When this sleeper hit came out in 1977, it caused quite a stir.

Protests.

Anger.

Even death threats.

I was one of the 3 shortest kids in my class (yes, counting girls), every year of my childhood.  Some years I was Numero height-challenged-uno. 

Thank goodness Sam English moved into the district.

But this was one of my favorite songs growing up – it spent a good solid 5 weeks at #1 on the Randy Charts.

People choose to be offended, and this little ditty was the perfect example of that.

Me, I felt honored that someone finally wrote a song about shorties such as myself.

See?  Its all a matter of perspective.

To this day, I enjoy a good short joke (now, short AND bald jokes).

Life's too short to be easily offended (there I did it to myself).

What offends me more than short/bald jokes? 

People lying to wrestlers.

Luring them in with the promise of bright shiny objects that, like fool's gold,  will turn into magic moves that are unstoppable (they don't exist), and will instantly turn them into champions.

The long and short of it is, this is what turns you into a champion:

Hard work and a dedication to the process of winning from the core positions in wrestling.

This summer, you can learn to win where it counts the most – from the short person sending you this email.

go ye here yet quickly, spots are rapidly vanishing

PS  its a tall order to try and learn the finer details (the ones that mean the difference in winning sometimes and winning lotsa times, when there are tons of kids in the gym.  That's why I insist on keeping my camps to reasonable numbers that allow me to personally train every wrestler.