North American Swiss Wrestlers Keep Tradition Alive

Six determined athletes from across the Atlantic are descending upon Mollis, Canton Glarus, ready to disrupt the status quo at the 2025 Federal Wrestling and Alpine Games Festival. This is not merely a sporting event; it is a pilgrimage. While thousands of locals prepare to watch the giants of Schwingen clash, a small but fierce contingent of four Americans and two Canadians is proving that Swiss DNA thrives well beyond the borders of the Confederation.

The roster is set. From the United States, the team features Marshall Brockway (19), Peter Ming (23), Brenden Spahr (26), and veteran Patrick Richardson (38). Joining them from the north are Canadians Thomas Badat (28) and Martin Mathis (29). These men are not tourists; they are competitors stepping into the hallowed sawdust ring to grapple with tradition itself. For five of these six wrestlers, this weekend marks their debut at the Schwingfest—a baptism by fire in the heart of the Swiss Alps.

Training for Schwingen in North America is a battle against isolation. While Swiss locals have access to vibrant clubs and regular sparring partners, these expats face a stark reality: they are often the only ones in their region who know the sport exists. Thomas Badat, who co-runs a fencing business in Kingsey Falls, Quebec, confronts this challenge daily. "There aren’t many people in Canada who practise Schwingen," Badat admits. With only one club in the entire country, finding a partner is nearly impossible.

The cultural disconnect is equally jarring. When Badat mentions his passion back home, he is met with confusion rather than recognition. "Most people who know the sport are either Swiss or have Swiss friends. Everyone else just asks, ‘What’s that?’" he says. His response is as direct as his wrestling style: "Google it – it’s brilliant." Despite the logistical nightmares—where potential sparring partners are often busy farmers with no time to spare—these athletes have forged their skills in solitude, driven by sheer willpower.

For Marshall Brockway, the sawdust ring is a time machine. Hailing from Silver Creek, Washington—a village that bears a striking resemblance to the rolling hills of the Emmental—Brockway represents the enduring power of heritage. His family emigrated from Switzerland four generations ago, yet the tradition of Schwingen has not only survived but flourished in the Pacific Northwest. "I’ve been wrestling with my uncles and cousins since I was a kid – it has always been a big part of who I am," Brockway declares.

This is the definition of a living legacy. While many cultural traditions fade after a single generation, the Brockway clan has kept the flame alive for over a century. Last weekend, the 19-year-old road builder tested his mettle in Einsiedeln, Canton Schwyz, preparing for the main event. His presence in Mollis is a testament to the tenacity of the Swiss abroad—a declaration that geography cannot sever the roots of identity.

Stepping into the arena at Mollis is an overwhelming sensory experience, and for the uninitiated, it can be disorienting. Enter Adrian Oertig, a seasoned wrestler and three-time mentor to the overseas team. He knows the psychological toll the festival takes. "They often feel a bit lost here, especially those visiting Switzerland for the first time," Oertig observes. His role is critical: guiding these warriors through the pageantry and pressure of Switzerland's most iconic sporting event.

The stakes are incredibly high. Brenden Spahr, a middle school teacher and coach, understands the gravity of the moment. "To be one of only four Americans taking part means the world to me," Spahr says. As Saturday approaches, the sentimentality will fade, replaced by the primal focus of competition. These six men have traveled thousands of miles not just to visit, but to fight. When they enter the ring, they carry the pride of two nations on their shoulders.