To win the national title, the Gophers had to vanquish perennial wrestling powerhouse University of Iowa. The seemingly unbeatable Hawkeyes had claimed 20 of the last 26 championships, including six consecutive titles.

At bottom, the Gophers' victory is the story of one man: head coach J Robinson. Robinson, a former Hawkeye coach who served in Vietnam with the elite Army Airborne Rangers, arrived at the "U" in 1985. His first year, the Gophers didn't win a match in the Big Ten. But Robinson's vision of excellence proved contagious. Step by step, he built an extraordinary team, and cherished championship ambitions when a title seemed an impossible dream.

Obviously, Gophers sports fans have reason to celebrate their wrestlers' victory. But the team's success should interest the rest of us as well. For in a society where we constantly aspire to excellence in education but rarely achieve it, the Gopher wrestlers have much to teach us.

The quest for excellence is always difficult, but it is particularly daunting in wrestling. The sport is extremely grueling, both physically and mentally. Athletes step out on the mat alone to face their opponent; in defeat, they have no one to blame but themselves. Because of the need to cut weight, they can't leave their sport in the gym, but must live it 24 hours a day. In the process, they learn to give their all in every endeavor, regardless of the way they feel physically.

In a sport this tough, what does it take to produce the best team in the nation? Robinson is adamant that success has little to do with money.

In his view, Americans tend to believe that excellence -- especially in the area of education -- requires ever-increasing infusions of cash. But Robinson insists that the key to success isn't the fanciest practice facilities or the largest budgets. On the contrary, excellence is about a state of mind: a drive to be the best, a willingness to work longer and harder than everyone else. For athletes who think victory is beyond their reach, Robinson has this word of advice: "Preparation changes expectations."

To illustrate, Robinson points to Gophers sophomore Jacob Volkmann. Volkmann is a 174-pounder from Hibbing, Minn. As a freshman he displayed talent, yet lacked polish. But Volkmann pursued his goal of excellence relentlessly, rising day after day before dawn to run, lift weights and perfect his technique. In late January 2001, he finally made the university's starting team. At the NCAA tournament in March, Volkmann was seeded 10th in his weight class. When the tournament was over, he had placed fourth, to the astonishment of the wrestling world.

Yet it takes more than a bunch of rugged individualists to win a national wrestling championship. In the end, the Gophers' victory hinged on their extraordinary ability to work as a team.

At the NCAA tournament, six Gopher wrestlers lost their semifinal matches, and chances for victory seemed to be slipping away. (Wrestlers often let up after losing their bid for individual glory.) But in the consolation rounds, all 10 wrestlers made a supreme effort, wrestling not for themselves, but for their teammates. The result? For the first time in NCAA history -- 71 years -- the championship team did not have a single wrestler in the individual finals.

How did the Gophers achieve their remarkable team cohesion? In part, Robinson credits the team's spiritual dimension. Many of the wrestlers are young men of religious faith. Before every dual meet, these athletes held a devotional service, open to any team member who wished to attend.

Robinson believes that the team's spiritual foundation inspired its members to wrestle for something higher than their own victory. By achieving excellence, they hoped to give glory to God. In addition, they lived out their higher purpose by "giving back": visiting schools, speaking to youth groups, and assisting with coaching duties at community wrestling clubs sponsored by Minnesota USA Wrestling.

As a coach, Robinson worries that many young Americans are failing to learn the importance of striving for excellence. Today, he notes, it's politically incorrect to want to be the best. As a society, we're so concerned about promoting youngsters' "self-esteem" that we discourage competition and reflexively praise mediocrity. At the same time, we tirelessly promote the notion that it's possible to attain great rewards without great effort. Exhibit A? Minnesota's state-sponsored Lottery, whose promotional billboards hold out the tantalizing prospect of riches without work. ("It could happen.")

When it comes to our kids and our schools, Americans may talk about excellence, but we find it hard to walk the walk. The Gophers' NCAA wrestling championship reminds us of what it actually takes to be the best -- in sports, and in life.

-- Katherine Kersten is a director of the Center of the American Experiment in Minneapolis.