HIGH SCHOOL WRESTLING PREVIEW : Chaminade’s Filmardirossian Brings Survival Instincts to Mat

Mher Filmardirossian remembers missiles sailing over his neighborhood during the 11 years he lived in Beirut.

Having lived in the cross-fire of a civil war between Lebanese Christians and Muslims, Filmardirossian understandably finds it difficult to distinguish one bombing episode from another.

Except for the bomb he was too young to remember, the one that landed on a car in front of his parents’ home when he was 18 months old.

Several children playing in the street were injured. A few were killed instantly. Among the fallen was a 16-year-old boy named Simon, whose bloodied body landed on top of Filmardirossian.

Only minutes earlier, Simon, Filmardirossian’s beloved baby-sitter, had arrived to take his young companion for a stroll. They didn’t get far.

The blast sent Filmardirossian’s horrified parents running from the house. Amid the mayhem, they saw their frightened toddler miraculously emerge from a cloud of smoke, shrapnel embedded in his diaper.

“My mom always has described it to me as though there were two angels holding me up, walking me out of the flames,” Filmardirossian said. “I had a few scratches, but I was all right. Simon was dead before he ever hit . . .”

He pauses. “. . . me.”

Now, every day is a beautiful day in the neighborhood for Filmardirossian. He is 18, a senior at Chaminade High, a varsity linebacker and, as defending Mission League champion at 171 pounds, is one of the area’s best high school wrestlers.

“He is a takedown machine,” Chaminade Coach Greg Behrens said. “I stopped counting his takedowns last year because he was so far ahead of everyone on the team. He’s the best I’ve ever seen on his feet.”

Filmardirossian, the youngest of four sons, has lived in the relative tranquillity of North Hollywood since the family moved from Beirut in 1985 in search of a more peaceful existence. He drives to school in a powder blue Hyundai. On weekends, he drives all over town in search of Armenian restaurants.

“I’m a new guy at this,” Filmardirossian says of wrestling, although the comment could apply to most aspects of his life.

“The coach said I have a talent and I think I have a great chance to go to the (state finals). There are a lot of kids back in Lebanon who will never get a chance to come to America, never come to a school like Chaminade. I’m wrestling for them.”

Filmardirossian’s hair is jet black and his arms move constantly when he speaks. With his animated style and liberal use of slang, he could be confused for a native New Yorker of Italian descent.

“The kids say I talk like Tony Danza,” he said. “I say, ‘Yo, bro’ a lot. People come up to me and say, ‘Yo, tough guy. Whaddya doin’?’ ”

Tough Guy is Filmardirossian’s nickname. He walks around campus high-fiving classmates and bear-hugging coaches. He is among the most popular students in school, described by coaches and classmates as an overachieving athlete with competitive fire and fierce determination.

“He wins matches that he is not supposed to win,” Behrens said. “It gets to the point where it is impossible for the other guy to take him down.”

A simple philosophy steers Filmardirossian. “Nobody has to push me,” he said. “I motivate myself. I’ve learned that life is never guaranteed. If you want something, you have to work hard for it.”

Last season, Tough Guy was just that on the mat.

After going 18-14 as a sophomore, Filmardirossian posted a 35-5 record and wrested the league title from Alemany’s Ruben Garcia, a two-time league champion and an All-Southern Section selection. Filmardirossian’s 5-3 overtime decision propelled him into the Southern Section 1-A Division championships, in which he lost in the quarterfinals.

“He was so ticked off I had to get him out of the gym,” Behrens said. “He felt he should have won. . . . It’s either all or nothing with him.”

Last month, Filmardirossian (5-foot-8, 175 pounds) stepped in at running back in place of injured Franklin Saunders and rushed for 61 yards and a touchdown in the Eagles’ 28-23 league title-clinching victory over rival Notre Dame. For the season, Filmardirossian, who started on special teams, rushed for 170 yards and two touchdowns in 21 carries.

“He had never played football, but he wanted to come out and learn,” said Rich Lawson, Chaminade’s football coach. “I said, ‘It’s going to be tough playing out here.’ He said, ‘Nothing is tougher than surviving a car bombing.’ ”

Said Filmardirossian: “There are always going to be (obstacles). You just always have to turn to God.”

He invokes God often in conversation. He is an active member of an Armenian Congregational Church in North Hollywood. And he admittedly spends a good bit of time in prayer.

There is a saying that there are no atheists in foxholes. There probably were about as many nonbelievers in the Beirut neighborhood where the Filmardirossians lived among other Christian families. Did Filmardirossian see death?

“All the time there was something,” he said. “There was a church right up the hill and all the time you’d hear funerals. We’d hear about this kid being killed and that kid being killed.

“I think about some of the kids I used to play with in the streets and I wonder if they’re still alive. Those were the worst of times back then. But life goes on.”

Sarkis Filmardirossian was 12 the day the bomb nearly killed his brother. Had he not chased after a boy who was stealing from the family garden just seconds before the blast, he might have been killed.

Only hours after Simon was killed, Vartan Filmardirossian, the boys’ father who died in 1990 after a long bout with emphysema, was injured in a similar explosion.

“I’ve seen other families break down because of the violence and the missing persons,” Sarkis said. “I think it was a miracle that Mher wasn’t killed. He was just a baby.”

Maybe that is why Mher speaks so matter-of-factly--almost devoid of emotion--about the bombing and the day-to-day violence he witnessed. He graciously answers questions and even offers to diagram the tragedy on a chalkboard in a coach’s office.

Filmardirossian will never know if Simon intended to shield him from the blast--although that is what he chooses to believe. He does know from his family that he and Simon adored each other.

“They’ve shown me pictures of us together,” Filmardirossian said. “I think he was a guy who always looked after me and really loved me. I think he was put here for a reason. I think he saved my life.”

He also knows that he and his baby-sitter will one day come face to face. “I’ll meet up with him in heaven,” he said. “And I’ll say ‘Hey, bro, I love you.’ ”