Doubling Up: Creating Heroes and Legends
We should seriously consider allowing wrestlers to “Double Up” but no more than three times per season—because if we want to create heroes and legends like baseball did with Babe Ruth, boxing with Muhammad Ali, and basketball with Michael Jordan, we need superstars who are as recognizable in wrestling as those athletes are in their sports.
Ask anyone on the street if they know the names Jordan Burroughs, John Smith, or Bruce Baumgartner—and watch the blank stares. Point made.
So here’s how we might start changing that.
The Concept
Wrestling should allow athletes to compete in two weight classes during the same dual meet, but no more than three times per season.
This concept—Doubling Up—would generate enormous buzz among fans and media alike. Imagine the headlines and excitement it could produce.
Just think about it:
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Would people pay top dollar to watch a Lakers game knowing LeBron James was only going to play the first four minutes of any game?
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Would Super Bowl ratings survive if the star player on each team was going to set the bench for three of the flour quarters?
Of course not. So why is it acceptable for wrestling’s biggest stars to be off the mat for 90–95% of a dual meet, often wrestling less than 5 minutes?
In business, you’d never pull your best salesperson off the road after an hour. Why should wrestling be any different?
Making Legends
If we want to build legends the media can celebrate, what better way than letting Jesse Mendez wrestle Brock Hardy and then stay out on the mat to tangle with Ridge Lovett?
If that happened, you don’t think Sports Illustrated would run at least a column about it or do a feature story? You don’t think ESPN’s Outside the Lines would want Jesse on as a guest?
Allowing athletes to Double Up three times a year is a winning idea—a spark our sport desperately needs.
Why Only Three Times?
So why limit it to just three times? Because there’s a potential downside.
Coaches might be tempted to bump their best wrestler up repeatedly, pushing a lesser athlete out of the lineup who has earned their varsity spot. That’s wrong on many levels, so a cap is necessary.
Safety Concerns?
“But what about safety? Wouldn’t wrestling two matches in one night overtax a wrestler’s body?”
No—and hell no.
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Football and soccer players compete for two hours non-stop.
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Marathoners run for over four hours.
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UFC championship fights go for 15 minutes.
Are we not constantly claiming that wrestlers are the toughest athletes on the planet?
Look at practice: coaches regularly run wrestlers through back-to-back-to back matches for 45 minutes straight. Nobody has ever dropped dead from that. I’d bet medical studies would even show it has cardiovascular benefits.
So how “dangerous” can 14 minutes of wrestling be, especially when it’s less than a third of what wrestlers endure daily in practice—and shorter than a UFC bout?
The 30-Minute Rule
I realize this proposal violates wrestling’s current rule requiring a 30-minute rest between matches. But who came up with that number in the first place? Not the NCAA as an institution—but which actual person? I’d love to challenge them to produce a single piece of medical evidence supporting that arbitrary time frame.
My gut says they simply made it up.
Resistance to Change
It’s frustrating how stubborn wrestling leadership can be about new ideas like Doubling Up. They’ll resist anything new, yet rarely question what’s already etched in stone—no matter how senseless.
But let’s be clear: Doubling Up is not some radical concept.
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Tennis athletes compete in both singles and doubles.
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Track & Field and Swimming & Diving allow athletes to enter multiple events in a meet.
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Olympic athletes can enter as many sports or events as they qualify for—there are no limits.
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Football players can go both ways and stay on the field for an entire game.
Yet somehow, we act as though our wrestlers are fragile flowers who must rest after seven minutes of competition. Are you kidding me? Even basketball players go nonstop for two hours. It’s laughable.
Strategic Drama
Another compelling reason for Doubling Up is the strategic layer it adds.
Imagine the excitement as a dual meet nears halftime:
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Should Cael Sanderson put Mesenbrink back out there for a second match, burning one of his three Double Ups, knowing Penn State is down by four points?
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Or should he save him, mindful of upcoming battles against Michigan, Iowa, and Ohio State?
These scenarios would thrill fans, fuel debates among armchair quarterbacks, and reward the sport’s sharpest coaches.
Flexibility in Weight Classes
Under Doubling Up, athletes should be allowed to move up one or even two weight classes above their certified weight. Why not?
Worried about injuries? Please. In football, a 140-pound running back regularly collides head-on with a 320-pound lineman sprinting full speed. Yet somehow, wrestling balks at a guy moving from 147 to 165? Hogwash. They do it everyday in the wrestling room.
Reducing Forfeits
Doubling Up could even help reduce forfeits. Coaches could push a wrestler up to fill a gap in the lineup after competing at his primary weight.
We might even consider a rule requiring teams that forfeit a weight class to use the wrestler directly below that weight—assuming he still has one of his three Double Ups left.
Granted, that wouldn’t solve forfeiting the lowest weight class, but if a rule fixes 90% of a problem, why wouldn’t we do it?
The Big Picture
What makes Doubling Up even more powerful is how it could interact with Rule #3 in my next blog post. Together, they’d transform wrestling into a sport brimming with stars, strategy, and spectator excitement.
Doubling Up isn’t just an idea—it’s a chance to put wrestling’s best talent front and center, to create moments fans will talk about for years.
Why should our heroes be hidden away on the bench when they could be out there—making history twice in one night?
