Alright, so I got obsessed with this wrestler, Jacob Howland, right? Kept seeing clips pop up everywhere – dude looked like he was dancing while everyone else just slammed into each other. Smooth. So, obviously, I had to try figuring out his style myself. Figured maybe I could stop getting ragdolled so easy at practice.
The Dumb Beginning Phase
First thing I did was just watch hours of his matches. Like, over and over. Coffee, snacks, the whole deal glued to my tablet. Everyone else looked like they were going full throttle, muscles bulging, pure grunt work. Jacob? Nah. He looked weirdly chill. Like he was barely breaking a sweat while the other guy practically collapsed. My first thought: “Bro must be insanely strong.” But nah, looking closer? It was all about where he stood and moved his damn feet.
Next session at the gym, I told my partner Steve: “Forget hard moves today. Let’s just… circle each other.” Steve gave me that what the hell are you smoking? look. But we started just walking around each other. Felt stupid as hell at first, like we were doing some weird waltz instead of wrestling. I was trying to copy Howland’s stance – kinda low, knees bent way more than usual, weight balanced just right. Messed it up completely. Felt clumsy as a newborn giraffe, almost fell over twice just shifting my weight. Steve saw an opening and shot in like a rocket. Boom. Took me down so fast my head spun. Guess it wasn’t gonna be magic after all.
Falling Down… A Lot
Okay, reality check time. Howland makes it look effortless because every tiny movement matters. Where your hips are pointed, how you angle your shoulders, shifting your weight without actually stepping much. Decided I needed to drill just the basic stance, constant small adjustments. Drove my roommate nuts practicing in the living room while he watched TV. “Dude, stop swaying, you’re making me dizzy!” he’d yell.
Next practice, focus was strictly on position. Instead of going straight for Steve’s legs, I focused purely on getting to his side. Just sidestepping. Keeping him off-balance just by moving into the empty space before he planted his foot. Holy hell, it’s exhausting trying to think that much while moving. Missed the angles, got snapped down hard. But… sometimes? For a split second, Steve wobbled like he wasn’t sure how to push me. That felt weird. Like I wasn’t doing much, but he suddenly looked vulnerable. It was the first tiny glimpse. Still got wrecked more than not, mind you.
Finally Seeing the Trick
Went back to the videos. Paid attention to his hands this time. Not grabbing super hard, just… there. Almost lazy-looking. Then BAM. When the opponent stepped or pushed, Howland’s hands would deflect that momentum slightly, just enough to open a gap. He wasn’t fighting the power, he was redirecting it. Blew my mind.
Tried it live next sparring session. Steve shot in again. Instead of meeting him head-on and trying to brute force a sprawl like I usually did? I kinda let him come, twisted my hips, and used my forearm to guide his shoulder past me, while stepping sharply to the side. Steve stumbled forward, completely overbalanced. He went face-first onto the mat like a plank. Didn’t even have to touch his legs. For a second, we both just stared. “Whoa… okay, what the hell was that?” Steve gasped.
That was the lightbulb moment. It wasn’t about overpowering. It was about letting Steve think he had the power, then suddenly yanking the rug out from under him by shifting position at the exact moment he committed his weight. Controlled sabotage. Practice became chaos after that. Started applying it everywhere – when guys locked up, when they tried big throws, even when they started trying to circle me. It felt sneaky. Dirty, almost. The more I relaxed and stopped trying to force things, just subtly screwing with their balance and position? The easier the takedowns felt. Guys bigger and stronger than me started looking confused as hell when they hit the mat without really understanding why. It was glorious.
Still Far from Easy, But Way Less Hard
Look, I ain’t Jacob Howland. Probably never will be. My execution is still messy as hell sometimes. But once you feel that little click when a dude who should smash you suddenly just falls because he stepped where you wanted him to? It changes everything. Feels less like a brawl and more like… setting a trap. The biggest takeaway? Wrestling smarter, not harder, sounds cliché, but damn if it isn’t true. Getting comfortable being uncomfortable in strange positions, focusing on tiny movements, and tricking guys into putting themselves off balance… that’s the gold.