Connor Church Belief, Identity, and the Olympic Dream

Some athletes find wrestling early. Others find it through a lifetime of competition.

For Connor Church, wrestling became the sport that brought everything together.

Connor grew up in Winnipeg in a Métis family where sport was a constant presence. Long before he stepped onto a wrestling mat, he was already immersed in combat sports.

“I’ve been doing all sorts of combat sports since I could walk—Taekwondo, Karate, Boxing, Jiu-Jitsu, Kickboxing. But I didn’t start wrestling until I was around 14 years old.”

That late start could have been a disadvantage. Instead, it became fuel.

When Connor began wrestling, Winnipeg's wrestling scene was relatively small. There were only a handful of clubs, and local competition opportunities were limited.

“There were only a few clubs in Winnipeg when I was living there, so I didn’t have to travel far for practices. But there weren’t many tournaments at the time, and the skill level was very low. I had to travel to Ontario regularly for competitions.”

Those trips became an early lesson in what it takes to compete at a higher level: seek out stronger opponents, embrace discomfort, and chase growth wherever it exists.

Ask Connor what separated him from others early on, and the answer isn't technique or experience.

“I've pretty much always believed that I had what it takes to be successful. I had success in all the other combat sports I competed in. I knew I was a winner.”

That confidence became the foundation of his wrestling career. It carried him through difficult training sessions, long travel schedules, and the steep learning curve that comes with entering a sport later than many of his competitors.

As Connor progressed into university wrestling, he found mentors who helped elevate his game.

“Jordan Steen and Alex Moore were two wrestlers I looked up to when I first started wrestling in university. Having the chance to train with them helped shape me into the wrestler I am today.”

Training alongside established Canadian wrestlers provided more than technical knowledge. It offered a blueprint for professionalism, discipline, and what elite-level preparation looks like.

CAREER HIGHLIGHTS

It's a résumé that would make most athletes proud. Yet when asked which achievement means the most, Connor doesn't choose a national title or international medal.

“I'm most proud of the Tom Longboat awards. Having the chance to put the Indigenous community in the spotlight and be a positive role model for young Indigenous athletes means a lot more to me than any medal I win.”

The Tom Longboat Award recognizes outstanding Indigenous athletes in Canada. For Connor, receiving it twice represents something bigger than personal success. It represents visibility, representation, and responsibility.

His journey isn't only about winning matches. It's about showing young Indigenous athletes that they belong on the biggest stages in sport.

Today, Connor is based in London, training with the Western Mustangs Wrestling.

His focus is clear.

“My only goal is to qualify for the Olympic Games in 2028 at 86kg.”

That goal sits at the center of every training session, every recovery day, and every competition. The path from Winnipeg's small wrestling scene to the Olympic stage is demanding, but Connor has built his career on overcoming gaps, seeking tougher challenges, and trusting his belief in himself.

Connor Church's story is a reminder that elite athletes are not always products of ideal circumstances. Sometimes they emerge from small communities, limited opportunities, and late starts. What separates them is the willingness to chase better competition, learn from mentors, and hold onto an unwavering belief in what's possible.

For the next generation of wrestlers watching his journey, the message is simple: your starting point does not define your ceiling. The work you do every day—your practice—can still lead you to the podium.