Sport: Atlas Come to Life

Atlast Come to Life

The greatest weight lifter of modern times, and one of the world’s most remarkable athletes, is a stocky, Sacramento-born Nisei named Tommy Kono, 29. He wears horn-rimmed glasses, speaks with unfeigned modesty, and seems as innocuous as Clark Kent—until he takes off his clothes and sets to work. Then Kono becomes Superman himself.

Last week, at the A.A.U. championships and Olympic tryouts in Cleveland, Kono carefully put aside his glasses, chalked his hands, and approached the bar bells like old and honored adversaries. As always, his lifts were marvels of split-second timing and raw power. When Kono was done, he had hoisted a total of 865 Ibs. in three lifts to win his eighth national title, qualified easily to compete for the U.S. in the 165-lb. weight-lifting class at the Rome Olympics this August.

Kono virtually guarantees the U.S. a gold medal. Undefeated in world championship competition since 1952, he has broken some 30 world records. Even more unusual, Kono seems able to gain or lose weight at will and still lick the planet. In the Olympics he won the 148-lb. class in 1952, the 181-lb. class in 1956. In non-Olympic competition, he set a world record in the igS-lb. class.

Now a resident of Hawaii, Kono was so asthmatic as a child that his worried mother tried such Oriental remedies as burning small amounts of fluff directly against his body. In 1945, while he and his family were quartered in a wartime relocation camp, Kono began fooling around with weights, soon rid himself of the asthma, changed from a 105-lb. weakling into a genuine Atlas.

Confidence. To Tommy Kono, the secret lies in the power of positive thinking. “Successful weight lifting is not in the body,” says Kono. “It’s in the mind. You have to strengthen your mind to shut out everything—the man with the camera, the laugh or cough in the audience. You can lift as much as you believe you can. Your body can do what you will it to do.

“I don’t think of my opponent, even in a close contest. I never would say to myself, ‘I hope he slips.’ That’s a negative attitude. Saying that, you’re relying on outside help to win. Praying doesn’t help, either. That’s also relying on outside help. The will has got to come from me, It’s all up to me.

“Just before bending down for the bar, I look up. That relaxes my back. I get the feeling that my direction is up. Then I grip the bar and take a deep breath and arch my back. Then I feel in the mood. I feel like a pouter pigeon. When I feel tension on my lower back, I rock backward, and the weight comes up automatically. I think of the steps, not the weight. Thinking of the weight would unnerve me.”

Doubt. A medical technician, Kono stokes himself on vitamin pills, minerals and protein tablets. To gain weight, he eats five meals a day while varying the menu from Chinese to Japanese to Italian to American. Bachelor Kono’s diligence draws high praise from Bob Hoffman, vice chairman of the A.A.U. weight-lifting committee: “Kono is dedicated. Others get married, bring their wives to contests. You can’t win that way. If a wife is cooperative and accepts the fact that bar bells come first, a weight lifter might succeed. Otherwise,, there is no place for a wife in a champion’s life.”

But in frank moments Kono admits that he is about fed up with weight lifting: “At the start it was joy. Now it’s an ordeal. I’m a special target of the Russians. I’m always under pressure to defend a title or break a record.” In fact, Kono is talking of quitting after this year. To ease his ennui in the meantime, he bends nails with his fingers, drives spikes into boards with his fist, blows up hot-water bottles until they burst, and looks forward to the Olympics—when he will have the chance to become the first weight lifter in history to win gold medals in three different classes.