Sidelines
Putting Hawaii on the mat
Lee heads to mainland carrying
the hopes of Hawaii's wrestlersSee full story, with photo
A million things were wizzing through his mind. A million moves. A million scenarios.His coaches leaned in, offering last-second advice, but it was already too late. The zone was closing in. "I hear them," Travis Lee said. "But I'm not sure if I'm receiving any of it."
His mind raced. In a second, his body would take over, but now he had things to think about. He was sore, his body hurt. He'd been wrestling nonstop for days, and he'd been watching his weight for even longer. His opponent had never lost a high school match. Never, not in 210 tries. But Lee knew the guy was beatable. And ideas now sped through his brain like bullets.
In a second, he would be released from this, from the thinking and the chaos and the pain, and none of that would matter. He would wrestle, and it would all fall into place.
"Just six more minutes of your life," Lee told himself.
Lee smiles at the memory. His eyes grow a little wider, his heart beats a little faster.
He had done it.
He had put Hawaii wrestling on the map.
IT'S NOT EASY being a pioneer. Lee had won three state titles for St. Louis School in his Hawaii prep career, but it didn't seem to matter. Nobody noticed. Few people called.
Lee wrote schools. His coaches put together videos. It didn't work. This guy's record was impressive. But he was out there in Hawaii. How good could he be?
"They didn't really look at me before," Lee said. "They didn't really respond."
But Cornell did. This was no Iowa. No Iowa State, Oklahoma, Okie State or Minnesota. Cornell doesn't even win its conference. But it was Division I. And the Ivy League. Cornell isn't easy to get into, and that degree looks awful good on the wall.
And they wanted him.
So he signed. He signed on the dotted line. It had been a great visit and a nice school and the coach was chasing him hard. He might major in mechanical engineering. He's brave enough to say it out loud now -- he might even shoot for the Olympics.
HE WON. He won that match. He got through the fatigue. He found his focus. He beat the unbeatable foe with a 3-1 win for the national championship. His second national junior wrestling title in three days. He had the Greco-Roman title. Then the Freestyle was his as well. In North Dakota's Fargodome, Travis Lee's name was circulating around the 23 mats.
Soon the coaches showed up, everywhere, finding Lee's coaches and shaking hands and making conversation. People who had never bothered to pay attention before were now saying, "Here's my card. Give me a call." But it was too late. They were just too late.
Cornell had gotten there first, and Lee is perfectly happy that they did.
But he had done it. He'd broken through, grabbed their attention. Lee's coach, Todd Los Banos, had said at every opportunity that it would take a mainland tournament for Lee to show the world what he could do, that there is wrestling in Hawaii.
There is less competition here, and fewer camps, and no college team for inspiration. This is no Iowa. No Pennsylvania. It isn't Oklahoma. No, not by a long way.
But Los Banos was right. Lee was the best in the country. A national champion. Twice.
He put Hawaii wrestling on the map. He is a pioneer.
A LOT OF THINGS are going through Travis Lee's head. So many things. It's all hitting him at once. A million moves. A million scenarios. He has to make arrangements and open accounts, and register for classes. He has to get winter clothes. He has to leave home. He has to wrestle. And he has to be great.
People try to give him advice. He listens, but he's not always sure if he's receiving any of it.
"I'm kind of in shock," he said. "Everything is going by so fast."
But he smiles and he's not worried. It's a nice, warm little nervousness. It's been like this before every big match. Before every success.
Travis Lee is off to Cornell.
He carries the hopes of Hawaii's wrestlers with him.
Kalani Simpson's column runs Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays.
He can be reached at ksimpson@starbulletin.com