Mike Rodriguez thought for sure that Mighty Mike Martin had put a dent right in the middle of the gym floor.

Mike went through his opponent, picked him way up in the air and slammed him right there on the blue mat in the center of the gymnasium — a tackle of sorts. The crowd went nuts. Opposing teams hated wrestling at Detroit Catholic Central, mostly because of that crowd.

Right there in the middle of the packed gymnasium stood a massive man, cloaked in his wrestling singlet. Mike had the power to do great things. He just didn’t know it yet.

Mike’s friends, family, teachers and mentors were there, everyone was excited to see what he would do in his first wrestling match. The whole school was let out an hour and a half early from class to watch this, the first match of the season. And the heavyweight was the first match drawn, so Mike was up first. Front and center.

Mike’s mother Theresa and father Barry were there, waiting to see if their son’s newest pursuit would be a successful one.

Everyone in that gymnasium knew who Mike Martin the football player was, but now he was trying his hand at wrestling — a sport completely different from football, which he had played since fifth grade.

This was mighty Mike Martin. He could do anything.

Then the referee’s whistle blew. He called Mike’s takedown a slam, which cost him one point. The crowd sat down in quiet disbelief.

This opponent wasn’t too big, and Mike wasn’t intimidated. He knew he could handle him. But Mike was facing a senior who had been wrestling since junior high.

The savvy senior responded and pinned Mike with seconds remaining in the match. Mike didn’t know how to get out of a pin just yet. Mighty Mike Martin had lost.

After the match, Rodriguez, Mike’s wrestling coach, rolled up the mat and approached his dejected heavyweight.

“You’ve learned something,” Rodriguez told him. “You’ve got to work harder.”

It was a somber car ride home that evening.

Barry tried to calm his son. He told Mike everything was going to be all right.

“I know, Dad, but I wasn’t supposed to lose,” Mike said desperately. “I wasn’t supposed to lose.”

“It was embarrassing for him, because he had high standards for himself,” says Eugene Grewe, Mike’s high school English teacher and track coach. “He kind of wanted to go out there and make a statement. So it was frustrating for him. I think he had a moment of doubt.”

Another couple of weeks slipped away, Thanksgiving came and went. On Black Friday, Mike had a mid-morning wrestling practice at the high school. Mike took the car and went to practice, but returned just an hour later. His mom knew something was up.

Mike had had enough. He just wasn’t getting it and he let his mom know that. This was completely different from anything he had done before and it just wasn’t coming easy to him.

“You gotta stick it out, just give it your best shot,” Theresa told him.

This kid, who would become a superhero for Michigan at defensive tackle, was caught in a moment of weakness.

Mike Martin wouldn’t quit — would he?

***

The signs were there, constant reminders to those in his life that he was destined to be better than average, faster than a speeding bullet, able to leap across tall buildings in a single bound and save the damsel in distress.

But it started with doubt.

When Mike was in the sixth grade, just a year after he started playing organized football, he dreamt about playing in the NFL someday. When Theresa took Mike to the pediatrician that year, the doctor tried to temper his expectations.

“I don’t know if you’re going to be playing college ball,” the pediatrician said. He knew the odds were stacked against any kid with that lofty a goal.

That didn’t sit well with Theresa.

“It just made me so mad, people’s negativity to young people,” she says. “Because if you have a dream you should nourish it and help support it — instead of squashing it. I know all kids, there’s a very small percentage that play college ball and from there go onto the pros, like a one-percent chance. But if a kid has a dream, you should be there to support it.”

Mike’s parents started him in sports at a young age and tried to encourage him the best they could.

Mike played baseball — his dad’s sport — at a young age and excelled. After games, umpires would rave to Theresa and rave about Mike’s arm strength.