As I sat in the airport with Cyler Sanderson, a young man who has grown near and dear to our family, I couldn’t help recalling a situation involving him and his brother Cody that made me know our wrestling program would become one of the jewels in Penn State’s crown again.
Cyler is leaving for two years on a mission for the Church of Latter Day Saints, and part of the reason we have grown close to him is because one can see a bright light in this young man. Young men like Cyler (and, yes, his brothers—to me, they are quite young) give me great hope that this nation’s best day is still ahead of us. My wife and I are both saddened because Cyler has been over to the house quite a bit, and my kids see what a great guy he is, and it rubs off. In any case, there I was, sitting next to him, so I told him a story.
He had just beaten the No. 2-ranked wrestler in the nation in an exciting match, but the last 20 seconds the guy was trying to turn him, and Cyler did not get off the bottom. In spite of his winning, this did not please his coach at all. In fact, I was standing next to his coach (Cody), and he was upset about the end of the match.
Some 30 years before, I can remember one of our wrestlers coming off the mat after pounding a guy. He gave up a last-second takedown, but still won a 12-4 major decision.
Coach Bill Koll showed his displeasure loudly, visibly and immediately in front of the crowd at Rec Hall. He was not being malicious. To Coach Koll, it was just him and his wrestlers. The spectators really didn’t matter until after the match was over. If you’ve ever watched Coach Koll and the way he was on the bench, always moving around and wrestling the match in his seat, you can understand that the crowd was the last thing on his mind.
What he was upset about was what Cody was upset about: The object is to fight all the time, and you don’t let someone win any part of the fight. The idea that you fight all the time—defend nothing to conquer everything—was drilled into us, not in words, but by actions. Cody did not say anything in front of the crowd, but I quickly picked up what he was about. When I told Cyler this, he smiled, and in his usual understated way said: ‘Yeah, I know.’
Such lessons aren’t taught in classrooms. When I look back at it, it was a re-enforcement of lessons taught by my parents. And it stuck. Like many great things in life, there is no plan, or design; it just is what it is, because of the character of the people who are leading.
Last year in a column, I opined that the rise of this program was going to be very quick, and it’s because of some bigger things going on here than just winning a match. When you have something bigger in mind, so much that it’s second nature to you, it rubs off on people around you. These are men on a mission. While it may delight the fan and administration that the result of this mission may be a No. 1 ranking, that is not the mission itself. The mission is to step up all the time. There are no peaks, just places reached to step up even higher. The wrestling is just a start, for after wrestling you will take the mission with you.
But this is not something that is ever verbalized. So often in life, the greatest lessons are learned only by actions. The willingness to think with one’s head, and pursue with one’s heart. And such things are never ‘safe.’ Playing it safe will simply get you to the ground you covered. Cyler Sanderson, like his brothers, and like those willing to do what it takes to be part of this experience, are on a mission. One that will demand them to step up well after they leave here, to challenge themselves. It’s infectious, and if you buy into it, you never lose it. It will always be there to push you.
There is no lecture, or great magic moment that reveals this. The only way you can tell is by actions. The shot taken when the match is almost over—just to see if you can score again. The move from one’s alma mater, where your status as legend who can do no wrong was always assured, to the uncertainty of another area of the country you visited only when wrestling. That’s Cael.
Cody started his own program at Utah Valley State, in his home state. He could have played it safe. The expectations were not that high, but he threw in with his brother, not to ride his coattails, but because he knew the challenges that were there.
Casey Cunningham probably could have stayed around his alma mater (central Michigan), eventually coached there, but he accepted the challenge to coach with these guys.
Yeah, it all looks so easy now, right? Penn State is winning; the crowd loves it. But realize this: If all involved—from the trainers to guys who have not been in the line-up to the coaches—weren’t willing to step up, it’s a different outcome. Nothing is assured in life; only by risking going too far can one ever figure out how far one can go.
In any case, Cyler’s flight had been moved back, and his brothers were not at the airport (the Pitt match was in an hour). But Rich Puleo, a Penn State teammate of mine back in the ’70s, and I were, ’cause we love this kid. Like me, Rich sees hope for this country in kids like this. Cyler, like his brothers, is kind of quiet. As Rich and I were talking non-stop to (at) each other (Puleo is tough; he can talk as much as me, or more), Cyler was laughing. He said we were like two old Italian guys who won’t let the other get a word in edgewise. Out of the mouth of babes comes the truth, right? All Rich and I needed was the bocce ball set or some horseshoes, and it’s Sunday in the park.
But it comes full circle to the opening: another man on a mission, but one that is a level above wrestling. It’s hard going out there for two years. Our soldiers do it and they are heroes to me. Cyler knows he is going to face some very, very tough times in a land far from his own, but he is stepping up because he is tough enough, and believes enough, and will work hard enough, to take on the challenges posed by many unknowns. What greater sport to prepare for that than wrestling?
I still think Cyler has a shot to wrestle down the road at 165 for the U.S. He is quick, slick, and already strong, but has not fully tapped into some of the nutrition and strength ideas yet, so can grow.
When we told our kids Cyler was going on a mission and would be away for two years, Jessie, our 12-year -old gymnast said: ‘Oh, that’s good. He is serving God, and it means we can go to the Olympics together when he gets back.” Leave it to Jessie to think of things like that.
But there was young Cyler, going on a mission. And I guess I got a little emotional ’cause I like the kid. Plus, my son Garrett looks a little like him. I started thinking, what’s going to happen when Garrett goes away? Will Garrett be able to face questions he can’t answer, but will have to? Heck, I wonder that about myself all the time. Are we doing the things to get him, and Jessie, ready? My dad used to say you won’t know what responsibility is until you have a kid and, as always, he was right. That is a mission, too.
We call Cyler our red-headed stepchild, so I guess I can get a little choked up. But he is simply doing what he is made to do. In going on this mission, he is laboring in what he knows to be the ultimate vineyard, and he is willing to give everything he has. And I am sure that there won’t be any doubt in this pursuit. He went as hard as he could, as long as he could, because in things like this, character matters. He has certainly been exposed to it from his upbringing as a child, through his career here. And I guess in looking at the rest of the trees in the Sanderson orchard, one wouldn’t expect anything different.
It’s what I think this program is all about: the willingness to do what it takes to face questions you don’t know the answer to, but are willing to push and try to find out. Cyler is already taking a step up from wrestling, but he will use the lessons he has learned to help him with this new challenge.
That Penn State wrestling may be winning national titles along the way may make the fans and the administration happy, but I have a feeling a lot of the guys wrestling here will see that as a bonus to a more valuable lesson learned, one that will help them in higher callings years from now, in ways they cannot even imagine right now. I thank God I had the people around who taught those lessons, not by design, but because that is what they are all about.
I realize the wrestling hire was to bring a national title back to Penn State. Whether Penn State knows it or not, it is getting a heck of a lot more.
