Stealing The Arm Wrestler's Secrets: Nash Vs. Professional Arm Wrestlers! 

    During spring time in the States one year, after my Shugyo in Alaska, during the few years I was focused on being the best Karate Uchi Deshi I could be, I was in the gym working out. Over the course of those years I had a lot of short training adventures and random-ish martial arts experiences. This is one such experience. I had just finished one of those workouts that leaves you shaking when you try to move because your nervous system is fried ( way too much over training), and when you try to walk or lift your arms you look silly.  As I was on my way out, someone struck up a conversation with me.  In our talk he let slip that he was a professional arm wrestler.  A man my height but much thinner and more sinewy.  I knew what I had to do.

    I said to him "you know what I have to do...", and he looked at me knowingly.  I said " I challenge you to an arm wrestling match!"  He said "here? now?"

Right here, right now.  Then I grinned and let him know that I had just finished a killer workout, I could barely move..."If I lose.. I’m calling a rematch in advance".

    Bare in Mind, I had never been trained in arm wrestling and hadn’t done it for years, but I just had to.

I won.  First right hand, then left.

    "You’re really strong, seriously...But it takes more than that.  Arm wrestling is ALL technique"  said the man.

    He then explained to me that he was preparing for a large arm wrestling competition in the summer time.  It was out of state and he would be competing in the 145lb weight class.

    I was shocked.  145lbs!?!  I weighed 179lbs.  Beating him was nothing for me to be proud of.  Though I figured that since he was a professional, and I was untrained and so exhausted, that if I were rested I could hold my own against bigger guys.

    Almost as if reading my mind he assured me again, arm wrestling is all technique.  He explained that there are secret techniques and special moves. 

Like a person ignorant in anything, I had wrongly assumed that what my untrained eye saw, was all there was.

    Like these people, I was wrong.

    I thanked him for the knowledge, and told him I would love to learn the technique.  He gave me some tips, I wished him luck and told him to let me know how he did, and we parted ways.

    -Summer time, 2 months later-

   I was entering the gym when who should I see again?  Arm wrestler.  We exchanged pleasantries and he told me that at the end of the week, on Friday, all the arm wrestlers where gathering at a honky tonk bar to hold a competition to get them in the zone for the big one they where all preparing for.

    He said I should go.  I told him thanks for the info.

I was excited.  "learning the arm wrestling technique", I thought to myself " this will put me one step closer in understanding my martial art.  I’ll go, and I’ll steal their technique."

    The next day, on our walk about, I told my teacher about the conversation, trying in vain to hide my excitement.  After some minutes passed I asked if he thought I should go.  ( a subtle way of asking permission without directly asking).  He said " You can go, if you want.  The decision is yours."  Letting my excitement loose I explained how I would go and steal there secrets, that way I would become so much stronger.  He smiled, and said I should bring a friend to share the excitement.

    Friday night, myself and a friend, Anthony, rode up to the honky tonk bar.  The Iron Horse Road House.  We arrived at 5:30pm but competition wasn’t scheduled until 6.  The trip had taken us a couple hours, so a half hour early wasn’t so bad.

    When we walked in, the place was almost empty.    Disappointing.  We sat down and joked about how, maybe, there might not be that many people showing up.  I went to the registration table and entered. 

"Name?"  Nash.  "Nash what?"  Just Nash.  "Good enough for me," said the lady behind the table.  "weigh in, take these papers, read the rules."  Thank you.  I had had quite a bit of water to drink so I weighed in at 182lbs.  I was placed in the 180-230lbs category.  That was for the right arm.  I registered for the left hand also, which had no weight categories.  Almost instantly the place started filling up.  More and more people kept coming in to wrestle, so they pushed the start time back to 7, then to 7:30.

    I don’t know what I was expecting, but these people where big.  Huge.  Some where monsters.  Sitting around was making me antsy.  I locked eyes with another wrestler, much larger than myself.  "wanna warm up?" asked the guy.  Yeah.  We took out positions.  I was determined to learn their secrets.

    In the blink of an eye, I was beaten.  I asked to go again, the same thing happened.  Again and again.  The same every time.  Then, he would no longer wrestle me, but offered me a piece of advice on technique.

    I had been given a piece of the puzzle.  After wetting my appetite, and being soundly defeated, I wasn’t about to stop there.  I challenged the biggest guy I could find.  Obliterated.  Again.  Again.  He wouldn’t go anymore, but he gave me a tip on technique.

    Step by step, I was determined to get the hang of it!

    This pattern repeated for awhile.  Eventually, everyone was watching as I got destroyed and came back for more; then moved to another guy when someone didn’t want to beat me anymore.  

    I challenged huge men, with arm wrestling scars.  Some had had bones broken, others, tendons ripped.  One man had had his arm almost completely destroyed in a match and he had to be rushed to the hospital for emergency surgery.  He had plenty of scars to show for it.  I didn’t want to end up like these guys, and I didn’t care about competitive arm wrestling, I just wanted to know it’s secrets.

    Anthony came up to me after awhile.  "hey, I registered to wrestle." he said.  Really? why?  "Why the hell not?  Listen for my name, I used an alias; it’s a good one."   Got it.  He had had a couple of beers by this point.  Maybe they gave him more confidence?

    After people had watched me be defeated and come back for more so many times, they started to warm up to me.  One man who looked like Johnny Cash shouted "you won’t be good at arm wrestling just because you lift a lot of weights and look good."  If he only knew, conventional weight lifting isn’t exactly a staple of mine.  Total strangers would come up and offer their advice on arm wrestling.  After someone got tired of beating me they would smile, give me some tips and buy me a beer or two.  Incredibly nice people.  I didn't drink at the time though, so I gave them all to Anthony.  Eventually HE didn’t even want them anymore;  He stopped drinking them, which upset me a little, because I hate to waste things.

    A booming voice over the speakers: "Competition Start!  John smith versus Don Johnson!"

The competition had begun.

"Next up.  Dave Black versus Nash!"

    I gave it my all, I heard a "Kraupppoppop" come from my shoulder.  I lost, and my shoulder had quickly popped in and out of it’s socket.

    Man, I thought, Gonna have to watch that, but I’m not stopping now.

"Next!  Jeff Thrasher versus Johnny Hotcakes!"

I looked at Anthony and he chuckled.  "Hotcakes, that’s me"

    He was destroyed.  And by the toughest guy in the whole place. All he did was sit in the back and drink beer and smoke stogies until he was called.  Then he would come up, beat whoever was there, and repeat.

    The next guy I went against I put most of my energy into keeping my shoulder in socket.  Then I felt a snap from my wrist and lost strength in it.  I wasn’t going to stop.  After that match, once my wrist went past a certain angle, all my strength fell out of it.

    I continued challenging people on the side, while the main competition was going on.

    After all was said and one, I arm wrestled about 40 times that night, each time giving it everything I knew how.  I even managed to win 4 times.  Once against Anthony "Johnny Hotcakes", and a few times against people 40lbs lighter than myself.

    We left at about1 in the morning, and I was asleep a little after 3.  Just in time to take a small nap so I could get up and compete in a karate tournament.

    When  I woke up I found my Right hand wasn’t functioning quite right and I needed to bandage it.  My left arm wasn’t good either.

    I went to the tournament. tired, sore...

    I gave it my then-best.  I lost.

   On our daily walk-about, I told my teacher about what had happened.  He said he already knew.  He said:

" I knew the outcome.  You’re heart wasn’t at the tournament.  You where focused on the arm wrestling.  I knew what would happen at the tournament if you went to the arm wrestling.  I couldn’t tell you not to go, or you would be bitter and resent me.  You  would always wonder what it would have been like.  Likewise, I couldn’t tell you to go, or you would blame me, subconsciously, for your performance at the tournament, and your current state.  I left the decision up to you, knowing what you would do.  You had to make the mistake yourself in order to learn.  As your teacher, I needed to allow you that opportunity.  Learn from it."

    He was right.  He did have his moments, tucked somewhere between crazy training and equally crazy lectures.

For a few days my right hand was taped up and my left arm was stuck at a 90 degree angle at the elbow, like the English letter "L".




Surprisingly no damage though. That was some time ago, and I’ve been fine ever since... Not for lack of trying though.




-Nash