In a marriage molded by wrestling, date night is her debut wrestling match at the State Fairgrounds in Des Moines

They warmed up together.

They crouched in the middle of the mat. She seized the back of his neck. He seized the back of hers. They circled. She rolled, wrapped her arms around his waist, pulled him down, torqued his leg.

This was, in a word, love.

Or a form of love for people like Becca and Lee Roper. She spotted him 13 years ago, back in Georgia, when he coached teenagers and she followed her little brother to matches around the state.

He was her type. Stocky. Bearded. Cauliflower eared.

All her boyfriends were wrestlers, just as all her life was wrestling. Her father coached. Her uncles wrestled in college. Her parents started her brother’s youth team.

And yet, Becca never competed. Few girls wrestled when she was a child in the '90s. And girls just don’t wrestle boys, her father said.

So, she became a team manager. She kept time and cleaned mats and drove her brother 2 hours to his weekly training in Atlanta. They cleared out the living room furniture and practiced together, until he got big enough to 5-point throw her onto her head.

She only dated state champions. As she matured, she expanded her field to coaches.

Lee was building one of Georgia’s premier wrestling clubs when they met. He had a habit of canceling their plans to help wrestlers, a theme that persists.

They moved to Waterloo when Lee became a University of Northern Iowa coach. Becca, 30, took a job at the National Wrestling Hall of Fame Dan Gable Museum.

She worked long hours. He worked longer, waking up at 3 a.m. for recruiting trips. They went more than a year between date nights.

But their relationship works. She is the supreme coach’s wife, as obsessed with the sport as he is.

In August, they added a layer to their marriage. She saw an ad from StaleMates, a Des Moines wrestling media company organizing an event. The company wanted to advertise wrestlers with interesting stories, including first-time competitors. Becca signed up.

Lee trained her for two months, pushed her until her forearms were too sore to cut chicken, until she needed hot baths in the middle of the night to soothe her aches.

Becca’s match was the first of the evening on the last Friday of October at the Elwell Family Food Center at the Iowa State Fairgrounds, a venue dripping with mullets and grunge rock and Busch Light.

Lee patted her neck and slapped her calf, and Becca greeted her opponent. Becca’s heart pounded, and her muscles tensed.

The first period raced by, with Becca and her opponent locked onto each other, neither woman gaining an edge. Becca started the second on top, but her opponent staggered to her feet, grabbed Becca’s leg, tripped her onto her back.

She started the third and final period on top again. This time, she shoved her opponent into the mat and tried to apply a cross-face cradle. But her opponent squirmed and resisted until the clock ran out.

Becca lost, 7-0. Now, she told herself, she was a wrestler. She vowed to find another match.

Lee kissed her as she walked off the mat. Then, they went out for dinner.

Tyler Jett, who covers jobs and the economy for the Register, grew up playing football, basketball and volleyball. He has now attended one wrestling match. His wife will not let him grow a mullet.

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Our Des Moines is a weekly feature on an interesting person, place or happening in the Des Moines metro, the kind of gems that make central Iowa a special place. Have an idea for this series? Contact chunter@registermedia.com.

This article originally appeared on Des Moines Register: Fight night is date night for this couple in wrestling hotbed of Iowa