Written by Peter McGough
17 August 2014

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Mike Matarazzo: 1965-2014

The Fans Favorite Passes

 

 

THE MIKE MATARAZZO I KNEW

 This is very personal, and I’m not afraid to say my eyes are moist as I write this. Later this week this humble scribe will offer a wider ranging analysis of the life and times of Mike Matarazzo, but for now I just want to get personal about a man who called me friend, and of whom you never heard a bad word. Indeed, even though it is only several hours since the news of Mike’s demise broke, the outpouring of sadness and heartfelt sorrow online bears testimony to what everyone who knew him, and many who didn’t, felt for him. For reasons that will be explained later, the last time I spoke to him was September 2011,

 Quite simply Mike Matarazzo who died late last night (August 16), aged 48, while being considered for a heart transplant at Stanford University, California, was maybe the most popular and likeable professional bodybuilder ever. He was a high-octane friendly bundle of energy who bonded with fans more than any other bodybuilder I can remember, apart from maybe Tom Platz.

 There was, like Platz, empathy between Mike and fans -- he just connected with them. He would never brush off a fan or refuse a photo or autograph request even when he was making his way to imminent contest action. He loved the fans and they loved him. He once told me in 2002, “Even though I’ve been a pro for 11 years and traveled the world I never cease to be blown away by the enthusiasm fans show toward me. I’ll never let them down.”

 THE FAN HITS THE SHIT

 One episode I witnessed underscores how much Mike cared about fans. It was the evening before the 1992 Ms. Olympia in Chicago. Of course Mike wasn’t on flexing duty and neither was another well-known male pro that was there. A young fan came up to the other pro to ask for a photo only to be met with the abrupt response, “Not now, I’m busy, I’m due somewhere.” With that he strode off.

 Witnessing the scene, Mike put his hand on the young fan’s shoulder, and said, “Stay here kid, I’ll be back in a minute.” With that he bolted after the other pro, stopped him in his tracks and berated him thus: “Look Mr. Big Shot what you just did was unforgivable. That kid worships the ground you walk on – what do you think he thinks about you now? Just remember it’s the fans that pay for the magazines, the show tickets, the supplements, the photos and clothing that provides the money for the contracts we have. Without the fans, we would be nothing. Don’t ever forget that. Now get back there and have your photo taken with that kid.”

 You should know that Mike was a former amateur boxer of note, so when his definitive Boston accent, accentuated by the fire of his blazing eyes. told you to do something, it was only diplomatic to do it. So the pro went back and had his photo taken with his fan, but when he left the fan had a new favorite, Mike Matarazzo.

 HANGING OUT WITH MIKE

 Mike was born in Boston, Massachusetts, on November 8, 1965, and moved to Venice, California in 1991, the year I started to work for FLEX magazine. That same year Mike won his pro card by winning the heavyweight and overall titles at the USA Championships, beating Flex Wheeler in the process. He was noted for his enormous calves and arms, but even they paled in comparison to the size of his personality.

 Right from the get-go we got along but it has to be said, Mike got along with everybody. He would come to Weider HQ every couple of weeks or so and amuse the hell out of us office dwellers. He once lived in the same apartment block as Flex Wheeler and told a story about he came home one night to find an intruder peeping into Flex’s bedroom. He chased the guy, caught him, spun him around and then gave him a “cuff on the ear”. What happened then we asked? Mike in that broad Boston accent said, “He went down and flipped around like a floundaah.” Then with eyes bulging he pleaded, “I didn’t hit him that hard.” No just a cuff from a 260-pound bodybuilder renowned for the ferocity of his gym workouts.

 MIKE THE SHOWMAN

 But above all, as a bodybuilder, Mike was a showman; no one galvanized an audience quite like Mike. With that famous lickety split tongue sticking out he was a human tornado onstage. One incident, that I will always remember, summed up the showmanship skills of a man I used to call Mike Razzamatz.

 It was at the 1996 Night of Champions staged in New York, when by placing fifth Mike clinched a Mr. Olympia berth, and where in both the afternoon and night segments he proved to be the star of the show. As the afternoon prejudging ended there was an impromptu posedown during which the 245 pound Mike indulged in a boisterous shoving match with 285 pound Gunter Schlierkamp, which at one point presented the threat of somebody doing a double salko into the press pit.

 Afterward Mike said, “I try to have fun up there. Gunter’s a big boy but I wasn’t gonna give him any ground. Backstage we shook hands and laughed about it. My thing is you can push and shove all you like, get as physical as you want as long as nobody starts throwing punches. People like to see muscle go at muscle.”

 But Mike wasn’t finished inflaming the crowd. As the evening posedown wore on the other finalists (Flex Wheeler, Ronnie Coleman, Don Long and Milos Sarcev) decided to end it and exchanged handshakes before leaving the stage. With the music still blaring Mike stayed where he was, hit a most muscular and then looked back over his shoulder with a puzzled “Don’t anybody want to play?” look. He then went into a posing blitz at one point banging his right fist against his chest as if to say, “Who’s got the heart for this?” The audience went into a frenzy the likes of which this reporter has seldom heard; the noise was deafening. Ronnie Coleman reappeared and hit a most muscular, which Mike then duped as he screamed into Ronnie’s face “Let’s rock and roll man!”

 Chastened the other protagonists returned and tried to steal the spotlight from Mike. But it was too late. The night, the theater and the collective heart of the 3000 strong crowd belonged to Mike. At that moment in time, they would have awarded him that year’s Sandow. And the proudest man in the theater? Mike Matarazzo Sr. watching his son’s efforts from the confines of his wheelchair.

 THE LAST TIME

 By 2004 Mike had left Venice and moved to Modesto, California, when on December 8, of that year we heard the shocking news that he had undergone triple-bypass heart surgery at age 39. From then on Mike openly admitted he was living on borrowed time. He was very candid what had brought him to that point, and the feature planned for later in the week will address that.

 As time passed his health gradually declined and eventually he wasn’t fit enough to work. By now he was married to his devoted wife Lacey and they had two lovely children. I regularly kept in touch with him over the ensuing years. In 2007 I invited him to be our guest at the 2007 Olympia Weekend. He declined saying, “People won’t want to see me looking the way I do. I’m not Mike Matarazzo anymore.” I assured him that Mike Matarazzo would always be revered within bodybuilding circles and everyone would love to see him, but he wouldn’t budge on it.

 One October night in 2008 a rumor flashed around the chat rooms that Mike had passed away. I called Mike’s number. It was not the first time I had called a bodybuilding celebrity to find out if the grim reaper had visited. On such occasions I hear the person’s voice and say, “That’s all I need to hear.” This time my reaction took even me by surprise. As Mike asked, “What’s happening?” I suddenly got very emotional and Mike comforted me, “I’m alright man, come on now.” I realized how much I thought of this man who I had known at that point for 17 years. I relate this to try and give an insight how you just bonded with this guy.

 Over the next couple of years we kept in touch and then in September, 2011, he called and told me, “This is the last time we will ever speak and I want to thank you for your support and friendship over the years. Please don’t call me, respect my wishes.”

 I asked, “What’s wrong?” fearing that his health had taken a sudden turn for the worse. He replied that it hadn’t. He repeated that this would be the last time we would talk but didn’t really explain why. He concluded our final conversation by saying, “I love you, man.” I responded likewise and to my eternal regret I respected his wishes.

 Why did he want to sever ties at that point? In time I came to think it was because I knew how much he missed being the Mike Matarazzo who had graced so many covers, how much he had loved bodybuilding and how much it tore him apart that he couldn’t be a bodybuilder anymore, and maybe he wanted to put that Mike behind him. The words, “I’m not Mike Matarazzo anymore” surfaced in my memory bank. Maybe when he talked to me the recollection of that flexing Mike Matarazzo became too raw.

Rest in peace, Mike. We will never forget you and the larger than life personality and joy and inspiration you brought to so many. You went way to soon. And you’ll always be Mike Matarazzo to us.

 

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