This story is about me, the Canadian Colossus, and my unbelievable journey to the Night of Champions in New York City. It was 1996; I was still an amateur bodybuilder and had never been to the Big Apple. Naturally, I was very excited to go and check out the show. A friend of mine had an apartment and an extra ticket to the contest and he offered to give me the ticket and to let me stay at his place, so I booked a flight right away. I bet this sounds simple enough, right? Well, the flight was where the real action began.
Let me preface this story with the little known fact that most people don't know about me. I have struggled with severe air sickness and, not to mention, a fear of flying my whole life. This is definitely not the best situation for a bodybuilder that has to travel the world for guest-posings and appearances. Over the years, I had to adapt and deal with my issues. By utilizing air sickness pills and calming techniques, I became accustomed to flying. But back in 1995, it was still a serious issue.
I remember sitting there, eating chicken and rice right before my friend and I were supposed to board the plane. He shot me a look and said "Greg, maybe you shouldn't be eating before you fly." I laughed at him. It was my meal time and I would be going too long without food if I didn't eat before the flight. Little did I realize at the time what a disastrous mistake this was. After boarding the plane and wedging myself into my aisle seat, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself for the flight. For me, the takeoff and the landing are always the worst part. The plane taxied down the runway and I was easily holding my food down. Oddly, considering my size and the size of the airplane seat, I felt relatively comfortable. I exhaled a huge sigh of relief and settled in for a short flight.
Halfway into the flight is where the trouble started. We hit some turbulence, which wasn't too bad. Suddenly, we hit a huge air pocket and dropped what felt like 10,000 feet. Immediately, I started sweating profusely and had cold chills. Next, without warning, I projectile vomited all over the seats in front of me. And yes, those seats were occupied. What I found puzzling was that they just sat there as if nothing had happened and remained motionless. The stewardess brought me a huge garbage bag and I continued to vomit violently into the bag. In fact, I still remember the girl in the middle seat in front of me looking back and watching me every time I chucked up some more chicken. It was like she was enjoying it.
By the time the plane landed, I think I lost at least 5 pounds. I was so drained and pale that I looked like I was knocking on Death's door. As we exited the plane, my friend from New York was waiting to greet us. He was so excited to see me that he didn't even notice anything was wrong. He was a big fan of mine, so my being there was his only concern. I wanted to just sit down and regroup for a bit; but every time I tried to sit and relax, he wanted to hurry me to get in a cab before the rush hour started. So off we went and hailed a cab. Did I mention that his apartment was downtown? My friend and I jammed ourselves in the back and our host sat in the passenger seat. As we all know, New York cabbies are a little reckless. All that swaying around and slamming on the breaks really didn't help my stomach. I felt another hurl fest creeping up on me. I shouted at the cabbie to pull over or the back of his seat (and the back of his head) was toast. I've never seen anyone react so fast. At this point, it was rush hour and we were downtown - bumper to bumper. I opened my car door, the referee's bell rang and it was round 2 all over the street. From out of nowhere, this homeless guy came running over to me and I thought he was going to ask me if I was alright. To my surprise, this guy asks me "You're huge buddy, how much can you bench?" Somehow, I answered him in broken sentences between expulsions. He couldn't have cared less that I was spewing all over the floor and his shoes. The guy was friggin' nuts.
We got to his apartment with only enough time to clean up, drop off our bags and head over to the prejudging. Luckily, the prejudging was being held at the Beacon Theater just down the street. When we arrived, the prejudging had already started and the lobby was fairly empty. There were a few people and some of the IFBB Pros working their booths. As I walked past a few venders, I noticed Nasser sitting at a booth. The guy completely ignored me. The friend I was with said "Didn't that guy just stay at your house a few months ago? I thought u guys were friends, he just completely ignored you." I could say that this was a poor showing of character on his part; unfortunately, that would imply that he had character to begin with. But enough about Nasser; I discussed him enough last week.
After the prejudging I went back to my friends place, chowed a few meals and rested from my day. By the time the finals arrived, I was feeling much better and actually enjoyed myself. That was the year Ronnie Coleman and Flex Wheeler went head-to-head in a very close-fought battle. I don't think anyone who saw it would ever forget that show. The highlight of the entire weekend for me was after the show was over. I was leaving the venue and there was a huge crowd gathered in front of the Beacon Theater. As I exited, people started asking to take pictures with me and soon I had a large crowd gathering around, snapping pictures. They were all asking my name and where I was from. This was the first time that ever happened to me. It made me believe that maybe I was something special and could someday be famous like the champions I had just watched on stage. It was a great end to a terrible beginning. After that I went home with new confidence. That summer, I went on to turn pro. And the rest, as they say, is history!
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