Roy Heine CA: Wrestling Saved My Life & A Friend's

To Save a Life: How Wrestling Became My Destiny

By Roy Heine

As told to and related by Bill X. Barron

Editor’s Note: Bret Fry is a longtime friend who coached with Roy in California. He relates: "Roy is one of the good ones. He is extremely humble about success in life and business but has always found time to give back to the sport of wrestling. In the room, he is unapologetic about his intensity and has always expected the same from his wrestlers. In today’s wrestling climate of cancellations and postponements, we really appreciate the Gutierrez family and RMN Events for giving kids the opportunity to compete.”

Wrestling is in my DNA; it is in my blood. When I lost my mother at 12, wrestling became my family. Wrestling saved my life. Fifty years later that discipline and training prepared me to not only rescue my elderly female tenant from certain death, but to also save myself from her brutal attacker.

I remember my dad picking me up from middle school wrestling practice and telling me we had to buy some nice clothes. That was his way of saying that Mom had just died. From age six to twelve, I watched as my mother bravely battled cancer. Before she died, she met with Mike Achille, asking him to look out for me.

At the time my 6th grade guidance counselor, Mike later became my high school wrestling coach and, until he passed recently, served as a lifelong mentor. He not only kept his word to my mom, but he remained the closest confidant I have had in my life.

I am certain that the character to fight through adversity is in my genetic heritage. My family came here from Germany during the Holocaust. Many did not survive. To escape, my grandparents, mother, and father had to use their instincts, critical decision-making, and courage.

That character was developed in my family, instilled in my personality and in my DNA. Growing up in rural New York, we may have been poor, we never knew it. My father was a factory worker who supported my brother and me in whatever we did. We were never poor in spirit. That spirit took root deep in my heart and my soul.

It took wrestling to bring that spirit out in me. If not for wrestling, I would have been in a lot of trouble. The wrestling room became my sanctuary. Sports like football and lacrosse provided me an outlet, but wrestling became my love, my passion.

My spirit was – and still is – that of a fighter. That quality never goes away. It is always ready to act when called upon. There is no substitute for hard work, discipline, and most importantly doing what you say you’re going to do.

Though I was a good wrestler, I was not great. Yet having to mature at an early age prepared me to be captain of the Nanuet High School (NY) wrestling team. In 1974, my senior year, I received the Jerry Leo Memorial Award, given to the wrestler who best exemplified Jerry, a 1960’s team member who literally left his heart on the mat when he passed away during a match.

After graduating, I wrestled at James Madison University. After moving to California, I served as a volunteer assistant coach for Capistrano and Dana Hills High Schools, working with coaches Jeff Roberts, Bob Manley, and Bret Fry. I enjoyed the opportunity to mentor and coach young men while giving back to the sport I love.

I have to admit that I learned more about life through wrestling than I ever did in the classroom. Five decades later, the disciplines I learned in wrestling helped me not only save my life but also rescue that of another.

In a real sense, I am engineered to save lives … or to fight for my own life, when called upon. I respond without hesitation. Like the time I was out to dinner with my wife, when she pointed to someone behind me and declared: “He needs your help.”

Although a waiter was trying to apply a Heimlich maneuver, the 300-pound man was too much for him to handle. I moved in behind, popped hard with my arms, then lifted and dropped him hard. On the spot, he was uncorked. Though I had no training in this particular rescue, without forethought my instincts kicked in.

For the past seven years, I have competed in the Xfit Master’s Division. XFit has remade me, so I am like a 40-year old in my 60’s. While maintaining one-hundred percent heart rate and the same mental focus I had as a wrestler, my daily routine consists of weight-lifting, calisthenics, running, rowing, bar work, pull-ups, and muscle-ups on rings.

In a recent World competition, I finished first in California and 29th overall internationally while competing in the 60-plus age group. Wrestling and CrossFit saved my life.

On our beautiful large property in California, I built a cottage in back, where one afternoon I heard my 70-year old tenant scream for her life and call my name. While running up, I saw a man hovering over her. She was not moving, but I could see that he had broken bones in her face and had strangled her.

When he saw me, he charged. As he went for a double-leg takedown, my wrestling instincts kicked in. I applied a crossface and whizzer as I was sprawling. Though his attack was initially neutralized, he eventually overpowered me. Tripping, I landed awkwardly, disabling my primary hand, tearing fingers and ripping tendons.

Just as I realized that I was truly in trouble, I recognized him as a young man I had coached in middle school and even mentored in later years. Yet even saying his name and yelling out: “You’re killing me” did not make him stop. If not for wrestling skills honed in my youth, and rehearsed in Xfit, I’d be a dead man.

Maneuvering so I could breathe, I managed to get to my feet. Fists in my face, I was soon back on the ground, where he tried to rip my cheeks. I had to lock his fingers in my teeth and jaw just so I could breathe. I broke loose for a moment, before he seized me in a stranglehold and bit off a third of my ear.

Yet as the wrestling match for my life continued, I knew that I just had to keep my head in the game. Quitting was not an option. Never for one second did I lose faith in my ability to survive this life or death battle. Fortunately, my three dogs alerted my wife when she came home, who then called 911.

Even now, the sound of police sirens brings tears to my eyes. People who downgrade cops don’t know my three neighborhood saviors. While one torpedoed the 28-year old off my body, the others worked on getting him under control as he turned the assault against them.

By my next battle, I will have learned jiu-jitsu and how to handle a knife. For now, I know that I saved someone’s mother, as well as myself, and have suffered no PTSD. While I experienced fear and faced down helplessness, I managed the moment by focusing on my breathing and by being in great condition.

As a wrestler who has fought many battles, some losing, I was engineered for this moment. Bloodied and battled, but not down for the count, I am rehabbing in the weight room and through mountain biking, while training to take on the rest of my life.

From inside the wrestling circle, ingrained in me are all the principles to never quit, the backbone to stand on my own, and the character to know how and when to fight. Maybe I didn’t win all the time, but I have survived. I am not in jail. I have lived and loved and learned.

I am here with a recurring message earned in my youth and relearned in my 60’s: “Never, ever, quit.”