My shot at glory

This muscle man got his chance at becoming the next American Gladiator — and almost slept through the big day.

 by Michael McGillicudy
 published on Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Sam Nalven / STATE PRESS MAGAZINE

A couple months ago, American Gladiators came to town for an open tryout. I'm not the biggest guy, but I am in pretty good shape. At least it'd be funny to say I tried out. I completed the lengthy application, copied my driver's license and called it a night. I dreamed of The Wolf, fighting with those giant cotton swabs, and of course, winning the whole thing. And then I overslept. Groggily looking at my clock, I realized my alarm hadn't gone off (thanks, cell phone!). Gone were my meticulous plans for a protein-packed breakfast — a bowl of cereal supplemented that. Gone was my strategy of early-morning footwork drills. The one-foot jig of brake and gas pedal would have to do.

I arrived at the gym in Chandler where the tryouts were held. Initially, the line didn't look too long. Fifty to 100 people, maybe. Getting closer, I saw it snaked around a corner. Then another, and another, onward into the horizon. Man! I thought, I'll be here forever. And I was. The minutes turned into hours as I inched forward. I studied for an archaeology test, which sure brightened my mood. After a couple of fun hours standing and staring at notes, a man behind me started up a diatribe about Hillary Clinton and other current events. According to our expert, Clinton, "is a lesbian, like, for a fact." Also, "Because of the mortgage crisis, there will be blood running in the streets. The best things to invest in are gold and guns right now." Sound advice if I ever heard it.

After a few more hours of not moving, I wandered into the gym, looking to ask someone in charge if they were going to get to everyone. Before I could get my question out, the registration lady snatched my application and ordered me to the side for my photo. I realized that I had been granted a pass in front of hundreds of people. Not wanting to do the right thing, I played along and willed myself not to grin from ear to ear to give myself away.

After "kicking ass" (according to my interviewer) in the pull-ups, I ran as fast as possible up and down a basketball court for a minute and then had an interview. Between gasps for air, I told the lady about my quirks and why I'd be good on the show. I left the gym, expecting to hear shrieks of outrage as my crime was discovered. But no discovery was made and no screams were heard. I got away with something I shouldn't have that day. I cut in front of a lot of people, which wasn't right. Oh well! It was awesome!

— Reach the writer at: spm@asu.edu

»Send us your own life story at spm@asu.edu