News Page
Female wrestler will continue her dream in Athens
June 30, SI MAGAZINE
When Patricia Miranda first took up wrestling, in the eighth grade, the opposition seemed to come at her from everywhere. Traditionalists suggested she opt for cheerleading -- throwing pompoms instead of people, chanting instead of grunting, kicking her feet up instead of kicking someone else's feet out. Since there weren't other girls to compete against, she took on the unladylike challenge of wrestling against boys.
This was too much for certain people. Miranda would arrive at competitions only to find that someone had scratched her name off the official entry sheets. When it was her turn to wrestle, a meet director would tell her, "Sorry, you've been withdrawn."
Who would be so cruel as to sneak into the gym under cloak of high-collared jacket, pull the felt-tip pen from his pocket, and then slink out to the parking lot without announcing himself? Turns out it was always the same naysayer, with the same rationale. But at least Miranda knew where the culprit lived. It wasn't easy, however, arguing with her father, Jose. "He would do anything to keep me from wrestling," Patricia, 24, said after securing a spot on the team that will compete at the world championships this fall in New York. "It wasn't really a gender thing with him either," Miranda said. "He just thought it wasn't the place for his daughter to spend her time when she could be getting an education."
In order to get even grudging blessing for her passion for grappling, Miranda had to make a deal with Jose, a doctor in San Jose, Calif. If her grades fell below a 4.0 -- or straight-A -- averageat Saratoga High School, her wrestling had to stop for good.
Jose figured she might give it up. Competing exclusively against boys, Patricia had to overcome the jitters of her early confrontations. "The first match I was too scared to move," she recalled. "I clammed up. The other guy pounded on me and I just screamed." After that inauspicious debut, she thrived. Miranda maintained her 4.0 average. She was named captain of the Saratoga High wrestling team and won roughly half her high school matches.
Still, she had limited opportunities to compete in college -- only 3,000 females are registered in organized wrestling programs nationwide and only six universities field women's teams. Miranda was accepted at Stanford, where she wrestled and graduated Phi Beta Kappa with a 3.84 GPA, earning a bachelor's in economics and a master's in international relations.
On the mat, Miranda practiced with the guys -- Stanford doesn't have a women's team -- but rarely cracked the team's lineup. At an even 5 feet tall, she kept a natural weight of no more than 110 pounds, even though the lightest weight class maxed out at 125. Miranda could have used the Freshman 15, the proverbial weight gain many first-year college students pack on?. But she had trouble keeping weight on. Entering her fifth year as a Cardinal, including her redshirt season, she had recorded one victory by default and pinned a female opponent, but she did not beat a male foe until an early-season match against a wrestler from Clackamas Community College in Oregon.
That same season, the IOC announced it was adding women's wrestling as a medal sport at the 2004 Olympics. "When I heard about it, I was still finishing my college career," Miranda said. "So much of my wrestling was built around the goal of beating guys; now I had this amazing opportunity not only to compete in the Olympics, but to do something for women athletes."
Again, Miranda had to assuage her father. She was accepted into Yale Law School but decided to put her academic life on hold to train with the newly formed women's national team at the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs. "My dad was really unhappy I put off school," said Miranda, 24, "but I convinced him to travel to Athens if I make the team. He doesn't come to my matches. It'll be something new for him."
Pro wrestling -- but not like you think
For years, the words professional wrestling have conjured images of exposed turnbuckles, sleeper holds, and preordained outcomes involving heroes, villains and self-important promoters. Good choreography or cheap theater? It doesn't matter to actual wrestlers such as Bruce Baumgartner, John Smith or Rulon Gardner, who could flatten every Hulk, Giant and any other übermuscled pretender within cauliflower-ear shot. But keep an eye out in the next few days for an announcement about a television show called Real Pro Wrestling that likely will appear as four one-hour shows on a recognizable network. The pilot was shot in Los Angeles last October and involved team competition among the country's top wrestlers. If all goes well, the idea, which has the blessing of USA Wrestling and is independently funded by a former wrestler named Toby Willis, should evolve into a league with eight or more teams in major cities sometime after the Athens Olympics.
Real Pro Wrestling would be similar to a pro league in Germany, with a four- to six-month season likely running in the winter. Wrestlers would be drafted, earn a salary and share in the league's profits. Team scoring would be based on cumulative points, keeping interest level high in, say, a 6-0 match. To boost scoring, wrestlers would be penalized one point for going off the mat, regardless of the reason, so they would be less likely to play the edge of the mat for strategic reasons. Freestyle and Greco-Roman athletes could compete against each other, with the rules of freestyle applying when the wrestlers are on their feet, and Greco rules in effect when wrestlers are on the mat.
Sports Illustrated staff writer Brian Cazeneuve covers Olympic sports for the magazine and is a regular contributor to SI.com.
"Greco-Roman is a legal street fight -- and you've done plenty of those."