06/30/2026
Mat Stories: More Than a Tournament
You can measure a tournament by medals if you want.
I measure it by people.
This was our first big tournament together, and like most firsts, there were plenty of unknowns. We were excited loading up and heading out, but none of us really knew what the day was going to bring.
By the end of it, I had found out one thing for sure.
I’ve still got a little fight left in the dog.
I also found out there are a whole lot of people tougher than me, and I’ve got a lot more to learn. That’s one of the things I respect most about jiu-jitsu. Every time someone gets the better of you, they’re giving you a chance to improve if you’re willing to learn from it.
By the time the day was over, my legs and lower back were absolutely thrashed. I felt like I’d ridden a horse for days and then the horse decided to throw me off a cliff. I was sore in places I forgot existed.
The kids taught me just as much as the adults did.
Logan and Jackson both lost their first matches. They didn’t really know what to expect, and both got emotional. That’s normal. Competition is different than training. The lights are brighter, the adrenaline is higher, and everyone eventually finds themselves in that moment.
What impressed me wasn’t that they lost.
It was what happened next.
Coach Zack, myself, and several of the guys from the Mena gym each took time to talk to them one-on-one. Nobody yelled. Nobody criticized. We settled them down, reminded them why they were there, and got their minds back where they needed to be.
The second time they stepped on the mat, they were different kids.
More relaxed.
More confident.
They fought better, smiled more, and by the time we headed home they were already talking about doing it again.
That’s a win.
One thing that stood out to me all weekend was the support that came from all directions.
Our home is Cossatot Jiu-Jitsu, but we’re fortunate to have good relationships with other gyms. We regularly cross-train with the crew in Mena, and from time to time we’ll make the drive over to Broken Bow. It’s a little farther for us, so we don’t get over there as often, but it’s a gym I respect just as much as Mena and just as much as my own.
At the tournament, it didn’t matter whose patch was on your gi. People encouraged each other, coached kids through hard moments, shook hands after matches, and celebrated each other’s successes.
Then after we got home, another reminder of what this community is about showed up.
Coach Austin from the Broken Bow gym wasn’t even at the tournament, but he saw the pictures on Facebook and reached out to tell us he was proud of us.
That may seem like a small thing, but it isn’t.
He didn’t have to say anything. He simply took a minute to encourage people from another gym because he respected the work that had been put in.
That’s the kind of culture worth protecting.
Different gyms.
Different patches.
But the same goal—to make each other better.
When people ask me why I enjoy jiu-jitsu so much, this is one of the biggest reasons.
It’s not just about submissions.
It’s not just about medals.
It’s about watching kids walk in scared and leave smiling.
It’s about coaches investing in people whether they win or lose.
It’s about teammates picking each other up after a tough match.
It’s about gyms respecting one another instead of tearing each other down.
When we finally got home, Logan was already outside with his mom’s phone looking through every picture from the day.
That pretty much says it all.
Kids don’t remember being sore.
They remember the experience.
They remember who believed in them after they lost.
They remember who stood beside them when things got hard.
Years from now they probably won’t remember every match.
But they’ll remember the people.
That’s what Mat Stories is really about.
Not just techniques.
Not just tournaments.
Not just wins and losses.
It’s about ordinary people from different backgrounds stepping onto the same mats, making each other better, and building friendships that stretch far beyond the gym.
If you’re lucky enough to find a gym with good people, hold onto it.
Because you’re joining more than a place to train.
You’re becoming part of a community.
After this weekend, I’d call that a pretty damn good day.
