Many sports lay claim to being the oldest of all. Only wrestling has the written record to support its case.

Wrestling has a rich tradition of building powerful bonds, whether on a university team (above), a sports club, or individuals pairing up on their own.

In the opening of the most ancient recorded epic ever discovered, the Sumerian legend of "Gilgamesh," a young and irresponsible king finds his life transformed when he wrestles a giant from the forest, a beast of a man named Enkidu.

In a dramatic bout in the muddy streets, Enkidu is suddenly beaten. Out of the match in the muck a remarkable, somewhat homoerotic bond is formed. The two go on to conquer the world as far as they can stride and challenge the very gods. After Gilgamesh passes through profound grief on the death of his dearest friend, he becomes a truly great king, worthy of the enduring epic dedicated to his life.

What gives wrestling such eternal appeal? What earns it the enduring loyalty of so many of its converts? The answers to those questions can be found in the story of Gilgamesh and Enkidu, literature's greatest grapplers. Wrestling harnesses aggression appropriately and effectively. Wrestling creates transcendent bonds of camaraderie. Wrestlers gain the confidence to extend their ambitions and the skills to succeed when they do so. And the prolonged close physical contact provides a non-sexual release while stimulating powerful hormones.

Sexuality and wrestling
Despite the social strides of the past two decades, the mainstream wrestling establishment often is perceived as hostile to gays. Non-wrestlers often project their own erotic fantasies onto the sport. But by creating coaching and competition opportunities, gay friendly clubs have disproved that sexuality plays a central role in what happens on the mat.

As Golden Gate's Gene Dermody told author Dan Woog in the ground-breaking book Jocks, "It's so intimidating as a 12- or 13-year-old to walk into a wrestling room in the first place, with all those sweaty people rolling around. If you're gay or think you might be, it can be almost impossible.

"We've got guys who had drug and alcohol problems and sex addictions. Now they're wrestling, and maybe for the first time in their lives, they feel good about themselves. It's about dedication, commitment, and competition, not about who looks best or who can get whom. All that sexual stuff is unimportant. But this — wrestling — is real. We're not a sex club or a self-help group. We allow gay men to relate to each other on a nonsexual level. A lot of gay men have trouble relating in nonsexual ways. Wrestling lets you do that."

Transcendent bonds

Wrestling: force, form and function

"To me, wrestling means a great experience, working out, comradeship, new friends and a close bond to other wrestlers," said Southern California Wrestling Club's Pete Runyon. "Finding men with a mutual interest in wrestling has proven a great satisfaction.

"I joined three active clubs when I came out: wrestling, skiing and biking. In each case I made new friends and added to my life experience.

"Skiing and motorcycling bring guys close together and allow for trips and active fellowship. Wrestling brings you closer together but also challenges you more than most sports. A lot depends on your aggressiveness, desire to win and physical fitness. The Southern California Wrestling Club was a great experience for me. My previous club had been the Pasadena Junior Chamber which gave me training in business and event planning. But my favorite activity was wrestling. I guess it satisfied physical and mental urges."

Appropriate aggression
Gilgamesh may have been the first wrestler to emerge as a world leader, but certainly not the last. Epics and history are filled with grapplers who led by force of intellect, muscle and will. From Greek mythology there was the mighty warrior Ajax. From antiquity there was the world conqueror Alexander the Great. In modern times there was President Abraham Lincoln, who led the United States through a bloody civil war into a stronger unified existence.

Wrestlers depicted in a Grecian frieze

"Wrestling allows a woman to step into a world we've been locked out of for centuries," said Gay Games IV grappler Cathy Seabaugh of Chicago. "To feel the grip of another woman's hand around your arm or leg, to battle against her body as she's trying to drive your shoulders to the mat, all in a sport atmosphere, is exciting and gratifying. Wrestling, like rugby, allows us to test our physical limits in a way sports traditionally associated with females do not. I recommend every woman try it."

Said Runyon, "When you see guys on the mat who are in an impossible situation and all of a sudden they break free — then you know they have the driving spirit that is so important in life."

Perhaps the most egalitarian of all sports, it favors no single body type. Short, tall, fat, old, young, muscular, deaf, blind, slow, fast, amputee: each has inherent advantages if the wrestler has the discipline to master technique. Its diversity and egalitarianism are built into the rules. The resulting cultural camaraderie is the core of the Gay Games values.

Participation and Inclusion
In the mainstream world, wrestling is a young person's sport. In the wrestling fostered through the "gay clubs," coaching is geared to those who enter the sport regardless of age or medical status, keeping the door open for many wrestlers to extend their careers. For Chicago, the Gay Games for the first time offered a veterans (50 years and older) age division, which drew nearly 10 percent of the registrations.

Oldest in the field was Noel Baggett, 65, of Golden Gate. One of his coaches, Roger Brigham, 52, returned to wrestling after 28 years. In 2004, Brigham became the first person to wrestle in a USA Wrestling freestyle event on artificial hips.

"This wouldn't have been possible if there weren't gay clubs focused strictly on adult wrestling," Brigham said. "I came out as a wrestling coach in Alaska in 1982, but I always played my sports with mainstream straight clubs. I joined a gay team after my surgery because it was the only place I could find the coaches and the athletes with the willing attitude to help me figure out how to make adjustments."

Runyon, who died in 2008, was 76 when Gay Games VI were held and had stopped wrestling years before. But the sport left its mark on him just as much as he left his on the sport. "You don't know how much I miss wrestling," he said at the time. "When you remember the matches you have had — private or public — you can't fail but have a sense of pride, satisfaction, joy and fulfillment."