It was 1976 and with nothing better to do, several of my friends and I started going to the Penn State wrestling matches. Penn State was undefeated that year until they met up with Navy on a cold February afternoon. Both Penn State and Navy were ranked in the top ten that year and the match was a nail biter. We had great seats - only of couple of rows up from the mat. By coincidence, our group was seated next to the State College high school coach and his wife. Half way through the match the referee got too close to the action and got kicked in the head. He couldn’t continue. While the referee was being attended to, the high school coach got up from his seat and spoke to the coaches, offering his services. By mutual agreement, the High School coach was designated as the referee for the remaining matches. I don’t recall all of the details, but in the matches that followed it seemed to me that the new referee went out of his way to demonstrate that he was not biased toward PSU. In the next to last match, PSU’s Bill Bertrand lost a close contest that particularly riled up the crowd. That put PSU down by one point as they trotted out the heavyweights. For Penn State, it was Brad Benson. Benson also played football for Paterno and later played ten years in the NFL as an All-Pro offensive lineman for the NY Giants. Benson stood at 6’4” and was a giant next to Navy’s much smaller heavyweight. I thought this would be an easy one and that PSU would secure the victory. The match went into the final minute with Benson and his opponent tied 3-3. Benson was down, needing only an escape to win the match. Navy’s man was stalling the hell out the match, hanging on to Benson’s foot like a piece of toilet paper stuck to the shoe. To my untrained eye, I thought Benson had the escape a couple of times, but the call never came. The crowd could not have been louder and my brother was hammering the official mercilessly. The match ended without an escape. Benson and his opponent tied (in those days matches could end in a tie) and PSU lost by a point. The boos rained down from Rec Hall like hail during a violent thunderstorm and much of the anger and disappointment was directed toward the high school coach who volunteered to officiate the match. Immediately, the wife of the coach (seated right next to us) broke down and started bawling. One of the most vociferous of the fans was my brother (well, I guess I was doing my part as well). She lit into my brother with venom unseen from the snakes of hell – screaming at the top of her lungs. I was hooked on wrestling – in my warped mind that was fun.