The Spring of 1983

1983 was an exciting year for me. I was a freshman at Royal Oak Kimball High School and, like all other 14 year old kids, each day offered new surprises. Thinking back, it was during this time that I had decided to dedicate myself solely to the sport of competitive weightlifting. This was a hard decision, as I had an intense love of baseball also. I had recently completed the freshman football season with disastrous results. This wasn't because of a lack of devotion or love of the sport of football; rather it was because of sheer lack of size. Watching me play football was akin to watching an episode of Tom and Jerry, I being the mouse. I had spent a week in the hospital the previous fall due to a football related injury. My dreams of playing for the great Bo Schembechler were over.

Springtime, 1983:

March found me in St. Paul, Minnesota. This was the site of the Junior National Championships (under age 20). I competed in the 56 kilogram class (123 pounds). My efforts that day produced a silver medal, as well as a tremendous growth in confidence. This sport would now become the center of my existence; the one rock that I could always depend upon.

A little history: I was born and bred through the Mt. Olympus Barbell Club. Mt. Olympus had no money and, as a result, we drove everywhere. It was completely 'old school'. We would raise money through pop bottle drives and car washes. One year we were sponsored by the Ferndale Police Department. We earned everything from our weightlifting uniforms to our medals.

My brother Rick had accompanied our team on this trip to St. Paul. We drove from Detroit to St. Paul in a Ford Mustang, owned by the mother of a teammate. The drive to St. Paul was uneventful. It was I-94 all the way baby! The drive back to Detroit was quite the opposite. The start of the trip back was all fun and laughs, but that would quickly change. There were three of us in the car: myself, my brother, and my teammate. Rick was the oldest at 19. No other cars were accompanying us on the leg back. My coach had left the day prior, and we were flying solo. We had only enough money for gas and food. Remember, this was 1983. We had no credit cards, cell phones, or weather radar screens to inform us of the impending spring snowstorm.

We were near Chicago when the car decided to spin about 15 times on pure ice. We were traveling at 70 mph. I was certain the end was upon us! Upon reflection, we must have looked like Chevy Chase in National Lampoon's Vacation (the scene where he wakes up screaming after falling asleep at the wheel). Alas, after being towed out of the ditch, we were back underway. The fear of a semi trailer running us over were now behind us and, after two days of straight driving, we were finally home.

What I remember: The trip to St. Paul was important from an experience standpoint. Obviously, I took a huge step forward in my weightlifting career. I was 14 years old and hell bent on impressing my family and friends. To be candid, I was proud of showing my brother that I could step up in the face of pressure and chaos and be successful. Success not taking the shape of a hero, rather taking the shape of a grinding attack on a particular goal.

At this competition, I met a kid by the name of Bob Jones. He competed for a St. Paul club which name escapes me. Anyhow, Bob was and remains the funniest and toughest person I have ever met. When I say toughest in this context, I don't mean physical fighting ability, but rather an overall mental toughness and determination.

Immediately upon returning from this trip, I was able to set my sights on South Bend, Indiana. Notre Dame would be the site of the 1983 Junior Olympics.

In present day, I miss the opportunity to set short term goals and achieve them. Sure you can set short term goals in the workplace, but seldom are these goals as attainable as in sport. An individual sport allows that person to have absolute control over their circumstances. For me, having realistic short term goals gave each day particular meaning. The focus on the present was without distraction and worry. It is awful hard to find realistic short term goals in today's working society. Everything seems to be driven by the fictitious 'Pie in the Sky' mentality.

This excerpt is written primarily for myself, as I am retracing memories from a great time in my life. Although a brief writing, I hope the reader takes some enjoyment from its contents.

dave