The wrestling matches always began as innocent one-on-one basketball games. Josh Wilson was perhaps less talented -- "he hustles real hard," Deyon Williams, pointed out, kindly -- and Wilson would compensate with physical play. The best friends would argue over fouls. Words turned into shoves. Soon, they'd be rolling around on the grass in Williams's backyard.
The wrestling would end, they'd return to the court and peace would descend upon Upper Marlboro, at least for a few minutes. Then the physical play resumed, the cycle repeated "and we'd start wrestling again," Williams said.
"He's tall, but he's skinny," Wilson said, insisting he got the better of Williams during those grappling sessions. "I've got the leverage."
For 10 years the best friends have waged competitions in amateur track clubs and high school track meets, in backyard basketball games and backyard wrestling matches, on PlayStation football fields and high school football fields and college football fields. Saturday, the venue will be Byrd Stadium in College Park; Williams is Virginia's leading receiver, Wilson is a starting cornerback at Maryland.
They were occasionally matched up against each other during last year's meeting in Charlottesville, and each has been needling the other for months in preparation for this game. Their parents, though, have mixed feelings.
"I know [Maryland's] my allegiance, but I want Deyon to do well," said Valanda Wilson, Josh's mother.
"It makes me kind of torn," agreed Ricky Williams, Deyon's father. "You wish for the best for both of them, even if they're playing each other."
Which is only natural, because Williams and Wilson consider themselves more brothers than friends. Their families live in the same Upper Marlboro subdivision, a five-minute bike ride apart, and during high school summers they spent virtually ever night together.
Wilson attended -- and sometimes still attends -- monthly family dinners with Williams's extended family.
"He fits right in, everybody knows him," said Debra Williams, Deyon's mother. "He's just like family."
Wilson would show up at his friend's house and remain even after Williams left, watching television, getting something to eat, taking a shower. Ricky Williams would go to work, leaving Wilson by himself in the house.
"Every time I'd call over there, I'd say, 'Send Joshua home so I can still put him on my taxes,' " Valanda Wilson joked.
