If you go down to the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise. At the heart of the Equestrian and Golf Club’s countrified splendour, a large handful of kids are grappling over a deflated ball. A faux-stern Canadian wanders among them, barking light-hearted unpleasantries. ‘This is not the place for fun!’ he growls, though it quite clearly is. The kids are lapping it up, obviously delighted to be rough ’n’ tumbling without risking a scolding.
Ryan Sargeant is a keen wrestler, having done time on the mats at international level for his country. Together with Callum McNeil, a lithe Scotsman who wrestled for the UK in the ’92 summer Olympics, he runs a free programme designed to get kids interested in the sport, burning a few calories while they’re at it. ‘Combat sports are exploding in Abu Dhabi now,’ he explains, ‘and wrestling is a good foundation for all combat sports. We transfer nicely to judo; to jujitsu… Right now we’re focusing on youth development; letting the sport grow. They’ve got elite international coaches here in Abu Dhabi, but what they’ve never had is a grassroots programme.’ On a neighbouring mat, a group of Emirati teenagers (and one hapless Time Out journalist) put on an erratic display; something for the little ’uns to aspire to, perhaps. ‘From next year, the jujitsu programme will be in 63 government schools,’ he tells us. ‘They’re really trying to make the capital a hub for combat schools.’
We wonder, from a parental perspective, why you’d push your kids into something as combat-oriented as wrestling. ‘They tend to do far more here than in any other sport we’ve had them involved with,’ says Chris Bigwood, a British father we meet proudly watching over his writhing progeny. ‘They burn a lot of calories, they gain suppleness; they take a few knocks and become more resilient.’ Don’t they tend to wrestle more at home? ‘Well, they’ve always done that, but they tend to control it more now.’ For burly dad Bigwood, it gives his kids a chance to continue what they’d be doing if the heat outdoors wasn’t so oppressive, and he points out that the activities here have a lot in common with rugby training. Most impressive, perhaps, is the fact that all this comes at no cost. ‘It’s great that they’re giving something back,’ Bigwood adds.
Ryan puts it in a nutshell: ‘We’re just a nice little youth sport programme. It’s almost like the wrestling is secondary. We’re focused on fitness, athleticism, discipline, commitment; the holistic development of the kids through wrestling. At that age they’re actually natural wrestlers anyway. I do very little technique with them – they do most of it without it being taught to them, so I give them lots of games, lots of opportunities to explore the sport, and they do it naturally. They don’t need to become wrestlers until they’re 17 or 18.’ At which point, we presume, their calling might well be answered by Dhabi’s grapple-hungry public. The next Anderson Silva may well be here already.
Kids’ sessions take place at the Golf and Equestrian Centre, next door to Abu Dhabi Country Club. Sundays and Tuesdays; ages 5-10 years, 4pm-5pm; ages 11-16 years, 5pm-6.30pm. Free of charge. For more information, call Ryan on 050 660 2818.
Babyfacers
Ever wondered why dogs don’t wrestle? Riccardo Ricci (eight years old), Emma and Greta Boccaletti (seven and six years old) – seasoned wrestlers at the club – explain all.
Why do you do wrestling?
R: Because my mum wants us to get strong.
Is it easy?
E: Sometimes it’s hard and sometimes it’s easy. One time my nose bleeded.
G: Almost everybody hurts here.
R: One time I came and my knees were all red.
So, do you fight people in the street now?
R: No, you shouldn’t, because cars can go on you.
E: My dog was killed by a car.
Not because of wrestling, then?
G: Dogs don’t do wrestling!
R: Some dogs do wrestling, but it’s illegal. Some of them died.
