The Pain Principle : Wrestler’s Labor Is Translated Into Excellence

Mr. Perfect can recall no better moment in his life: Limping off a wrestling mat in Fresno and unable to speak through a mouthful of blood, he was bent over from knee and shoulder injuries; he was pained, drained and, at this moment, detained from the celebration that usually follows winning a state wrestling championship.

This was everything Capistrano Valley High School’s Mike Phillips could have requested. Not only a state championship (at 147 pounds last season), but a palpable, painful measuring stick of how far he had come and how far he could go.

The blood from his lower lip, the torn ligaments in his left knee, the separated left shoulder, the general exhaustion that gripped his lungs were all savored by Phillips, 17, who believes the best of times are usually born out of blood, sweat and more sweat.

“I felt so horrible, it was great,” he said. “The pain told me I had done everything I could have possibly done. If anyone was to ever offer me drugs, I’d say no. (Now) I’ve felt real ecstasy, anything else would be a letdown.”

It might seem easy to dismiss Phillips’ pain/pleasure approach to wrestling, which he also applies to life, as eccentric.

Yet there’s nothing bizarre here. Phillips’ manner is well thought out, and now proven. Put simply, he believes that if you pass out from exhaustion at the end of the day, you’ve had a good day. You’ve done everything that could be expected.

If you are Phillips, you rise by dawn to be at school at 6 a.m. to lift weights. You take a full load of college prep classes in which you excel. You then attend wrestling practice--three or more hours of pungent smells, painful slams and general misery.

When, at the end of practice, everyone else drags themselves to a hot shower, you take off on a run of several miles. If wrestling wasn’t challenging enough that day--you’ve been known to beg for extra conditioning--you’ll hit the weights again.

Then it’s home for your vegetarian dinner and homework. And then comes that strangely sweet feeling that you might not have the strength to make it to the bed, and you smile.

“That’s the greatest,” Phillips said. “You know then, you know you’ve done your best.”

As far as wrestling is concerned, Phillips is best, again, this season, jumping out to a 19-0 record, all by pins. Only two matches have progressed as far as the third period.

“He is simply dominating the competition,” said Jeff Roberts, Capistrano Valley coach. “He’s worked so hard to get where he is, it’s great to see it pay off.”

The payoff has not only come in wrestling. He is an outstanding student, who is being recruited by Stanford and Harvard. He has learned German and French and visited those countries over the summer through a student exchange program.

If you wonder if his knowledge of foreign languages stretches about as far as a dinner menu, know that Phillips has studied the nuances of Goethe’s “Faust” and Brecht’s “The Threepenny Opera.”

“Amazing the things that don’t make it into the English translation,” he said. “I really enjoyed Brecht.”

Next on the language hit list is Russian, and a date with Tolstoy.

Great at wrestling, great in school, his willingness to work and enthusiasm to learn making his future seemingly unlimited, the question must be addressed: Is the kid perfect?

“You know I hear that,” said Marty Phillips, Mike’s mother. “And I can assure you, he’s not.”

She can say this because she remembers worrying that Mike would never make it out of grammar school.

“He just wasn’t trying,” she said. “To this day, I’m not sure what it was. Maybe he was afraid of junior high school.”

Whatever it was, Phillips received poor grades but, like it or not, did graduate to junior high. It was a time when the things life offered him did not excite him.

School bored him. Sports, in the shape of youth soccer, was no biggie either.

The things he did love, his mid-of-the-back hair and heavy metal music, well, they weren’t giving out good grades or trophies for those either.

Then, during the eighth grade, he took an introduction to French and German.

“I fell in love with learning languages right away,” he said. “I just wanted to know more and more.”

The following year, as a freshman at Capistrano Valley, some friends talked him into going out for the wrestling team. He showed up in Roberts’ office, long hair intact, and asked about the team.

“Coach Roberts took a look at me and gave me this look like, ‘Oh, God. How long until this one quits?’ ” Phillips said.

But by the time he was a sophomore, Roberts had told Phillips he had the potential to be a state champion.

Phillips was stunned by Roberts’ confidence, especially since Phillips’ 31-14 season was mediocre by his standards.

He decided to take a leap of faith and do everything he could to become what Roberts expected.

Thus started the self-imposed physical torture and the vegetarian diet.

“I had been thinking about it for a long time,” he said. “First it was strictly from a moral standpoint, what right did I have to eat another animal. Then I studied how bad red meat was for you. It was easy to make the decision.”

As with everything, he took his decision to the brink. When his mother made him a birthday cake for turning 16, Phillips refused to eat it, having spied on the frosting can’s list of ingredients that the product may or may not contain animal shortening.

“I didn’t get mad,” his mother said. “That’s Mike. It’s the way he approaches everything, all the way.”

As Phillips committed himself to wrestling, he found himself also putting more and more time to his studies.

“Everything just seemed to fall into place,” he said. “The more I put in, the more I got out. People think that all the things I do, that it’s impossible. I tell them it’s not. You’ve just got to be willing to sacrifice and work and to always have faith in yourself. The faith will bring you through all the pain.”

And the pain has brought Mike Phillips nearly everything he has.