NAked Warrior - ZANDERBILT

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I R O N E S S A Y S REMEMBRANCES OF DAYS PAST Coaching Team USA The picture on the last page is of the World Champion American Powerlifting Team after we captured the World Team Championships in Orebo, Sweden in 1991. I was one of three coaches for the US squad. I became a coach after my own powerlifting career was cut short. In 1983 I had a horrific power accident at age 33: I was squatting with 700 for reps on a light day without spotters. After all it was only 700. Anyway, it was a hot and sticky day and my T-shirt was soaked. The bar slipped down my back. I was about to toss it backward and leap forward when a well-intentioned buddy saw what was happening and leapt to my assistance. It was a nice gesture at precisely the wrong time. He tried to wrestle the barbell while standing behind me. He wanted to save me. There is no way anyone is going to prevent gravity from taking 700 exactly where it wants to go: straight down. He and I got tangled up and I took the full brunt of 700 pounds dropped from four feet across my left lower leg. It snapped like a match stick. I had squatted 840 the previous week weighing 250 and thought I had a real shot at breaking Danny Wohleber’s 871 world record in four weeks at the nationals. That accident effectively ended up my career as a powerlifter, at least for the next decade. I made a comeback as a master lifter (over 40 years of age) at age 42, but I never hit the heights I’d achieved before the injury. After the accident I wanted to keep my hand in the game and rather than become an official or an administrator (never my style) I decided to coach. At the local level I helped Mark Chailliet and Kirk Karwoski rise to international prominence and as a result I was ‘drafted’ by John Black to help Coach Black’s Gym at national competitions. We captured three National Team titles in five years. For complete information on Marty Gallagher’s The Purposeful Primitive, or to purchase the physical book, visit http://www.dragondoor.com/b37.html now 68
69 T H E P U R P O S E F U L P R I M I T I V E Our main competition was, always and forever, the mighty United States Armed Forces squad coached by my old Irish buddy, fighter pilot/instructor, Air Force Academy graduate, 500 pound bench presser, Sean ‘Slim’ Scully. Our team tussles were epic and over a five year period Black’s captured three team titles and the Armed Forces two. I remember at the 1991 National Championships when Bob Fortenbaugh and I squeezed together on the top rung of the victory podium to receive the humongous 1st place team award, the much taller Scully stood on the 2nd place pedestal. Right before the anthem played I looked down and nudged Sean, “Scully, you wouldn’t believe the view from up here! It’s incredible! Maybe someday after Bob and I retire you’ll be able to stand up here once again. By the way Sean, you look as if your hair is getting real thin on top.” Sean instinctually ran his hand on his crown to check and Bob and I laughed so hard (Sean too) that we almost toppled off the podium. As a result of coaching Black’s I was able to work with Eric Arnold, Dan Austin, Joe Ladiner, Incredible Eddie Coan, Mike Hall, Dave Jacoby, Phil Hile, Bob Bridges, (Mike’s brother) Kirk, Mark, Bob Dempsey, Dan Wolheber, Lamar Gant and a host of others who’s names escape me. Working with the very best, up close and personal in the white hot heat of national and international competition is one of the most frightening and exhilarating experiences imaginable. Six months of back-busting work are on the line and some athletes rise to the competitive occasion while others wilt in the glare. I am no fan of international travel, but when I was asked to be a coach for the Team USA. I agreed. In 1990 my protégé Karwoski had lost the World Title to The Fearsome Finn, three times World Champion, Kroyosto Vilmi, by a miniscule 4.4 pounds. It was Kirk’s first IPF World Championships. Vilmi pulled his final deadlift of 788 to eek out the win. I kicked myself in the ass for not having gone as I am quite sure that my presence would have been good for that additional five pounds Kirk needed for victory. The next year Kirk and I traveled to Europe looking for blood. Back then the US Team would always arrive at World Championship competitions in Europe or Asia ten days ahead of time so the athletes could adjust to the jet lag and time changes. This particular trip was a travel nightmare…buses, planes, connecting flights, more buses, dead time in terminals, more long bus rides; all this effort to arrive in a modest Swedish town in November. All the locals were sour and dour and an average lunch in an average Chinese restaurant cost $40. (I’d say $60-$70 today) I remember a group of us going to the McDonalds. I paid $22 for two Big Macs, an order of fries and a shake—shocking! The local Swedes rode bikes or drove Volvos and seemed depressed. Even in the bars things were somber. “Who died? What is up with these square-ass people?” Kirk summarized when he and I got a beer (or ten) at a local tavern one night. Any squad of American For complete information on Marty Gallagher’s The Purposeful Primitive, or to purchase the physical book, visit http://www.dragondoor.com/b37.html now
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NAked Warrior - ZANDERBILT

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