For pretty much all his life, Kyle Gilchrist had been Leroy Brown on the wrestling mat.You know, the baddest young man in the whole dang town.

Imagine then, what he must have felt upon arriving on the campus of Columbia University in New York and he got into the wrestling room at the prestigious Ivy League institution.

“Yeah, it was an eye-opening experience for me,” he said with a laugh. “I definitely had some dues to pay.

“To say I had to take some lumps would be an understatement.”

Remember, though, when it comes to guys like Kyle Gilchrist, “take some lumps” is all relative.

To those of us who aren’t blessed with tremendous God-given ability, mixed with an even greater helping of a maniacal work ethic and off-the-charts support from family and friends, that would mean pretty much getting our butt kicked on an everyday basis.

To special athletes such as Gilchrist, though, that means what amounted to pretty much a break-even freshman season for the Lions, one that included a 12-11 record at his weight class, 125 pounds.

To the normal young man, posting a .500 record at a Division I university as a freshman, not to mention making the grade on the arduous workload that accompanies being privileged to earn an opportunity to receive an Ivy League education, would be just fine.

That wasn’t the case of the son of Iain and Debbi Gilchrist, though. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough.

“I had to work harder,” he said. “That’s what last year meant. That’s what it proved to me.

“That season last year showed me how much more I needed to do to become successful.

“I had to find more to give.”



No shortcuts

With those thoughts in mind, Gilchrist spent his summer working wrestling camps, lifting weights and running.

Not to mention, the ever-present challenge of maintaining the strict diet that competitors at his elite level must adhere to.

All his sweat and hard work in the summer paid off. When he arrived back on the Columbia campus last fall, Gilchrist’s body was ready.

More importantly, though, his mind was, too.

“Our practices are pretty intense,” he said by telephone from his dorm. “It’s two hours of pretty much non-stop work. We really go at it and we do a ton of live wrestling.

“But I went into it differently this year. I had a much better idea of what to expect.”

The results were there for Gilchrist, who was one of four freshmen to appear in coach Brendan Buckley’s lineup on a consistent basis the season before.

Armed with a year of Division I competition, multiplied by an offseason of hard work, Gilchrist had a terrific sophomore season for the Lions this winter.

“The big difference between high school wrestling and college is the pure physicality of it,” he said.

In layman’s terms, Kyle?

“Trying to maintain pressure on my opponent at all times,” he said. “To not let a single scoring opportunity go to waste.”

He led the Lions with 24 victories, coming in 34 decisions. And though he lost 10 matches, he never had his shoulders put to the mat.

Always soft-spoken and self-effacing, even Gilchrist admits the fact he led his squad in victories came as a surprise to him.

“We had so many excellent wrestlers, guys who’ve had great careers and had big seasons here this year,” he said. “I’ve got to admit, I never expected (to lead the team in wins).

“It was probably just luck it worked out that way.”

Somehow, one gets the idea luck had absolutely nothing to do with it.



A long road

Mapquest says the point where from Gilchrist spent countless hours between four padded windowless walls — the wrestling room at the old Falcon Gym — to the Columbia campus is 441 miles.

But in terms of what must be done to achieve success, it might as well be light years.

“I thought I had worked hard during high school,” Gilchrist said. “At least it seemed that way.

“Then, when I arrived here and went into the wrestling room, I learned what hard work really was. I did that because I saw what all the upperclassmen did and realized what I hadn’t done.”

And it showed in his results. As he put it, “taking some lumps.”

“It burned... it stung, I admit,” he said. “I’m a competitor and I really, really hate to lose.”

Fourteen losses might not seem like a losing season. But again, with someone the caliber of Gilchrist, it’s all relative.

At Jefferson, Gilchrist came out on the short end of outcomes less than 10 times... in four years.

“It wasn’t something I wanted to get used to, or accept,” he admitted. “But once the season was over, there was nothing I could do to change it.”

What he did do, though, was get back to work.

The case was the same in the classroom, too.

At Jefferson, he was a valedictorian in a class of 193 with a perfect 4.0 grade-point average.

However, Falcon Country isn’t the Ivy League. He wasn’t in Kansas anymore, Toto.

“There’s more busy work in high school, actually,” Gilchrist, a history major, said with a laugh. “But, boy! The difference in terms or problem sets here and what I had in high school... it’s hard to even describe.

“Here, I might have only one or two problems to work on. But they can take days... a week. It’s something that takes a lot of effort.”

Translation — much more thought being put into it?

“Absolutely, without question,” he said. “There’s not as much to do in terms of the amount of things, but it’s much more difficult.”

Not surprisingly, Gilchrist is making the grade... literally, at Columbia, too.

He’s carrying a 3.3 GPA. Never satisfied, though, he’s striving for more.

“Hopefully, that will be going up a bit,” he said. “I’m trying to improve.”



Nose, meet grindstone

Improving is just what Gilchrist has in mind before he heads back to New York next August, too.

Another summer working camps, putting himself through tortuous workouts and strict diet is how he plans to spend his summer.

“I’m not satisfied,” he said. “There’s more I want to accomplish and I know I have more to give.

“There’s more I can do.”

Such as?

“Well,” he said, pausing for a few seconds. “Train even harder. Pretty much the same things I’ve always done, just more of it. More running, more lifting, more working out.”

Some vacation.

“Yeah, I know,” he said through a laugh. “But it’s what it takes. Before last year, I didn’t know what it took. Now, I do.

“I know what needs to be done.”

Which he admits will result in him moving up from the 125-pound weight class.

“It was a struggle to get there many times,” he said. “But truth is, a lot of us were in the same boat. We were all cutting weight.”

Which led to some tense moments on the practice mats.

“You could say that,” he said with another laugh. “We were a group of really grumpy guys. We weren’t fun to be around.”

Don’t think for a second moving up in weight will be a result in Gilchrist chowing down on Doritos, nachos and pizza, though.

“I wish!” he said, breaking out in laughter again. “But I struggled to stay at 125 and with what I plan to do this summer, hopefully, I’ll be adding some more muscle.

“I expect I’ll be at 133, maybe even at 141. We’ll have to see how it works out.”



Comfort zone

Gilchrist is the first to say how fortunate... “lucky,” as he puts it, he is.

Especially when it comes to his support system. Getting him to talk about himself is no simple task. For a reporter, it’s akin to one of his workouts.

Getting him to open up about those around him, though, is no problem. He’s never changed. It’s the whole leopard-spots, thing.

“My parents... my family... my friends... I can’t imagine doing all this and going through everything without them,” Gilchrist said. “My parents are incredible. I know how lucky I am to have so much support. Everyone has always been so amazing for me. I know, no matter what, they’re always there for me. I’ll always have home.

“They are the people who make everything I do possible. They are the reason I am where I am... why I am who I am.

“I’m so blessed.”



McCormack is the sports editor of the Star Beacon. Reach him at donmac@suite224.net.