All jokes aside, you guys know I love the banter, but this is what keeps me, with the help of Emad Nayef and Scott Wasson now, going. I read this every day, I know some of you have seen it before, its written by Marty Galagher …..Imagine a time in the obscure town of Dayton, Ohio when, for a brief sliver of time, everyone who powerlifted competed in a single federation. Those who attended these unified National and World Championships, run under the direction of power impresario Larry Pacifico and his brother Dick, saw the very best, all lifting together, using the same rules, before sold out convention center audiences. We honestly believed that mainstream acceptance of Powerlifting lay just around the corner. Imagine a Powerlifting competition where all the top lifters in the country competed in a single place at the same time. Imagine a promotional genius who had the wisdom and foresight to hold championship power competitions in the same town, Dayton, Ohio, at the same time, year after year. As a result of keeping the competitions consistent, over time an audience, an educated audience, grew to love and anticipate the Powerlifting Championships. Year after year, locals and visitors would descend on Daytona to attend these power extavaganzas. Eventually, thousands of people would fill the Dayton Convention Center. People would actually scalp tickets to see the heavyweight finale. A packed house would sit in air conditioned comfort and watch the greatest lifters in the World ply their trade in front of strict judges in a competition run with the smooth efficiency of a Swiss watch. Loud vocal, bawdy, voracious fans hollered themselves hoarse when favourite lifters strode to the platform. Looking around the packed auditorium, the audience profile would be very similar to the type of crowd that attends the annual Sturgis Motorcycle festival each year. By keeping the competitions in Dayton at the same time each year, people were actually planning vacations around attending the Powerlifting Championships. Returning champions had their airfare and hotel rooms paid for. Larry sent courtesy buses to the airport to pick up top lifters and whisk them to the luxury hotel that adjoined the Convention Center, connected by a skyway. Each year, Larry and Dick layered on another new and exciting twist or wrinkle. At its apogee, Larry flew in Klaus, the funky blind organ player from Germany, and between lifts or in dead spots, Klaus would get the crowd going by playing wild dance music. Larry had a buffet steam table set up in the auditorium, 100 feet from the lifting, audience members could stroll over from their seats, purchase a hot meat loaf platter, perhaps some roast turkey with mashed potatoes, salads, pies, cakes, vegetables and (drum roll) a bottle of beer for a buck! Then walk back to their seat in time to see Hatfield squat 880 at 220 or Cash pull 832 to beat Fred and Larry. How about seeing Jacoby battle Ladiner? Back and forth these two battled, the lead changed hands something like six times. Joe pulled the winning deadlift of 800 only to be turned down in a 2 to 1 decision! Those were the days. I remember returning from the buffet line and telling my seatmate, Big Bob (an 800lb raw squatter who had spent time in prison for manslaughter) “ Bob, if we died and went to heaven – could it be any freaking better than this”. He shook his massive head, clicked my beer bottle with his and said “ Amen to that Little Daddy” You might see John Gamble, Terry McCormick, Dave Shaw, Larry Kidney, Tom Henderson, Bob Dempsey, Mark Chaillet, Sam Samanengeio and Steve Wilson all doing battle in the 275 pound class – along with a half dozen other heavy hitter lifters. How about watching Ed Coan deadlift or Lee Moran squat? Or the time Fred Hatfield did battle with Jim Cash and Larry P in the 220 class? You could see Lamar Gant pull 650+ weighing 132 pounds. I remember every time Iron Immortal Doyle Kenedy would stride out to lift, some crazed nut would stand and yell over and over, “MOUNTAIN MAN! KILL THE WEIGHT MOUNTAIN MAN!” The feeling of camaraderie among the lifters was palpable: I remember Larry Kidney make a terrific clutch deadlift with 780 and then giving John Gamble a heartfelt high_five as John passed Larry on his way to the platform to pull the 800 pound poundage that would beat Larry – the enemy was the barbell, not each other. After the competition it was bawdy, wild, beer-soaked reveries at the Spaghetti Factory or the magnificent lobster brunch in the meet hotel. It was the precious golden time-now gone forever!
Posted on: Fri, 08 Aug 2014 03:28:05 +0000
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