Kurt Montanye, King of Kings: A Mensch Who Connects People Through the Mat
TL;DR
- The headline: In the wrestling world, Kurt Montanye is “king of kings” because he doesn’t chase status—he earns trust through character, consistency, and love for the sport.
- Origin story: I met Kurt in high school when I was the freshman in a sling. He shut down the noise with one line and taught me what real protection looks like.
- Chef by day = real sacrifice: Kurt works as an accomplished chef to pay the bills, then coaches because he genuinely can’t not do it.
- Where he leads: Assistant Coach at Admiral Farragut Academy and Head Coach of Headhunters Wrestling Club.
- RPA Headhunters (merge over compete): With Coach Jamie Harrison (RPA), Kurt chose merging over turf wars—forming the RPA Headhunters girls club team.
- Girls wrestling advocate: From 1990—when girls weren’t a force in the sport—to today, Kurt’s helping build the future by championing girls’ wrestling.
- Receipts: Back-to-back AAU Scholastic Duals National Titles (2024 & 2025) + 2025 TFWR Club Co-Coaches of the Year.
- Breaking Free tie-in: Ethical, sweatshop-free production + second-chance employment + Low Minimums (Order as little as 20 items)—built for programs operating in the 50–500 unit range.
Some people coach wrestling. Kurt Montanye is fueled by wrestling.
Not in a corny way. In the real way: the way you can feel when a coach is using the sport to find human connection—teaching discipline, confidence, and belonging through a room that demands honesty.
That’s why I call him a mensch. And that’s why, in our world, he’s “king of kings”—not because he needs the crown, but because he keeps choosing the work.
The Freshman in the Sling (How I Met Kurt)
I entered Fair Lawn High School as an aspiring athlete, yes as a liability. After a freak wrestling training accident, my shoulder was wrecked. I walked into those halls as a lanky freshman with my arm immobilized in a sling—basically a “kick me” sign in a high school ecosystem.
The taunting started fast. And when you’re physically broken and can’t defend yourself, the bottom-feeders tend to sniff it out.
I reached out for help. Prior to my brother leaving FLHS, he made sure to let some seniors know that I was his kid brother. Kurt Montanye didn’t hesitate. He didn’t give a speech. He stepped into the circle, put his hand on my shoulder, and said something that changed the whole social math of that hallway:
The sanitized version of what he said was that “He’s my cousin. Anything you have to say to him, you say to me.” I’m quite aware, that wasn’t exactly what ws said. ** **
Kurt wasn’t my cousin by blood, but in that wrestling-room culture, blood was secondary to the code. The taunting stopped instantly.
That was the first time I saw what mentorship looks like in real life: protection, without a transaction.
Fair Lawn High School throwback: I’m on the left and Kurt’s on the right/center—same era, same room, same code.
Chef by Day, Coach by Calling
A lot of people talk about “sacrifice.” Kurt lives it.
By day, he’s an accomplished chef. That’s how he pays the bills—how he keeps life running. But if you ask what he’s built his identity around, it’s not a title on a resume. It’s coaching. It’s showing up for athletes, families, and the kids who need structure more than they need hype.
That’s one of the reasons I call him a mensch. He chose the harder path:
- Work a demanding day job
- then pour what’s left into kids who aren’t even his
Or maybe it’s the other way around – give everything he has to the kids – and keep the job. That’s mentorship. It is coaching at its best – giving someone another shot at who they can become. Not just the kids rebuilding after a bad season or a tough home situation, but also those who keep reinventing themselves to stay useful.
The Coaching Roles: Farragut + Headhunters
Kurt’s impact isn’t theoretical. He’s in the building.
- Assistant Coach at Admiral Farragut Academy — helping develop student-athletes inside a disciplined, standards-based environment.
- Co-Head Coach of RPA/Headhunters Wrestling Club — building a club culture where effort is normal, details matter, and kids are treated like they’re worth the investment.
And if you’ve coached (or you’ve been around coaches) you know the difference between someone who “runs practices” and someone who builds people. Kurt is firmly in that second camp.
Merging Over Competing: How RPA Headhunters Got Built
Youth sports has a default setting: compete for the same kids, the same mat time, the same spotlight.
Kurt and Coach Jamie Harrison (RPA) chose a different play: merge instead of compete.
They took what could’ve stayed a rivalry—and turned it into a partnership. The outcome was bigger than either brand on its own: RPA Headhunters.
That decision is leadership.
- It’s ego management.
- It’s long-term thinking.
- It’s putting athletes ahead of “my room vs your room.”
It’s also a real-world example of how second chances show up outside the justice-system conversation: sometimes the “comeback” is two groups deciding they’re done burning energy on turf wars—and ready to build something shared.
Girls’ Wrestling Advocacy (1990 vs. Now)
Here’s the clean contrast that tells you who Kurt is.
Back in 1990, when Kurt was doing his thing in high school, girls weren’t a real force in the sport the way they are today. The opportunity structure wasn’t there. The pipeline wasn’t there. The culture wasn’t there.
Fast forward to now—and Kurt is helping build the future on purpose.
He doesn’t treat girls’ wrestling like a side project or a “nice add-on.” He treats it like what it is: one of the most important growth engines in the sport, and a real vehicle for confidence, identity, and connection.
That’s evolution. That’s commitment. That’s a coach choosing the future over nostalgia.
The Results: Back-to-Back National Titles + 2025 TFWR Recognition
The partnership wasn’t just a nice idea. It produced.
The RPA Headhunters Girls Club Team went back-to-back National Champions at the AAU Scholastic Duals:
- 2024 National Title
- 2025 National Title
And in 2025, Kurt Montanye and Jamie Harrison were recognized as TFWR Club Co-Coaches of the Year.
Awards are cool. Titles matter. But the deeper point is what those titles usually represent:
- hundreds of unglamorous decisions
- consistency
- athletes who trust the room
- families who trust the adults running it
The Hoodie (And Staying Friends)
We’re still friends today. That’s the part people miss when they talk about “culture” like it’s a buzzword. The real stuff lasts.
One of my favorite full-circle moments with Kurt was recreating our old Fair Lawn wrestling hoodie—the one we basically lived in back then. Same identity, same vibe, brought back with clean modern production.
The recreated Fair Lawn hoodie (the same one I’m wearing in the team photo). I’m out of the sling now—but I’m still not cleared to wrestle yet.
Kurt and I reconnected over a need for merch, for swag. There was a good 20 year period where we were just living our lives. But as friends do, we pick up exactly where we left off. And yes – for business it helps that if he needs one shirt or 50 or 100, I have his back. And at Breaking Free we are happy to help the kids rep out and look good at their tournaments or to celebrate their wins. But beyond cotton and matches, Kurt and I both connect about following our passion. For more information about Womens’ Wrestling, Women’s Wrestling at Felician College, or for your own merch order, give us a shout at either 714-586-8234 or info@breakingfreeindustries.com
Kurt repping Felician College—where he recruits—still doing what he’s always done: opening doors and raising standards.
From Fair Lawn to Now
Time does what it does—people move, careers shift, the world gets busy. Kurt ended up in Florida. I ended up in California building Breaking Free Industries.
But we stayed connected. For a while it was the modern version of staying in touch—Facebook friends, occasional check-ins, watching life happen from a distance. And then we did what real wrestling relationships do: we kept it simple and real.
We’re still friends today. Same mutual respect, same shared history, same understanding that the stuff that matters isn’t always loud.
That’s another reason this post is mostly about Kurt as a mensch, not a highlight reel: the best mentors don’t just “coach a season.” They build a standard—and they carry it with them wherever they go.
What a Mensch Actually Builds
Kurt Montanye’s impact goes way beyond the mat.
Yes—there are titles. Yes—there’s recognition. But the real legacy is quieter:
- the kid who learns how to handle pressure without melting down
- the athlete who finds a stable adult when life is unstable
- the young person who gets a second chance at discipline, confidence, and identity
That’s mentorship. That’s sacrifice. And that’s why people trust him.
Kurt showed me what protection looked like when I was at my most vulnerable. Decades later, the story still holds because it’s not really about wrestling. It’s about choosing people.
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