Arnold by Arnold Schwarzenegger

Author:Arnold Schwarzenegger
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster

Fun at Venice Beach

Competing with Reg Park for NABBA Mr. Universe, 1970

Posing with Frank Zane after winning my fifth Mr. Universe title

I couldn’t believe it. Here I was competing against my idol, whose pictures I’d hung up all over my bedroom, whose words I’d lived and trained by. Thinking about it left me with this weird, unreal sensation. I said to myself, “There are two possibilities open to you: one is to beat Reg, and you most likely will, and destroy your idol; and the other is to leave London and not compete at all.” I decided that leaving was stupid. It would be good for my ego and good for publicity to compete against Reg, to destroy my idol and win. We were both competitors, sportsmen, and there was a dignity in that. I didn’t look at it as beating Reg Park but as being able to step up beside him, to finally share an equal place with him.

I entered the competition and I did beat him. He placed second, and Dave Draper third. It was one of the toughest Mr. Universes ever witnessed. It was the hardest year, period. Everybody went to London, Reg Park, Dave Draper, Boyer Coe and Dennis Tinnerino.

One day later the Mr. World contest was being held in Columbus, Ohio. All the eligible contestants flew immediately to New York. The contest officials picked us up in a private jet to insure our making it to Columbus on time. Another shock: Sergio Oliva was there. I hadn’t expected him yet. I thought Mr. World would be an easy win and then I could go on to the Mr. Olympia contest two weeks later in New York and then face Sergio. At that point I wasn’t sure I was ready for him, mentally. But I was feeling really strong after beating Reg Park and all the other previous Mr. Universe title holders, and I figured I was well on my way. My momentum was up. I had to do it. “Now’s the time, Arnold,” I told myself. “Screw you, Sergio. You can’t bug me any more. This time I’m going to take over.”

We started pumping up and getting ready. I kept watching Sergio, comparing our bodies in the mirrors. I was not wiped out, as I had been the year before. Sergio looked good. He had the kind of body that from the waist up seems as though it will never quit getting bigger. But I was cut, just really perfect. Everything was really in—separation, definition, everything—and I felt confident. I went onstage with the host and was met with tremendous applause. I didn’t know where it was coming from. It was a total surprise. Ohio? Nobody thinks of Ohio as a fan’s state. But the applause continued and any apprehension I had fled.

I felt the pressure so deeply the prejudging and the show seemed to blend in my mind. It became all one fantastic push forward. I felt taller, bigger, more muscular, more graceful. I got high from the force of the pump.

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