330 LAB

From the first time I met Beachy, I knew right away he was going to be my guy. There was just something different about him. Whether it was answering everything with “Yes, sir” or “Yes, Coach,” listening to every word that was being said, picking up nearly every move I showed him, or simply putting his head down and working, Beachy was an absolute workhorse.

You never had to question whether he was going to give you everything he had. He showed up ready to learn, ready to work, and ready to get better. He was the kind of athlete every coach hopes walks through their doors.

But what made Beachy special had nothing to do with just winning matches or being talented.

It was the person he was.

What he probably never truly realized was how much he helped me, too.

As a coach, there are days when you question yourself. There are days when you wonder if everything you are putting into a program is worth it. There are days when you are tired, frustrated, stressed, or wondering whether you are really making a difference.

Beachy helped me find that motivation again and again.

When I felt like I was losing that light, Beachy gave some of it back to me. Watching how hard he worked, seeing how much he cared, and seeing how badly he wanted to improve reminded me why I started coaching in the first place.

He made me want to be a better coach.

I loved that kid like he was my own.

And I don’t say that lightly.

When you spend this much time around these kids, they become more than athletes. You watch them grow. You watch them struggle. You see them win, you see them lose, and you get to be there for moments that go far beyond wrestling.

Beachy became family.

He was somebody I could trust.

When another kid needed help, Beachy was there.

When a kid was struggling with a move and needed somebody to work with them, Beachy was there.

When somebody was feeling down and needed picked up, Beachy was there.

When I was tied up coaching somewhere else and needed somebody I trusted to step into a corner and help coach one of our wrestlers, Beachy was there.

If something needed done, you could count on him.

That was just who he was.

Dependable. Respectful. Hardworking. Coachable. Selfless.

He didn’t have to be the loudest person in the room to make an impact. You noticed him because of the way he carried himself, the way he worked, and the way he treated the people around him.

Beachy understood something that takes a lot of athletes years to figure out — being a great teammate matters just as much as being a great wrestler.

The Lab is built around kids pushing each other, believing in each other, and becoming better people through this sport. Beachy represented all of that.

He wasn’t just somebody who came into the room, practiced, competed and went home.

He became part of the foundation of this place.

There are kids in this room who are better wrestlers because of Beachy.

There are kids who are better teammates because of Beachy.

There are coaches, including myself, who are better because of Beachy.

And there are memories inside this room that will be here forever because of him.

I know there are going to be countless moments going forward where I look around the room expecting to see him.

I’ll expect to hear “Yes, Coach.”

I’ll expect to see him locked in during practice.

I’ll expect to see him helping another kid.

I’ll expect him to be standing there ready for whatever I ask him to do next.

Those moments are going to hurt.

But they are also going to remind us just how lucky we were to have him as part of this family.

Beachy left an impact here that cannot be measured by medals, wins, losses, rankings or anything else this sport keeps track of.

His impact was on people.

That is bigger than wrestling.

Every time one of our athletes stays after to help somebody else, there will be a little bit of Beachy in that.

Every time somebody is exhausted but finds a way to keep working, there will be a little bit of Beachy in that.

Every time somebody answers “Yes, Coach,” locks in and gives everything they have, there will be a little bit of Beachy in that.

And every time this team comes together to take care of one another, we will be carrying forward the kind of teammate and person that Beachy was.

Nathan Beachy wasn’t just a standout athlete for the 330 Lab.

He was one of ours.

He was family.

He was somebody I loved like my own, and somebody I will be proud to have coached for the rest of my life.

I would give anything to have one more practice, one more conversation, one more match, or one more chance to tell him just how much he meant to me and this team.

But what I can do is make sure he is never forgotten.

His name will continue to be spoken in this room.

His example will continue to be taught to the kids who come after him.

And the standard he set through his work ethic, his respect, his toughness and the way he treated others will continue to live inside the 330 Lab.