Second Place Champion

There is nothing like seeing both of your children sprinting to their daddy's arms when he walks through the door. And seeing the smile on Norm's face and the brightness in his eyes is like a double scoop of mint chip ice cream.

When the homecoming reunion subsided, the brightness in Norm's eyes faded to sadness. Drew lost in the finals. It was a close match, maybe one he should have won, maybe not. But either way, it was extremely painful for Norm to watch his eighteen year old nephew lose a match that seemed like the culmination of all Drew's hard work.

Drew is heading to Cal Poly SLO on a wrestling scholarship. He is at the beginning of a new chapter of his life, as a man and as a wrestler. But when you are in high school and when your family is there and when you are ranked number 1, losing seems like a horrible end to an era.

Wrestling is a very intense sport. It is 6 minutes where you can can lift, maneuver, pin, flip - who knows what else - to beat your opponent. 6 minutes where only you can decide whether you or your opponent will walk away with the W.

I can't imagine the pressure. I can't imagine the thrill. I can't imagine the aftermath when you lose a state title. But I can imagine the heartache of a teenager when life doesn't go exactly as planned.

I won't try to equate my battle with cancer at 19 to the loss of a state championship. But the shock, disappointment and pain are equally overwhelming to young teenagers accustomed to things going their way.

Based on the work Drew put in, he deserved that title. He deserved for things to go the way they should have. But they didn't. And unfortunately, they often don't.

Drew is the boy you want your daughter to date and the young man you hope your son becomes. He is a good kid, with a good heart, and a work ethic that is inherent in the Dunne DNA. He is a champion. He's the type of kid that should win. At everything.

I was shocked at my own sadness over the loss. Me, who always puts things in perspective and has learned the hard way that winning isn't everything. I wasn't sad because I wanted Drew to win. I was sad because I wanted Drew to officially become the champion we already knew he was. And I didn't want Drew to experience any more pain in life than absolutely necessary.

Drew's loss made me realize how much I'd grown to care for him over the years, especially in recent months. He is the first person to pick up my son, Owen, and carry him around at Sunday Dinners. Everyone calls Owen Drew's "Mini-Me." And I gladly welcome the nickname.

If 17 years from now I find myself at a wrestling match in Bakersfield cheering for Owen as he loses the state championship, I will be thankful that he is just like Drew. Just like the Drew before the match. Just like Drew during the match. And just like Drew who lost the match.

Because I, and eventually Drew, will know that its the hardest times of our lives that make us better. Its the painful losses that teach us more than the most exciting victories. Life doesn't always turn out like we'd expected but either way, it keeps turning. And I hope Drew doesn't slow down too much because there is so much more waiting for him around the corner.