
DATE: Monday, October 20, 1997              TAG: 9710180070

SECTION: DAILY BREAK             PAGE: E1   EDITION: FINAL 

SOURCE: BY SCOTT HARPER, STAFF WRITER 

                                            LENGTH:  132 lines

RAWTALENT THE ``G-FORCE'' SQUAD OF HAMPTON ROADS SANITATION WORKERS ARE REALLY WORLD-CLASS OLYMPIANS

PRACTICING IN a dusty warehouse in T-shirts, hard hats and three days worth of stubble, they don't look like your typical world champions.

But there they are, sweating to fix a broken sewage pump in less than five minutes, racing the clock to repair a mock gas leak: Mike Harris, Paul Cubilla, Donnie Cagle and Wesley Warren - holders of the title ``Best Wastewater Treatment Plant Operators in the World.''

No kidding.

The team from the Hampton Roads Sanitation District - the ``G-Force,'' as they call themselves - has captured the world crown four out of the past nine years, most recently in 1996.

And on Tuesday, they go for another gold medal in the international Wastewater Olympics, held this year in Chicago.

No kidding.

An offbeat competition of strength, precision and engineering smarts, the games bring together the best and the brightest of a profession not always associated with either bestness or brightness.

The job of ``sewage operator'' often connotes the likes of Homer Simpson or Al Bundy. But here, they are asked to perform more like Rescue Rangers.

Contestants must sample chlorine residuals, calibrate a pH meter, race into a manhole filled with hazardous gas, and design an entire wastewater system - all while a judge is keeping time and watching for even the slightest of errors.

This is serious stuff. Last year, the king of Sweden was among the crowd that cheered 38 teams of blue-collar brawn that try to post the fastest times in five events. In taking the title, HRSD won three of the five tests.

``Hey, we go to win,'' George Gregory, the coach and founder of HRSD's G-Force team, said during a recent practice session. ``If we don't win, we're disappointed, sort of like the losers in the Super Bowl.''

While the competitors are definitely serious, their team names often are not. There is, for example, the ``Cream of the Slop'' from Canada. The ``Sludge Slingers'' from Indiana. And the ``Royal Flush'' also from Canada. (The Canucks have two teams going to the Big Dance this year.)

Since the roughneck games were launched 10 years ago by the Water Environment Federation, a trade group, there have been just two gold medal winners: HRSD (four times) and the team from Los Angeles, called the ``Wrecking Crew'' (five times).

The two top guns are friendly off the field - ``we e-mail each other; they're real good guys,'' said Cagle. But on the field, forget about it.

``Oh yeah, we're very serious when we're out there,'' said Harris, a fireplug of a guy, who, like most of his teammates, works at HRSD's Chesapeake-Elizabeth River sewage treatment plant in Virginia Beach.

``We may drink a couple beers with them afterward, but don't come near us during the competition,'' Harris said.

G-Force has been practicing for the Olympics since August. They work out together at least once a week, usually in the early mornings before their shifts begin. It's cooler then.

They videotape their rehearsals, watching for gaps in teamwork where they might make up a second or two during the real competition. Gregory, a retired HRSD operator, also keeps a stop watch going during their practices and takes notes on where he sees room for improvement.

``Speed and accuracy,'' the coach stressed as the keys to success. ``You've got to find a rhythm, sort of like a pit crew in NASCAR. Everyone has to know their role and place, and then go like crazy.''

Team members agreed that what sets them apart from the rest of the field is their dedication and experience.

``We know each other, we work at this hard,'' Cagle said. ``Other teams get out there and just haven't done their homework.''

On a recent morning, the team gets together at a musty old warehouse near the sewage plant. They drink coffee and kid each other. In addition to being teammates and colleagues, they are good friends.

They first practice their most accomplished event - the safety test. Two men are lowered into a hole where a gas leak has fictitiously occurred. Wearing respirators, the two must shut off the leak, repair it, climb back out of the hole, turn the sewage line back on, put their tools away and sprint to the finish line.

Before starting, as they always do, the four come together in a tight huddle and press their fists together. ``Let's go!'' they grunt.

The race is on, a frantic but well-choreographed scramble around a scaffolding that shakes under the weight and pace of the movement.

``Pick it up!'' barks Cagle, in many ways the captain of the team.

``Coming behind you!'' shouts Cubilla, the speed man of G-Force.

``Two minutes!'' reminds Gregory, holding up his stop watch.

They hit the line after a helter-skelter repair job that, under normal circumstances, could take hours, if not days, to complete. They high-five each other. It is a good time: 4 minutes, 34 seconds.

``Oh man, we do that in Chicago, we'll win this one,'' said Harris. That would not be much of a surprise: HRSD has won the safety event every year since 1993.

Because HRSD is a public agency, serving the sewage treatment needs of much of Hampton Roads, the team must pay its own way to the Olympics. No tax dollars are deployed here.

In much the same way that Little League teams finance their baseball uniforms, G-Force sells space on their official competition T-shirts. Cagle designs the shirts and hard hats himself, each year choosing a new motif.

Local engineering firms and contractors usually are more than happy to foot the bill. After all, the gold-medal winners get their picture in a wastewater-industry magazine, Operations Forum. And there is talk this year about the winners getting a commercial spot.

The team this year is slightly worried. Being the defending champs, they know ``everyone will be gunning for us,'' Harris said. And competitors are getting more and more sophisticated. Many videotape G-Force and copy their moves; others actually hire special consultants to speed their performance.

What's next, some team members joke, steroids?

Los Angeles also is not the only competition anymore. Teams from Florida and Arkansas are moving up the ladder. And the Canadians are learning.

``It's gonna be tough this year,'' Harris said. ``But, hey, if we bang every event, we'll win. I know it's arrogant to say that, but you've got to be that way.''

Once G-Force gets to an Olympic location, the team has been known to use their hotel furniture to practice their alignment for the coming events.

``Sometimes we wonder what the neighbors must think of four grown men huffing and puffing and all this furniture moving around,'' said Harris, laughing.

What about their wives?

Two of the team members are married, and their spouses ``pretty much understand us,'' said Warren with a shrug.

Pretty much?

``Well, we do tend to get into it,'' he said with a smile, ``but they do too. It's a lot of fun.'' ILLUSTRATION: RICHARD L. DUNSTON COLOR PHOTOS/The Virginian-Pilot

Wesley Warren, left, and Mike Harris...

Mike Harris...

Photo

RICHARD L. DUNSTON/The Virginian-Pilot

Donnie Cagle, right, and Paul Cubilla of the Hampton Roads

Sanitation District prepare a hoist for going into a simulated

manhole during a training exercise for the Wastewater Olympics in

Chicago.