referee's hand. I could tell how flustered he was with so many people screaming at him. I wanted to let him know I wasn't angry with him. It was his job to call the match fairly. I think he did that. Who I WAS angry with, was myself.
I grabbed my clothes from my coach and walked to the locker room. I felt small. I felt unimportant. I felt like a loser. People came up to me and slapped me on the back.
"YOu got hosed Stonebraker!"
"That was bull Stonebraker!"
"You got screwed Stonebraker"
It was comforting in a weird way to have so many people on my side. People I didn't even know giving me their condolences. It was sorta cool, but truth is, they were wrong. I didn't get hosed or screwed. I just made the idiotic and stupid mistake of locking my hands.
I should have been a 2003 Sectional Runner-up and a 2003 District qualifier. That should be a credential I have on my resume, that I don't. Instead I finished 4th that day.
I took a long shower. No matter how much soap I used or how hard I scrubbed, I felt dirty. I owed a better performance to my coaches. I owed a better performance to my teammates and myself. It was one of the lowest feelings I felt in high school.
I had held it all in. Showing sportsmanship, humility and class was something that Coach Kirby and Coach Jarmes demanded. It was our #1 priority on the Sigourney Savage Wrestling team and something I took very seriously. Yet I had held it all in. As I walked out of the shower and sat down on the bench with my towel wrapped around my waste, I finally let it all go.
I sat with my head down, pointed at the ground and sobbed. I thought I was in that locker room all by myself. I was wrong. I wasn't alone. Someone else was in their with me.
"You raise that head up, you hear me? You raise that head up right now."
I looked up. It was Jack Smith. Sigourney's legendary coach from 1963-1988 who had lead our high school to multiple 2nd & 3rd place finishes at the state tournament.
"Coach Smith?" I was shocked to see him.
"You stop that crying. You got no reason to cry." He said to me. "If you lower your head again, I'm gonna come over there and pop you one under the chin."
He then told me that I may not have won a sectional title that day, but as far as he was concerned I was still a champion. I could have thrown a fit or acted like a hooligan, but instead I conducted myself with class. He said of all things, it was the most impressive thing he saw all tournament.
All these years later, it is still one of my most prized memories of my high school career. I don't have a medal to show from the 2003 sectional tournament. It's one of many tournaments that I went into with nothing and walked out with nothing...if we're talking physical things like bracket sheets and medals. Yet I did walk out with something that day. A memory that all these years later, I still cherish as much now as I did then.
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