THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Tuesday, October 22, 1996 TAG: 9610220401
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BY ED MILLER, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: VIRGINIA BEACH LENGTH: 112 lines
Forearms. Most people go through life never giving them a second thought - or look.
But it's impossible to gaze upon the lower arms of Norman Devio and not marvel at what God - and decades of training for gymnastics and arm-wrestling - hath wrought.
Devio, 56, is a physical education teacher with wavy, graying hair and forearms that bring to mind the kind of rock formations you might see in southern Utah. Each is as thick as the Manhattan phone book and ridged with little outcroppings of muscle.
On Monday at the Virginia Beach Pavilion, site of the 17th Annual World Armwrestling Championships, Devio was going for his first world title, in the 154-pound master's division. Standing in his way was eight-time world champ Ray Taglione, a 42-year-old physical therapist from Jacksonville, Fla.
Once arm-wrestling gets you in its vise-like grip, it does not let go. Devio had not competed in the nationals since 1990. But since this year's nationals were held in New York, he got the bug again, competed and qualified for the world championships.
He came from Hopkinton, Mass., which is not nearly as far as most competitors have come. On Monday, the athletes - more than 400 of them - sat in the Pavilion's portable bleachers like delegates at a political convention, with signs identifying their country:
Uzbekistan, Lithuania, Slovakia, Hungary, Norway, Japan, Sweden, and many more.
``There's no money involved,'' says Richard Kimble, editor of The Armbender magazine, the sport's bible. ``They just do it for the love of the sport.''
But while the sport exerts a strong grip, the same can't always be said for the competitors themselves. Occasionally, they can't get a grip - literally - and the referee has to strap their hands together.
That's what happens in the second of three matches between Devio and Taglione. After Devio and Taglione break and re-break several grips, the referee binds their clenched hands together. They hold the grip - shaking and straining - as they await a single word: ``Go.''
``There's a lot of anticipation,'' Taglione says later. ``Some guys watch the ref's mouth, trying to see him form the word. I've always wanted to pin someone before the ref finished saying the word.''
This time it's Devio who gets the upper hand. Devio turns Taglione's wrist - a tactic crucial to victory. Taglione battles, his right leg dancing like it's been charged with electricity. But Devio puts him down.
Tied at one win apiece, they'll have one more ``pull'' for the world title.
Arm-wrestling. Everyone's done it. Anyone can do it. It is elemental. Man vs. Man. Woman vs. Woman.
``It ought to be in the Olympics,'' says Kimble. ``The matches are over in seconds. Any country can compete, because it's not expensive. It's uni-sex, and people of any size can do it.''
It's not in the Olympics, although it is a growing sport. This year's championship is the biggest ever.
Fifteen years ago, there were only four countries in the world organizing body, called the World Armsport Federation.
Today, there are 70, including hot spots like Brazil, the former Soviet republics and India. About half are represented at the championships.
``In our old ancient villages texts, we have arm-wrestling mentioned,'' says India's Barij Das, general secretary of the WAF.
India is such a hotbed that the WAF is run out of Calcutta - and Scranton, Pa. Scranton is also home to the American Armwrestling Association.
Taglione has arm-wrestled in front of 5,000 in Calcutta. They're expecting 10,000 next year in Brazil.
On Monday, though, there was no one around but the athletes, their families, and meet officials. In the United States, the sport has yet to catch on.
``People still think of it as something you do in barrooms,'' says Devio's daughter, Michelle Thrain, who came from Nashville to watch her father compete.
Some competitors got their starts that way - in bars, or on high school lunch tables.
``When I was in high school I could beat everybody,'' says Ray Darling, a two-time world champ from Albany, N.Y. ``When I was in the Army, same thing.''
Darling began entering tournaments and found out quickly - as everyone does - that brute strength alone is not enough.
Of course, brute strength doesn't hurt. One of the sport's best-known characters is Cleve Dean, a pig farmer from Georgia.
``Cleve's a legend,'' Kimble says. ``Cleve weighs about 600 pounds.''
For the most part, though, what wins is technique - speed and timing.
``It's like a wrestling match on a table top,'' says Taglione. ``Speed, endurance, everything come into play.''
Joe Clifford, a roofer from Easton, Mass., proves that point when he defeats a thicker-armed Canadian to win a world title in the 176-pound class.
``Arm-wrestling really is a misnomer,'' Clifford says. ``It's hand wrestling. Take the hand and the arm will come with it - or it'll come off.''
Clifford's never seen that happen. But there can be other injuries nearly as graphic. Darling was competing in 1992 when he snapped his biceps tendon.
``My bicep rolled right off my arm,'' he says.
Devio and Taglione are back for their third ``pull.'' They lock hands, and Devio appears to have the upper hand again.
But then Taglione makes a clever move. He pushes Devio's elbow off the back of the pad - disqualifying Devio. It's perfectly legal, but Devio says he would never use that tactic to win a match.
Taglione says his matches with Devio are always close.
``Look at these scars,'' he says, pointing to his right arm. ``We're not playing out there.''
Other competitors walk around with leg warmers on their arms. A few hold bags of ice to their elbows. Darling says the pain is worth it.
``The thing I like about it,'' says Darling. ``Is that the victory is so individual. It's yours. It's a high, to win.'' ILLUSTRATION: Color photos
BILL TIERNAN/The Virginian-Pilot
At top, Norman Devio of Hopkinton, Mass., wrestles Ray Taglione of
Jacksonville, Fla., in the finals of the 154-pound master's
division, top. Above, Marsha Eanes of Martinsville, Va., hugs her
victim, Tokuo Saito of Japan, in the finals of the women's masters. by CNB