COLUMN: Want to escape from the way sports have become? It’s simple.

Andrew Marshall

Sometimes, it’s the simple things in life that are the most worthwhile. Unfortunately, it’s hard to keep things simple forever. Eventually, addition timed tests give way to differential equation midterms. Saving money to buy baseball cards after school turns into hoarding nickels and dimes to keep the landlord happy. And things that seemed to start out so uncluttered and pure can begin to get ugly.

Even collegiate sports, which have the reputation of being the bright-eyed and innocent younger brother of the greedier and seedier professional sports landscape, seem to have taken a turn for the worse recently. Around the country, stories of shady coaches and morally bankrupt athletes have sullied the cleaner-cut image the NCAA has worked to present. It’s enough to make some sports fans wonder where they can turn to find competition that has been stripped down to its simplest and most untarnished form.

Luckily, for more than 89,000 fans, this type of action was right down the road in Des Moines over the weekend.

The Iowa State Wrestling Tournament, the largest state wrestling tournament in the nation, wrapped up on Saturday night by crowning 42 individual champions and offering all the entertainment and inspiration that could be crammed into

venerable old Veterans’ Auditorium.

Do you want to see courage? Dubuque Senior’s Dan Klavitter fought his way through the field of the best 103-pound wrestlers in Iowa to come away with a runner-up finish in Saturday night’s finals. He took the mat in front of a throng of rabid fans and competed valiantly before losing a 10-5 decision. He also does not have legs. That’s like taking away Muhammad Ali’s fists and throwing him in the ring with Joe Frazier. Klavitter, who left the tournament with a black eye and a silver medal in tow, never once used his disability as an excuse. Because of the courage he showed, he never had to.

Do you want to see emotion? Atlantic 215-pounder Tyler Blum, who wrestled with a scowl that could make a Marine shift in his seat, suddenly had a smile wider than the gap in Michael Strahan’s teeth when he jumped into his coach’s arms following his finals victory. Matt Fields, an Iowa recruit who looks as if he has had bowling balls surgically implanted into his arms, beamed like a 6-year-old boy who had just gotten a bike for his birthday. On the other side of the coin, losing wrestlers throughout the tournament cried like pre-teen girls who just heard that Brad Pitt was engaged. Competitors who had become so physically and

mentally tough from a year of bloody noses and missed meals broke down in a way that makes even rival fans want to comfort them.

Do you want to see community? Fans from map-dot towns like Osage and Riverside and conglomerate schools with names like MFL-MarMac and Interstate 35 (Truro) showed up in such numbers that entire towns practically shut down for the week. Businesses closed and classes were canceled as towns’ entire populations packed Vets Auditorium and screamed for their boys until their faces were blue enough to match the school colors on their sweatshirts. Cheerleaders pounded the mats, and fans studied the bracket sheets like the winning Powerball numbers were hidden somewhere between the lines. And when the local boy from the town of 75 in central Iowa won the state title, no one sitting in Section 27 had a care in the world.

Do you want to see family? Brothers Mitch and Matt Norton of Nashua-Plainfield used all the skills they had developed wrestling each other over the years to represent their family and town by making it to the state finals. Clear Lake’s Nick Weber got to jump into his father’s arms after winning the160-pound state title, and when Eric Hoffman of Davenport North lost in the finals, his father consoled him — both men were also the wrestlers’ coaches.

Do you want to see sportsmanship? All 672 state qualifiers shook hands before and after each match, regardless of the outcome. Andy Schmitt of Clear Lake looked past his own crushed dreams to congratulate his opponent after losing his state title bout. Council Bluffs star Brandon Mason reached out his hand and helped his finals opponent to his feet just seconds after pinning him.

The Iowa State Wrestling Tournament, which is a credit to the state and to sports in general, is an example of what competition should be like. The wrestlers are not lured by fame, money or strippers. They wrestle for the pride of their towns and for themselves. Still, it’s a simple

type of competition that can’t quite contend with the scope or glamour of collegiate or pro sports.

But sometimes, it’s the simple things in life that are the most worthwhile.