Move over guys, the women now own the wrestling mat

ATHENS — Leave it to the first-ever Olympic women’s wrestling medalist to get right to the point, as it were. Are there any sports being contested here, someone asked American bronze medalist Patricia Miranda, that still can and should be performed only by men?

No, she said, then added: “Unless you can really convince me it’s something beyond two arms and two legs … something you definitely need a penis to do. …”

Well, there you have it.

Women’s wrestling made its Olympic debut before a hopping crowd in Athens Monday night, proving two things beyond a reasonable doubt:

Elite women wrestlers are as agile, powerful and determined — and perhaps even more passionate — than their male Olympic counterparts.

And while there may be no crying in baseball, there is crying in women’s wrestling — or at least afterward.

Lots of it. Tears of joy, agony, regret.

The joy came first, and it was huge.

In the gold medal match for the 48 kilogram (105-pound) class in which Miranda claimed bronze, Irini Merleni of Ukraine fought a tough, frustrating match to a 2-2 draw after nine minutes with opponent Chiharu Icho of Japan.

When it ended, the referee grabbed both women’s arms — and raised Merlini’s, giving her the victory by decision.

For a half-second, she was stunned. Then she cut loose. Blonde ponytails bobbing up and down, she stomped, kicked, whooped and danced furiously in a circle on the mat. She dropped to her knees and raised her arms. She got back up. She screamed.

Tears of elation streaming down her face, she turned to the referee — Georgios Chamakos of Greece, a tidy-looking chap in a blue blazer, slacks and tie, and literally leapt into his arms, wrapping herself around him with her legs locked behind his back, like a happy koala bear on a long-lost eucalyptus tree.

Chamakos stood there, stunned at his sudden squirming Ukrainian appendage, not knowing what to do, as the crowd ate it up. Finally, Merlini released, running across the mat to hug the officials, the fans, the photographers, the guy who cleans the mat, everyone within thanking distance.

Chamakos should thank his lucky stars this was a women’s 105-pound match. If that had been Rulon Gardner clinging to his chest, he’d only now be coming out of emergency hernia surgery.

It wasn’t, and that was part of the wonder.

The first time the women grappled for medals, the U.S. walked away with a pair—Miranda’s bronze and Sara McMann’s silver, a consolation-prize medal in the 63-kilogram (139-pound) division after a close loss to archrival Kaori Icho of Japan, sister of the silver medalist in the lighter class.

McMann, devastated by the loss, started weeping, and couldn’t stop, for some 10 minutes, as she was awarded a silver medal she truly couldn’t seem to stomach.

It’s passion.

And if women’s wrestling keeps producing it the way it did on its Olympic-medal debut in Athens, we’ll all be feeling it, in the heart and in the gut, for a long time to come.