The Classic Physique - Should it Have Ever Gone Away?
The Classic Physique
Should It Have Ever Gone Away?
The 2016 introduction of the Classic Physique division seems a further indication that bodybuilding as it was first envisioned is, if not disappearing into the sunset, certainly not set to experience a new dawn.
Modern bodybuilding is really a post-WWII phenomenon, with its first dominating competitor being the 1940 and 1941 Mr. America, John Grimek, who doubled as an Olympic lifter representing the USA at the 1936 Olympics. He kept that pre-eminence through 1949. The first and one of the biggest, even now, superstars was Steve Reeves, who won the 1950 NABBA Mr. Universe, which was then the contest that decided the best-built man on the planet. (The Mr. Olympia wasn’t launched until 1965.) Today, Reeves (who went on to star in Italian blood-and sandals movies, and was at one time the highest-paid film actor in Europe) is still the poster boy for many who believe his look represents the criteria for the (can we use the word) classic physique. With his wide shoulders tapering to a wasp-like waist and general development, he was seen as the blueprint for the perfect bodybuilder.
Indeed, at the 2015 Arnold Classic, the contest’s namesake— in his well-publicized proclamations against “bottle bodies” and “distended stomachs” — said, “Look at the old days when Steve Reeves won. If you saw him at the beach, you’d say to yourself, ‘I would love to have this guy’s body, look how beautiful this man looks.’ But that’s not what we can say about these guys who win the competitions today.”
Reeves defined the bodybuilding formula, which unofficially read, “A physique that exhibits proportion and balance throughout all muscle groups, and in which musculature is hard and separated. Plus, the shoulder girth is wide and the waist small, to give the optimum V-taper look.” It’s not being advocated that no one should exceed the 210 pounds Reeves exhibited on his 6’1” frame, but rather that progress should equate to following the guidelines in the aforesaid formula.
CH-CH-CH-CH-CHANGES
That mandate held true for decades, the flag being flown by the likes of Reg Park and Bill Pearl in the ‘50s, Sergio Oliva in the ‘60s, Arnold Schwarzenegger and Frank Zane in the ‘70s, and Samir Bannout and Lee Haney in the ‘80s.
And then as the ‘90s progressed, things began to change. Many pinpoint Dorian Yates as the watershed athlete who altered the focus of what constituted a winning physique, and blame him for symmetry taking a backseat. I could debate all day with those who say the six-time Mr. Olympia lacked symmetry— check out his 1993 winning form. The truth is (and this can be expanded on in another article) that what Yates initiated was the all-out pursuit of “condition” by his peers, in an effort to be comparable or even surpass his granite-like hardness, dryness and fullness, that maybe even today hasn’t been equaled. In tandem with the chase for condition was the quest for mass, in order to compete with the trendsetting Brit.
Thus, it seemed that condition came to be the winning, and eventually the ultimate, credential for success— ahead of proportionate development and classic shape. So we had the farce of one of the best bodybuilders ever, Flex Wheeler, being considered off if his glutes weren’t striated. We witnessed a sort of reversal of fortunes, where washboard abs set off with a vacuum pose receded in importance, to that body part lurking on the other side of the torso. It’s a personal thought that glutes— ripped or otherwise— belong covered by a pair of trunks, and are not to be displayed in the manner that occurs in some (not that there’s anything wrong with that) specialized Vegas joints— or so I’m told, y’understand. C’mon, the only cut necessary in the posterior area is the functional one we are born with.
How strange that the abs (at one time, the barometer of leanness and the partner to wide shoulders in attaining the V-taper, and the most sought-out body part by the public at large for improvement) should be considered an inferior prerequisiteto winning, in comparison to the glutes. Seems a little “ass backward,” don’t you think?
The likes of Reeves, Schwarzenegger, Zane and Haney never even thought of getting their butts into a state where they could be described as hot cross (striated) buns: a British Commonwealth delicacy— Google it. Indeed, the only ass Arnold concentrated on during his bodybuilding career was the ones he was going to kick.
Dammit, in those far-off days, we never saw bloated stomachs or physiques that seemed to be assembled under the guidance of Shrek on crack. All the top guys seemed to offer something dramatic, something awesome in their physique without going into Frankenstein science experiment territory.
NO GUT REACTION IN SCORING
These days, it seems that bloated stomachs are not penalized, and are accepted as much a part of the game as amateur bikini girls faffing around in hotel lobbies in pajamas or robes, with curlers in their hair and a jug of water in their hand. (Hmm, cue another article.) Thus, we witnessed an outbreak of “show me the way to the maternity ward” displays by a slew of candidates at the 2013 Arnold Classic, without any reduction to their scores. And then at this year’s Arnold (even after warning that such shortcomings would be penalized), we had Kai Greene’s stomach, and others, doing routines of their own during prejudging. To be fair, Kai righted the belly problem at the finals, where his look and posing overcame Cedric McMillan, who was leading after the prejudging. A personal thought is that Cedric should still have won, but it seems a protruding midsection is not severely penalized— as in, for instance, being thrown out of the top six or being relegated to last.
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With the introduction of the Classic Physique division, the thought cannot be resisted that the message is now, “OK, here’s the arena for the old-school look, now let the open guys be as freaky as they can be.” I understand those who say the freakier the better, but interest in numbers for that look is waning, and that’s worth another column.
CONCLUSION
I know, I know, this column could be interpreted as the ramblings of an aged geezer bemoaning— as every generation does— “Things were so much better in my day.” (Mark my words all you 20 and 30 somethings will someday have the same sentiments.) Which is fodder for another future column. (Blimey, I’ll be up all night at this rate.) And I will be accused of being over the top with some of my analogies, which will not be a first: I’ve been told 10 million times, Don’t exaggerate! So why am I still involved in a sport that I feel has changed so much? Because I’ve spent 47 years in this world, and I feel able to criticize and love it at the same time. It’s the world I live in but it is not, nor has it ever been, a world I own or that has to share my opinions.
Whatever, we evolved so far from the classic physique era to the “freakier the better” age that it was seen fit to introduce … Oh, the pumping irony, the Classic Physique division. Classic, absolutely classic!
(SIDEBAR)
CUE THE GURUS
Condition became so important in the late ‘90s that it spawned a new occupation: that of contest-prep gurus, who specialize in guiding, advising, (sometimes, let it be said, screwing up) competitors during the crucial weeks of contest dieting. Let is be said there are some great contest prep-advisors. But as many less qualified jumped on the bandwagon, it got real technical, real complicated, real fucked-up, real fast. Whereas the likes of Yates, Shawn Ray, Kevin Levrone et al. could hold condition for days, some found it difficult to maintain the required contest state look any longer than an amoeba’s attention span. A prime example was at the 2001 Olympia, when the prejudging started 45 minutes late, which caused one particular guru to just about shatter my eardrums with the scream, “Damn, my guy was ready at 12 noon— now [45 minutes later] he’s flat.” Bloody hell, the moon landing was less precise.
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