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RIO DE JANEIRO — Before every wrestling meet, Jordan Burroughs’ wife, Lauren, writes him a note. I thought he could use another.

Dear Jordan,

I’m sorry for what happened Friday. I don’t know you, and you don’t know me, and I’ll be honest: I hadn’t watched a wrestling match in years until Friday. I came to see you. I knew your story. The 130-2 record internationally. The gold medal in London. The happy, smiling family. The hard work. You had made your country proud.

It still is. I know it doesn’t feel like it now. I saw the tears in your eyes. They wouldn’t stop. You walked up to a group of people holding recorders at the Rio Games after you lost a match 11-1. It was your second loss of the day after going years at a time without knowing defeat. I can’t fathom winning like that; I can’t begin to understand what it felt like to lose. Then you talked for 11 minutes, 27 seconds, words as raw and honest as I’ve ever heard from an athlete. It was gutting.

You didn’t skirt responsibility, didn’t blame others, didn’t trot out any of the rote excuses. You owned your terrible day. It takes someone big to do that. It takes someone bigger to do it with such eloquence and perspective. I want you to read your words because I think they’re important.

“I feel like I let my family down, my kids,” you said. “I missed a lot of important milestones in my children’s lives to pursue this sport. I didn’t see my son walk for the first time. I’ve left my wife at home with two kids for long periods of time to go to training camps, to foreign countries. She did that joyfully, not begrudgingly, because she knew on days like these I always fulfilled my end. Now I feel like I let her down. I let her down, I let my family down. This is supposed to be my year. This is supposed to be my breakthrough performance that cemented me as a legend in the sport. And it almost retracted my position in the sport. It hurts me. It hurts a lot, man. It hurts.”

View photos Jordan Burroughs was the gold medal favorite at 74kg coming into the Olympics. (AP) More

I wanted to address this first because it’s obvious how important your family is. You did not let down your family. Because they’re your family, they understand the sacrifice you made was for their betterment – for the betterment of a sport you love and that loves you back. You may have missed milestones, but they’re nothing more than that. The time you spent with them – those are the moments that matter.

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Your purpose was large. One day does not lessen that. You are still Jordan Burroughs. In the end, your name may end up alongside Dan Gable’s and Cael Sanderson’s as the greatest American wrestlers. It may not. That’s immaterial. And if it takes a day like this to lend you that perspective, in the long run you’ll better understand that Aug. 19, 2016 was the beginning of something, not the end.

“I’ve worked hard for four years, man,” you said. “I’ve done everything right. I’ve spent time away from home. I’ve cut weight. I’ve ran. Gotten up early. I sacrificed so much to get here. And I just wanted to show people that. I didn’t want anything from this but for people to understand wrestling’s cool. We work hard. And I wanted to be amongst the greats. I wanted to be a Simone Biles, a Michael Phelps, an Ashton Eaton. I wanted to be those guys. And it’s unfortunate, you know? You watch the women’s soccer team and the women’s volleyball team and Serena and all these amazing athletes and you think, ‘That won’t be me. That won’t be me. I’m prepared.’ And then life shows you otherwise.”

Life is difficult and humbling and excruciating. And then it isn’t. You’re 28 years old. You’re a world-class athlete. You know this. You know the two men who beat you today, Aniuar Geduev of Russia in the quarterfinals and Bekzod Abdurakhmonov of Uzbekistan, wanted to win every bit as much as you did. You know they’ve spent four years away from home, cutting weight, running, getting up early, too. You know they wanted to be revered eternally, and you know they didn’t want to lose, either. Both of them did. Geduev could have won a gold medal. He didn’t. Abdurakhmonov could have won bronze. He didn’t.

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