When I started writing these “commentaries”, as Dave calls them, I promised I would share some stories and possibly even dispel or confirm some of the myths surrounding the man known as Dave “Jumbo” Palumbo. Please understand that these stories are from my recollection and Dave’s version may be slightly different. Just to be clear: My version is the truth.
In his present state of being, I’ve often heard Dave Palumbo referred to as being zen-like and/or very spiritual. While that may be true now, that isn’t the Dave I remember. The Dave Palumbo I grew up with was an animal. He was a real life version of The Hulk (at least in mindset) without the need for anger or stress to trigger a transformation. Dave would transform anytime he was involved in any level of competition be it mental or physical. Dave simply hated to lose (still does).
He wasn’t a natural athlete, but he approached everything (particularly soccer) with an unnatural ferocity. I can recall defenders being so scared of him they just got out of his way. His style of play wasn’t pretty. He was extremely unorthodox and he approached every game with reckless abandon caring as little for his own body as that of his opponents. He was also downright scary looking. While he didn’t have the musculature he later acquired, he looked like a crazed mutant with freakish vascularity and these giant pigeon-toed feet (yeah, sorry neither was because of GH abuse; so I guess 1st myth dispelled).
It’s perfectly normal for kids to make up games to play. In our case, a re-occurring game was war. There were various versions but typically we chose sides; set up small forts made of pillows and couch cushions in Dave’s basement; and then proceeded to literally kick the crap out of each other with everything we could find. And by everything I mean: rubber dodge balls, soccer balls, whiffle ball bats and yes, sadistic Dave, even took it to the level of using baseballs to inflict pain. It was not uncommon for one or more of our friends to cry during these play dates. I can recall Dave once pounded me in the head with a baseball at least 5 times proclaiming that I liked it and it didn’t hurt me until I just lost it and beat the hell out of him until he cowered away. I remember this because I had a headache for at least 2 days (likely a concussion but who knew about those things then). 
At this point you are probably asking yourself, “Who the hell would want to hang out with someone like that?” To be honest, when we were kids it wasn’t cool to be smart and most of the smart kids were basically nerds. Dave and I were probably the least bit nerdy kids each other could find and as such we formed a friendship. I guess I contributed to some of Dave’s violent tendencies but without me he could have easily descended into geekdom (as I explain later). I would drag Dave to see every Mad Max (we saw the original in the movie theater); Conan the Barbarian, violent gang related movie that came out. I was the one who got him interested in playing Dungeons & Dragons (which until we discovered girls, we played in marathon 12 hour sessions) (ok, that is geeky but this was fantasy football before fantasy football existed). Now, make sure you read this: I was the one who taught Dave how to lift weights. My dad had bought me and my brother a real nice home gym set (complete with lat pulldown) which we had in our garage. I think Dave used that more than we did. I would often wake up on Saturday morning to find Dave in my garage working out.
Now, all friendships go through ebbs and flows and ours was no different. During the latter part of high school, we pursued different paths. Dave gravitated more to the “nerdier” group (a group I got Dave accepted into, but that’s another story). A group my mom liked to call the 99th percentile because we all excelled in school and eventually graduated in the top 5% of the class. Since most nerds don’t lift weights or participate in contact sports, Dave gave all that up and started running both cross country and track. He took science classes during the summer. He became consumed with anything related to science or science fiction. Every so often I could get Dave to revert to his old self but really up until his senior year in college, Dave was stuck in the Bruce Banner mold. At that point, we come to what I like to refer to as the single most defining moment in the metamorphosis to Jumbo Palumbo.
The 99th percentile had come home for a college break. While I didn’t keep in touch with anyone other than Dave, I was always invited to the parties. Normally, I didn’t go because my idea of fun wasn’t playing pinochle and watching Star Trek but Dave told me the host had specifically bought me a six pack of beer. How could I turn that down? Knowing what type of crowd to expect I made sure to show up with a pretty good buzz. I knew I was going to have to find some way to amuse myself and that usually equated to poking fun at people. Inspired by Heineken and maybe a joint or two, I was relentless. Dave got the brunt of this ribbing and deservedly so. Most of our lives we were physically about the same size, with the edge going to Dave, and at this point he looked like he just got out of Auschwitz. I’d been trying for years to convince him to stop running around like an idiot and go back to the gym and he just wouldn’t listen.
Now even nerds are competitive and the 99th percentile was no different. One thing they always liked to do was challenge each other to feats of physical strength: pushups; sitting against a wall; and even arm wrestling. Dave always dominated these. For the most part I didn’t join in as I was usually too wasted and Dave would have been my only competition. Seeing the sorry state Dave was in, I knew I had no choice but to throw down the gauntlet. I told him that he had become such a sad weakling that even in my drunken stoned state I could kick his ass in an arm wrestling contest. I hoped by defeating him that he would be embarrassed and clamor for the Dave of old (little did I know I would unleash a monster). From the moment I issued the challenge, I could see in his eyes a glimmer of the old Dave. The only problem was he was a shell of his former self. Try as he may, he could not move my arm. I beat him easily. Not once, but twice. He had no chance. He could offer no explanation. I laughed and drank another beer.
All I know is from that day forward Dave didn’t run anymore. Dave started lifting weights again and when I saw him shortly thereafter he had put on 20 pounds of muscle. That 20 soon became 40. Dave was obsessed. All he wanted to do was get bigger. Nothing would stop him. Armed with his science background, Dave like a mad scientist set out to transform himself into the living embodiment of the hulk like creature that had always dwelled within him. We all know the result. Take a look at some of the photos of Dave when he was close to 300 pounds and peeled to the bone and tell me that isn’t both one of most impressive and scariest things you’ve seen.
Dave can try to deny it, but I know that that arm wrestling match was what set him on the path to Huge285 (and now you know it too). By the way, I’ve never arm wrestled him since….
