University of Minnesota Athletics
Title Talk; Minnesota's 2002 Big Ten Championship Wrestling Team
3/18/2002 12:00:00 AM | Athletics
- It was one of those displays of dominance usually reserved for those ridiculous Harlem Globetrotters games versus the hapless Washington Generals. It was an exhibition of power you expect to see at a monster truck show, not a college wrestling tournament. It was Minnesota playing the role of the roadrunner to the rest of the Big Ten's Wile E. Coyote - except none of the other conference schools had rocket skates or giant rubber bands made by Acme Co. (A side note: where is this Acme Co. located and how can I get my hands on some Acme Spring-Powered Shoes? The coyote always had the coolest toys.)
- It reminded you of UCLA basketball in the 1960s and 70s, the Steelers in the 70s, the Yankees in the first half of the 20th century, the Canadiens in the 50s, 60s and 70s, and, oh yeah, Iowa wrestling in the 80s and 90s. J Robinson (and his staff) in 2002 was John Wooden in 1973, Phil Jackson in 1997, Vince Lombardi in 1963.and, I suppose, Dan Gable in 1983. While I'm at it, let's all stand up and give Joe Russell, Minnesota's nauseatingly nice assistant coach, a standing ovation. For countless reasons that will go unsaid, he wholeheartedly deserves it. (Ok, Russell, where's my 20 bucks?)
- It was an event reminiscent of, well, last year's Big Ten and NCAA tournaments - except the 2002 performance was all the more overwhelming than the prior year's. Minnesota's superiority knew no bounds. Gold Country's strength was unmatched. Its esolve.unflappable.
Perhaps a perfect example of that resolve came from sophomore Jacob Volkmann's bittersweet tournament. The quiet son of a pig farmer (that's not an insult, but an accurate description of the Henning, Minn., native) opened his first match at Big Tens with a purpose, building a 6-1 lead with gobs of riding time on Wisconsin's Brady Reinke. That was the sweet. Then, late in the third period, came the bitter. Volkmann got himself into a dehabilitating position - a position that turned a sure Minnesota major decision into a pin for Reinke. After the match, Jacob and the coaches chalked it up to a sudden case of the nerves. Whatever it was, the tide turned from Goldy to Bucky in an instant.
Volkmann could have packed it in and given up for the remainder of the tournament. But 'quit' isn't in the vocabulary of this man of few words. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, Volkmann stormed through the consolation bracket, posting four wins (including one fall and two major decisions) to take third place and qualify for his second NCAA tournament. I'm not allowed to publicly state the method used by Volkmann to rid himself of that nervous tension - not because it's rule-breaking, but because it would mean me being placed on Volkmann's list. And that's something nobody wants. Just ask Russell.
- It got to the point where you were truly shocked when a Golden Gopher didn't have his arm raised by the ref at the end of the match. As a Minnesota fan, your hands ached from all the clapping. It was almost boring. ALMOST. It was such a foregone conclusion that you sat there expecting everything to go Minnesota's way. The fact was, though, just about everything did go Minnesota's way. For the entire tournament, the Golden Gophers lost a grand total of six matches. Six! "Northwestern lost that many in the first hour," a Minnesota fan joked. In all, Minnesota went a stellar 31-6 in a tournament that some claim to be as tough or tougher than NCAAs.
- It was seeing Iowa fans leave empty-handed in the team race for the second consecutive year. And, oh, how those Iowa fans sprinted out of the building after the heavyweight match. One Minnesota fan quipped, "Nothing clears a room like Steve Mocco losing a match." (He lost his title bout to Ohio State's Tommy Rowlands via tiebreaker.)
Hawkeye fans will scoff. They'll say, "Well, yeah five champions is nice, but five is nuthin'. We had nine in 1983."
From the Minnesota point of view, though, the operative word in that statement is "had." Sure, having nine champions is impressive, but (forgive the overused cliché) that was then, this is now. Although it's much too early to label Minnesota as the next dynasty in collegiate wrestling (the Golden Gophers have won one NCAA title to Iowa's 20), what the Golden Gophers are doing on the mats proves that there's a new kid on the block. And he can play with the big boys. He's not going to be bullied around by the guys in the black and gold.
- It was Leroy Vega, the diminutive ironman at 125 pounds, allowing his opponent to stay within striking distance to ensure that the voices of his girlfriend, Sarah, and the rest of the Vega Fan Club would echo throughout Assembly Hall for hours after his match. My ears are still ringing from Sarah's incessant screams of "C'mon Leroy!!!!"
- It was Minnesota's top-ranked 133-pounder Ryan Lewis making his Big Ten opponents look like a pack of mild-mannered Girl Scouts. Is there any question this Utah native deserves his No. 1 ranking? And does he ever get winded? I swear, I have never seen Lewis breathing hard in a match. His resting heart rate must be a just a step above comatose.
- It was Chad Erikson proving that an elite 141-pounder can take over a month off from wrestling and return with impressive performances. It was also the memory of Erikson watching a group of University of Illinois students playing soccer and commenting, "They don't know a thing about pain."
- It was Luke Becker being Luke Becker. He put together one of those tournaments where you hardly noticed him because his matches were hardly ever in question. (Another side note: How does one develop the muscles that Becker has? I mean, this guy has muscles bulging in places that I didn't think were possible. What sort of bizarre training methods is Assistant Coach Mark Schwab employing to build such physical specimens?)
- It was first-year starter Nate Baker becoming the recipient of a stroke of good luck in a sort of twisted way. After losing to top-ranked Matt Lackey, Baker was to face Jason Bader of Indiana in the consolation round in a must-win to stay alive for a possible NCAA berth. Luck was with Baker and certainly not with Bader as the Hoosier pulled out of the tournament with a broken fibula (or tibia or fibia or nebula something. I dunno.).
- It was Killer (Volkmann). 'Nuff said.
- It was Damion Hahn getting the proverbial monkey off his back and winning the 184-pound Big Ten title by defeating the No. 2 and No. 1 ranked wrestlers in successive matches. For the Minnesota coaches, watching him wrestle a stellar tournament was a great feeling. They knew what Hahn was capable of, and it was nice to see those expectations met.
- It was Owen Elzen winning what may turn out to be a huge championship match at 197 pounds, not only because it earned him his first individual crown, but because it will likely mean that Elzen will not have to face the not-of-this-world Cael Sanderson of Iowa State until the finals of NCAAs.
- It was heavyweight Garrett Lowney going back for seconds (thirds?) at team meals with numerous dirty looks and stink-eyes from his teammates who, in order to make weight, sometimes eat the equivalent of a Kate-Moss-on-a-diet meal.
- It was Head Assistant Coach Marty Morgan doing his best Mafioso impression in hopes of scaring the bejesus out of the referees to sway the calls in favor of the Golden Gophers. Is there anything more intimidating than an angry Marty Morgan? I don't think so.
- It was some wrestlers challenging Joe Russell and J Robinson to race in Illinois' wrestling room in a battle of the limps. For the record, J wouldn't race, but if he had, the "sprint" would have gone down as a legendary moment in Minnesota wrestling lore. Russell did "run," though. And I can't get the image out of my head of him rumbling, bumbling, stumbling down and back on the orange and blue mats. (Trainer Nate Houska was present at all times.)
- It was Minnesota fans cheering for any wrestler that wasn't wearing the Hawkeye logo. The distaste of the Iowa black and gold runs so deep as to even support the red and white of Minnesota's other arch-rival, Wisconsin.
- It was wrestling secretary Matthew Lipschultz, the mat aides and countless other die-hard Minnesota fans (especially those boisterous young ladies in the second row) chanting "Let's go Gophers!" until they were blue in the face.
- It was all this and more. (That's the best thing I can come up with to finish this column. My apologies to Ms. Fogelman, my 10th grade composition teacher.) Ok, I'll let the Minnesota wrestlers and coaches summarize in their own words.
"When I came to Minnesota, I wanted to be on a team that was working for one thing - a team that was going to be a national championship team," Hahn said. "Now we're proving it."
"Jared Lawrence said it best," Hahn added. "The dynasty of wrestling is going to be through our program."
Written by Men's Athletics Wrestling Contact Kevin Kurtt
The 2002 Big Ten Wrestling Championships was a lot of things for those who saw the top-ranked University of Minnesota Golden Gophers run away with a 45-point team victory. [If the following column comes across as pompous or cocky, tough. I'm going to be a homer. So bear with me as I gush over the greatness that is Minnesota wrestling.]
- It was one of those displays of dominance usually reserved for those ridiculous Harlem Globetrotters games versus the hapless Washington Generals. It was an exhibition of power you expect to see at a monster truck show, not a college wrestling tournament. It was Minnesota playing the role of the roadrunner to the rest of the Big Ten's Wile E. Coyote - except none of the other conference schools had rocket skates or giant rubber bands made by Acme Co. (A side note: where is this Acme Co. located and how can I get my hands on some Acme Spring-Powered Shoes? The coyote always had the coolest toys.)
- It reminded you of UCLA basketball in the 1960s and 70s, the Steelers in the 70s, the Yankees in the first half of the 20th century, the Canadiens in the 50s, 60s and 70s, and, oh yeah, Iowa wrestling in the 80s and 90s. J Robinson (and his staff) in 2002 was John Wooden in 1973, Phil Jackson in 1997, Vince Lombardi in 1963.and, I suppose, Dan Gable in 1983. While I'm at it, let's all stand up and give Joe Russell, Minnesota's nauseatingly nice assistant coach, a standing ovation. For countless reasons that will go unsaid, he wholeheartedly deserves it. (Ok, Russell, where's my 20 bucks?)
- It was an event reminiscent of, well, last year's Big Ten and NCAA tournaments - except the 2002 performance was all the more overwhelming than the prior year's. Minnesota's superiority knew no bounds. Gold Country's strength was unmatched. Its esolve.unflappable.
Perhaps a perfect example of that resolve came from sophomore Jacob Volkmann's bittersweet tournament. The quiet son of a pig farmer (that's not an insult, but an accurate description of the Henning, Minn., native) opened his first match at Big Tens with a purpose, building a 6-1 lead with gobs of riding time on Wisconsin's Brady Reinke. That was the sweet. Then, late in the third period, came the bitter. Volkmann got himself into a dehabilitating position - a position that turned a sure Minnesota major decision into a pin for Reinke. After the match, Jacob and the coaches chalked it up to a sudden case of the nerves. Whatever it was, the tide turned from Goldy to Bucky in an instant.
Volkmann could have packed it in and given up for the remainder of the tournament. But 'quit' isn't in the vocabulary of this man of few words. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, Volkmann stormed through the consolation bracket, posting four wins (including one fall and two major decisions) to take third place and qualify for his second NCAA tournament. I'm not allowed to publicly state the method used by Volkmann to rid himself of that nervous tension - not because it's rule-breaking, but because it would mean me being placed on Volkmann's list. And that's something nobody wants. Just ask Russell.
- It got to the point where you were truly shocked when a Golden Gopher didn't have his arm raised by the ref at the end of the match. As a Minnesota fan, your hands ached from all the clapping. It was almost boring. ALMOST. It was such a foregone conclusion that you sat there expecting everything to go Minnesota's way. The fact was, though, just about everything did go Minnesota's way. For the entire tournament, the Golden Gophers lost a grand total of six matches. Six! "Northwestern lost that many in the first hour," a Minnesota fan joked. In all, Minnesota went a stellar 31-6 in a tournament that some claim to be as tough or tougher than NCAAs.
- It was seeing Iowa fans leave empty-handed in the team race for the second consecutive year. And, oh, how those Iowa fans sprinted out of the building after the heavyweight match. One Minnesota fan quipped, "Nothing clears a room like Steve Mocco losing a match." (He lost his title bout to Ohio State's Tommy Rowlands via tiebreaker.)
Hawkeye fans will scoff. They'll say, "Well, yeah five champions is nice, but five is nuthin'. We had nine in 1983."
From the Minnesota point of view, though, the operative word in that statement is "had." Sure, having nine champions is impressive, but (forgive the overused cliché) that was then, this is now. Although it's much too early to label Minnesota as the next dynasty in collegiate wrestling (the Golden Gophers have won one NCAA title to Iowa's 20), what the Golden Gophers are doing on the mats proves that there's a new kid on the block. And he can play with the big boys. He's not going to be bullied around by the guys in the black and gold.
- It was Leroy Vega, the diminutive ironman at 125 pounds, allowing his opponent to stay within striking distance to ensure that the voices of his girlfriend, Sarah, and the rest of the Vega Fan Club would echo throughout Assembly Hall for hours after his match. My ears are still ringing from Sarah's incessant screams of "C'mon Leroy!!!!"
- It was Minnesota's top-ranked 133-pounder Ryan Lewis making his Big Ten opponents look like a pack of mild-mannered Girl Scouts. Is there any question this Utah native deserves his No. 1 ranking? And does he ever get winded? I swear, I have never seen Lewis breathing hard in a match. His resting heart rate must be a just a step above comatose.
- It was Chad Erikson proving that an elite 141-pounder can take over a month off from wrestling and return with impressive performances. It was also the memory of Erikson watching a group of University of Illinois students playing soccer and commenting, "They don't know a thing about pain."
- It was Luke Becker being Luke Becker. He put together one of those tournaments where you hardly noticed him because his matches were hardly ever in question. (Another side note: How does one develop the muscles that Becker has? I mean, this guy has muscles bulging in places that I didn't think were possible. What sort of bizarre training methods is Assistant Coach Mark Schwab employing to build such physical specimens?)
- It was first-year starter Nate Baker becoming the recipient of a stroke of good luck in a sort of twisted way. After losing to top-ranked Matt Lackey, Baker was to face Jason Bader of Indiana in the consolation round in a must-win to stay alive for a possible NCAA berth. Luck was with Baker and certainly not with Bader as the Hoosier pulled out of the tournament with a broken fibula (or tibia or fibia or nebula something. I dunno.).
- It was Killer (Volkmann). 'Nuff said.
- It was Damion Hahn getting the proverbial monkey off his back and winning the 184-pound Big Ten title by defeating the No. 2 and No. 1 ranked wrestlers in successive matches. For the Minnesota coaches, watching him wrestle a stellar tournament was a great feeling. They knew what Hahn was capable of, and it was nice to see those expectations met.
- It was Owen Elzen winning what may turn out to be a huge championship match at 197 pounds, not only because it earned him his first individual crown, but because it will likely mean that Elzen will not have to face the not-of-this-world Cael Sanderson of Iowa State until the finals of NCAAs.
- It was heavyweight Garrett Lowney going back for seconds (thirds?) at team meals with numerous dirty looks and stink-eyes from his teammates who, in order to make weight, sometimes eat the equivalent of a Kate-Moss-on-a-diet meal.
- It was Head Assistant Coach Marty Morgan doing his best Mafioso impression in hopes of scaring the bejesus out of the referees to sway the calls in favor of the Golden Gophers. Is there anything more intimidating than an angry Marty Morgan? I don't think so.
- It was some wrestlers challenging Joe Russell and J Robinson to race in Illinois' wrestling room in a battle of the limps. For the record, J wouldn't race, but if he had, the "sprint" would have gone down as a legendary moment in Minnesota wrestling lore. Russell did "run," though. And I can't get the image out of my head of him rumbling, bumbling, stumbling down and back on the orange and blue mats. (Trainer Nate Houska was present at all times.)
- It was Minnesota fans cheering for any wrestler that wasn't wearing the Hawkeye logo. The distaste of the Iowa black and gold runs so deep as to even support the red and white of Minnesota's other arch-rival, Wisconsin.
- It was wrestling secretary Matthew Lipschultz, the mat aides and countless other die-hard Minnesota fans (especially those boisterous young ladies in the second row) chanting "Let's go Gophers!" until they were blue in the face.
- It was all this and more. (That's the best thing I can come up with to finish this column. My apologies to Ms. Fogelman, my 10th grade composition teacher.) Ok, I'll let the Minnesota wrestlers and coaches summarize in their own words.
"When I came to Minnesota, I wanted to be on a team that was working for one thing - a team that was going to be a national championship team," Hahn said. "Now we're proving it."
"Jared Lawrence said it best," Hahn added. "The dynasty of wrestling is going to be through our program."
Written by Men's Athletics Wrestling Contact Kevin Kurtt
