Bizarre habits of strongmen

Press, 28 September 1988, Page 33

Bizarre habits of strongmen

NZPA-Reuter Seoul Drama in the weightlifting gym makes strong men bang their heads against the wall. Others close their eyes and pray, roar out loud to relieve the tension, lift imaginary weights, or just stare blankly at the wall. In the past week the Olympics weightlifting crowd has watched a stream of lifters arriving at the platform performing rituals that help make the sport one of the most bizarre and nerve-jangling of the Games. Weightlifting is a drama with three acts. First comes the psychology, then snatch, finally the clean and jerk. Just like actors, the great lifters always perform at night and stage fright is an occcupational hazard. Nerves can ruin an opening night at the Olympics.

The Taiwanese bantamweight, Tsai Wen-yee’s act folded in the 56kg category because he could not get started. Striding up to the platform, grunting and flexing his arms in front of the barbell, Tsai failed in three attempts to snatch 105 kg and sadly left the Games. But his brief performance drew loud applause from the audience. “Sometimes it can take all day for a lifter to psych up for the evening’s event,” said one coach. “It is also very important to get his metabolism working smoothly.” Cameras trained on the warm-up room located behind the giant electronic scoreboard reveal the jungle of emotions experienced by coaches, lifters and supportive teammates. A South Korean coach tightly hugged the

flyweight, Chun Byungkwan, and whispered words of encouragement in his ear moments before he won the silver medal behind two-time world record breaker, Sevdalin Marinov, of Bulgaria. Another South Korean medallist, light-heavy-weight Lee Hyung-kun, had to gather all his strength to clinch the bronze in an exciting liftoff for the medals against Hungary’s Istvan Messzi and Israil Arsamakov of the Soviet Union. His final moments of preparation for the allimportant third and last attempt in the jerk were startling: Lee twice banged his head against the stage wall. Many coaches habitually give their lifters a pat on the buttocks to help them on their way to face the weights, the glare of the lights and an expec-

tant audience. Lifters are seen squatting and bouncing their way through the warm-up empty-handed — they are pushing hard and taking the strain of imagined weights. Between attempts at the snatch or jerk, prayer sometimes helps calm nerves and gather strength. The all-seeing backstage camera captured Turkish light-heavyweight, Ali Eroglu, with his eyes closed in apparent prayer. The last thing some lifters do before stooping to grip the barbells is raise their eyes to the rafters as if appealing for help from higher authority.

Others roar on their way to the platform and then bellow or groan with the effort of lifting the orange, red or blue weights from the floor. The Chinese light-

weight, Li Jinhe, barrelchested and beefy, strode on and off the platform like a child in a huff and with peremptory footstomping would attack the barbell with loud grunts and groans. The Olympic featherweight gold medallist, Naim Suleymanoglu of Turkey, who broke six world records in one night in Seoul, does the job quietly and effectively, although he might be cast

among the “blowers.” When Suleymanoglu walks slowly and confidently on to the stage his fringe moves up and down as he blows his way to the platform. Once his hands are tightly gripped around the barbells the tiny 1.52 m Bulgarian-born Turk opens his mouth wide enough to swallow the audience. “It is all up here,” says one West German trainer, tapping his head.