A long and winding road in quest for gold

March 8 2004

St. CATHARINES, Ont. - One look at his face told you how big the stakes were here. The lump under Daniel Igali's right eye was the size of an egg. A small gash had been freshly stitched, yet blood seeped through the tiny Band-Aid just put in place by a local doctor.
Igali sat back in a plastic chair in a gym at Brock University, surrounded by well-wishers. His legs were stretched out before him. The shoulder straps of his wrestling suit hung around his waist, exposing a meticulously chiselled upper body coated with a fine film of sweat. He had done it. He would be going to Athens, going for gold. Again. And, if this trip to the Olympics seemed harder than the last, it was because it was.

After entering our collective consciousness by dancing around a Canadian flag in Sydney, Australia, before bending down and kissing it, there seemed to be one setback after another for our Olympic gold medalist in freestyle wrestling. There were injuries, a serious one to his neck which resulted in a major operation and a metal plate being permanently implanted near the top of the spine. Then there was another to his ribs, which prevented him from competing at the Canadian Olympic trials.

On top of those concerns, the Nigerian-born wrestler had to deal with the death of his father back in the village of Eniwari, where he grew up. It was the same village where Igali had, after his victory in Sydney, promised to build a new school. Fundraising for the project had gone slowly, which increasingly became a concern and a distraction for Igali. It showed in his results on the mat.

Finally, there had also been a major restructuring of weight classes for the Games in Athens. Igali, who won gold wrestling in the 69-kilo division, would now have to jump to the 74-kg class. It was a quantum leap, which meant the 5'4" Igali would be facing men even larger than the ones he was used to wrestling. His only hope was beating them with his world-renowned speed and explosiveness, the same weapons that took him to the top of the podium in Sydney.

Wrestling in his new weight category, the 30-year-old Igali had finished a disappointing 11th at the world championships last year in New York, a result just shy of a guaranteed spot to Athens. Igali was injured when the Canadian Olympic trials were held last year, which would have been another opportunity for him to qualify for Greece.

Instead, the 74-kilo division was won by Igali's arch-rival, Zoltan Hunyady, a 28-year-old science teacher from Fergus, Ont., known mostly for finishing second to Canada's Olympic champ in meet after meet.

However, there was an injury provision that allowed Igali a crack at Hunyady. It meant a two-match showdown.

As the challenger, Igali would have to win both of them to grab Hunyady's ticket to Athens. And, just before 3:30 p.m. Saturday afternoon in a Brock University gym, the two combatants stepped on to the floor.

With the CBC broadcasting the event live, you could feel the tension and see it on the faces of the two wrestlers. The match began tentatively, with Hunyady pawing at Igali's face with his left hand. Igali backed away after being struck near the eye. When they rejoined, Hunyady employed the same tactic. Igali had seen enough.

You could hear the whack a mile away. It was the sound of Igali's open hand landing against the sweaty face of Hunyady. As slaps go, it was worthy of Hollywood. Momentarily stunned, Hunyady charged at Igali, his fists pumping. He landed three blows, one cutting Igali open under the right eye. The 500 wrestling fans in attendance were stunned. Most had never seen anything like this in their lives, especially involving a wrestler as decorated as Igali.

Officials quickly restored calm and the two men were pushed towards their respective coaches.

The event had taken on the look of a boxing match, with Igali's corner working furiously to staunch the blood flowing from the cut under his eye while at the same time trying to calm their guy down. Igali even shook his arms and legs like a boxer while his coach, Dave McKay, massaged his neck.

Normally, any wrestler throwing a punch is automatically disqualified. For some reason Hunyady was only penalized one point for his actions, while Igali got one too, for his slap.

But for all intents and purposes, the match was over. Igali looked more focused and fired up than ever when the match resumed while Hunyady looked lost and unsure of himself. Igali would destroy him 8-1.

There would be a second match, for everything.

If Hunyady won he would get to live a lifelong dream of competing for his country at the Olympics.

A win by Igali meant that arguably the most charismatic and popular amateur wrestler in this country's history would get another shot at gold.

There would be no fisticuffs this time. In fact, the whole match was rather tame and anti-climactic considering what was on the line. When it was over, Igali's speed and deceptiveness were too much for Hunyady, and he would win 4-0.

Hunyady would leave the gym near tears.

Igali would too, but for different reasons.

"I have faced way more adversity getting to these Olympics than the last," Igali said afterwards. "The last couple of years have been tough, what with all the injuries and other stuff. I'm just coming into my own now."

Igali said it was the emotion of the moment that led the surreal beginning in the opening match.

His first reaction, he said, was to strike back at Hunyady with three punches of his own. But he knew this played right into his opponent's hands and probably into his game plan too.

"The only way he was going to beat me was to try and throw me off my game," Igali said. "And I think that's what he tried to do. We knew he was going to come out swinging, but we didn't know he was actually going to start throwing punches."

This might have been Igali's last meaningful wrestling match had he lost. With no chance of going to the Olympics, what would there have been to shoot for? Not much, Igali admitted. At the same time, he wanted to make it clear he wasn't going to Athens just to get more pictures for his scrapbook. Not a chance.

Igali said he will only go if he feels he has a realistic shot of winning. He hasn't faced the world's top competitors in his new weight division being completely healthy. He is now and, over the next few months, he plans to see where he stands. Depending on how he does, he will either cash in the ticket he just took from Hunyady or give it back.

"I'm not going there [Athens] for a jamboree," said Igali. "I'm going there to compete and to hopefully win. But if my results before then aren't what they should be, aren't at a world level, then I won't go. I won't make a fool of myself."

Igali knows that with his victory here comes a new wave of expectations, hours and hours of intense training, hours and hours of anguish too.

"This will be my greatest challenge yet," Igali said. "It's something that keeps you up at night. It really does. But that's why I do this. To stretch myself as far as I can, to see what is possible."