Dear Diary:

Midway through a December match at Madison Square Garden, world Greco-Roman wrestling champion Arsen Julfalakyan of Armenia and Olympic hopeful Kyle Dake of New York were nearly deadlocked, with the score 2-0 in Dake’s favor.
Many audience members were young wrestlers themselves, a polite crowd that watched the day’s program of matches mostly in silence. Loud Armenian and English cheers from my friends and I thus stood out.
“Arsen, arach!” – “Arsen, charge!” – shouted Sergei, my brother-in-law’s cousin visiting from the North Caucasus.
“Uzhaspar! Neri, neri, neri!” – “He’s out of energy! Push, push push!” – cried my brother-in-law, also named Arsen, a native of Armenia.
“Let’s go, Arsen!” I, an Armenian-American, shouted.
A man in front of me turned around to say this must be the Armenian section. “How did you know?” I replied. Sergei and I had Armenia’s red, blue and orange flag draped on our laps.
“This guy must be like Derek Jeter and Babe Ruth rolled into one over there,” the other spectator said of Julfalakyan. He has been a hero in Armenia at least since he earned a silver medal at the 2012 Summer Olympics in London. Armenians seem to excel at competitions where the equipment is limited to your body (wrestling) or brain (chess) alone.
At the risk of sounding corny, you might include heart, too. In the final round, the audience could hear Julfalakyan will his way to victory. After starting in the top position over Dake, Julfalakyan gave a loud cry as he spectacularly spun and heaved his challenger over him. Doing it a second time earned him six points over Dake’s total of three.
After the match, Julfalakyan shook hands, accepted congratulations and stood for photos with my friends, a handful of other supporters and I. It felt like a good day for “the Armenian section.”