GUILDERLAND — Herm Wyld isn’t a man who will pat himself on the back. That’s why he was surprised by his recent induction into the Section 2 Wrestling Hall of Fame.

Also, a considerable amount of time had passed — 35 years — since Wyld had retired as Guilderland’s original wrestling coach.

“I didn’t see this coming, but I’m very honored,” Wyld, now 82 years old, said from his Westmere home last week. “It has been so long.”

Regan Johnson, Guilderland’s current athletic director, and wrestling coach from 1997 to 2007, said that Wyld’s induction into the Hall of Fame was long overdue. Johnson coached Wyld’s grandson, Joe, who was a Section 2 champion.

“I enjoyed every conversation I had with him about coaching or about whatever,” Johnson said of Wyld. “He was a huge influence on me as a young coach who was trying to rebuild our wrestling program. I miss seeing him.”

Scholastic wrestling dates back to the early 1900s, and became more popular after World War II. Guilderland introduced wrestling in 1960. Wyld, who taught physical education and health at the school while being a line coach for the football team, offered to be the wrestling coach despite knowing very little about the sport.

“Other schools in the area had wrestling going on, so Guilderland wanted to be in the mix,” said Wyld; he isn’t very mobile these days — two knee replacements — but is mentally sharp. “We wanted to get close together, start something.”

Starting from scratch, Wyld went on to coach Guilderland to four Section 2 team titles. He said that his wrestling knowledge went from nil to very good, mostly due to the Pennsylvania clinics that he and his coaching assistants attended every year.

“I wrestled one match in my life and got pinned,” said Wyld, who graduated from Cortland in 1959 after serving in the Korean War; he was a talented football player. “It was this heavyweight from Oswego,” he remembered of his only wrestling match. “I blinked once and he had me on my back.”

“He pulled leadership out of you”

Tom Kryzak, who won two sectional titles at Guilderland before graduating in 1972, said that Coach Wyld never hollered. “He spoke to people,” Kryzak said. “He was more interested in the development of the person. He made a difference by making the kids get committed.”

Kryzak went on to have a successful wrestling career at Boston University, losing just three matches, and probably would have wrestled for the United States in the 1980 Olympics if President Jimmy Carter hadn’t boycotted the Americans from competition. Kryzak says it was Wyld who sparked his athletic career, talking him into wrestling in his sophomore year at Guilderland.

“Before that, I had no goals beyond partying on Friday night, finding a girl, and driving a nice car,” said Kryzak. “Herm found my button, and off I went.”

Eighty-percent commitment was not enough for Coach Wyld, Kryzak said. “But he actually asked the athletes what they wanted,” he added. “If he saw that you had the ability, then he would ask you to run practice. That’s what he did — pulled leadership out of you.”

After all his wrestling achievements in college and as an Olympic alternate, Kryzak told The Enterprise that he looked back and realized the greatness of Coach Wyld. “It’s like, ‘Wow,’” he said. “He had all the tools.”

Wyld coached hundreds of kids; it’s hard for him to remember all of the names. He made it a point to not mention any specific wrestlers, so as to not single anyone out.

“I loved all the kids, every one,” said Wyld. He continues to receive thank-you cards and calls from all over — someone called from Hawaii — and he once had a former athlete shout “Coach” at him while in Florida. “All these names, it’s too many,” he said.

However, Wyld does recall one wrestler who never won a match, but kept coming back because “he wanted to be something.” This was Wyld’s go-to motto: Try to be the best. That’s just how he felt, and he says that all of his wrestlers followed his slogan, 100 percent.

“We used to have the bleachers filled,” Wyld said. “The varsity kids would teach the younger kids on Saturday morning; we became a sound group. It was absolutely fantastic.”

“Didn’t see him for dinner much,” said Wyld’s wife, Alice. She also said that her husband went bald because he always rubbed his head while coaching.

It’s with those same big hands, which Kryzak said were the size of his head, Wyld used to warm the shoulders of the next Guilderland wrestler about to take the mat. Chuck Foster, who opposed Wyld as the coach of Draper (Mohonasen) from 1969 to 1974, said that Wyld would squeeze those shoulders a little harder if the current wrestler were in any trouble.

“He wanted the kids to shine”

Foster’s oldest son, Chip, put together a history of Guilderland wrestling, working with Wyld, who had most of the facts. “He doesn’t like to shine light on himself,” Chuck Foster said of Wyld. “He wanted the kids to shine. He cared most about making them better people, and he did.”

As a way to make the Dutch wrestlers concentrate before one match, Foster said, Wyld shut the lights off in the locker room for 20 minutes.

Foster thinks a lot of Wyld — as a person, not just a coach.

Kryzak believes that every high school coach is a major factor in how athletes succeed. Athletes who compete in college have already reached a pinnacle of some sort.

“You get back what you put in — holds true with every wrestler,” said Kryzak. “Herm wanted everyone’s firm commitment; he would pull you aside if you weren’t giving it. Every great athlete needs a great coach.”

And Wyld was Guilderland’s illustrious coach until 1980. He had no particular reason to stop coaching; he just gave it up.

“It was different after I left,” Wyld said, his hand shaking from a tremor. “It was a different experience.”

But Wyld’s sectional seeding system, called the “Wyld System,” was used until 2000. The arrangement made it easier for the top wrestlers to get through the sectional tournament. Wyld is disappointed that Section 2 got rid of his system.

“It was wild, all right,” he said. “W-Y-L-D. It kills me to think about it.”

Johnson remembers a time before Christmas vacation when he was coaching Guilderland wrestling and was in the wrestling room, alone, doing some work in the office. The phone rang.

“It was Herm,” said Johnson. “He was calling to wish me and my family a Merry Christmas. He always asked about my kids, my wife, and my mom and dad.”

Like any good grandfather, Wyld was just checking in. Guilderland wrestling was his baby, of course.

Being inducted into the Section 2 Wrestling Hall of Fame allowed Wyld to relive all the fun of yesteryear. Wrestling enhanced his life, and most importantly, it improved the lives of those whom he coached.

“There’s nothing but fantastic feelings,” Wyld said, staring at his gold plaque. “It thrills my heart.”