Rulon Gardner is the luckiest unlucky star-crossed star in the universe.
Gardner seems watched upon by Tyche and Fortuna, the Greek and Roman goddesses of good luck and bad luck.
After all, Gardner did become the greatest international Greco-Roman wrestler … and is a train wreck waiting to happen.
Every other kind of wreck already has happened.
He has survived a car wreck, a motorcycle-truck collision and a snowmobiling accident.
And over the weekend Rulon Gardner survived a plane crash.
Keep him away from boats, carriages and electrical outlets.
When I last saw Rulon a few months ago in New York, I asked how he was doing. “Great!” he exclaimed. “Except I have torn up both my hands.”
Wreck?
“Pickup basketball game.”
As a kid, Rulon took an arrow to school, but while he was showing-and-telling, he stabbed himself in the stomach, then walked 10 miles into town for treatment.
He obviously is accident prone and bulletproof.
“I have been a lot luckier than unluckier,” he told me.
On Monday Gardner was on a plane for Boston for a wrestling clinic.
Man does get back on horses.
One of eight children, raised on a Wyoming milk farm by hard-working, rock-solid Mormon parents, Rulon played football briefly and wrestled at the University of Nebraska, lived and trained in Colorado Springs and pulled off the most implausible, unbelievable, inconceivable individual upset in modern Olympics history at the 2000 Summer Games in Sydney. He beat nine-time world champion, three-time Olympic gold medalist Alexander Karelin in the heavyweight final 1-0, then performed another astonishing feat.
Gardner, pushing 300 pounds, did a back flip.
As an observer that afternoon, I don’t know which stunt amazed me more.
Karelin, who had not given up a point in 10 years, had beaten Gardner once before, 5-0, and Gardner hasn’t fully recovered from the back injury he suffered in the match.
I haven’t gotten that gold medal victory or Gardner out of my mind. He is most huggable, lovable, friendly guy I’ve ever met in sports.
His nine minutes in the final did not result in only 10 minutes of fame. For more than six years Gardner has been a symbol of the American Olympic dream. Annually he gives more than 200 motivational speeches and talks to thousands of children. He has appeared on major TV shows, in commercials and movies and at the White House twice. Gardner is involved with several businesses and has gone from being the fat boy who was made fun of and had almost nothing to the big guy who is idolized and has almost everything. Everything but a family of his own.
Gardner’s worst wreckage has been his marriages. He has divorced three times.
Because he has no children, maybe that’s why Gardner remains one himself. His quest for fun, excitement and attention never stops.
Gardner returned to the Olympics, short one toe, in 2004. When he lost in the semifinals, Rulon removed his gold shoes and left them on the mat.
He leaves all that he does on the mat.
Before qualifying at 29 for his first Olympics, Gardner’s car slammed into the side of another automobile. He got out and walked away. Between Olympics, in 2002, he went on a cross country adventure with friends and rode his snowmobile into a hidden lake. The others went for help; Gardner spent 17 hours huddled in snow and sub-zero temperatures. His feet were frostbitten when he was found, and he lost a toe.
In 2004 he bought a Harley motorcycle and ran into a car that pulled out in front of him, then two days later dislocated his wrist in a pickup basketball game, but still competed in the Summer Games.
After his Olympic career ended, he wanted to earn a pilot’s license, buy a plane and fly to his talks.
On Saturday Gardner, his pilot and the pilot’s brother were flying in the Good Hope (yes) Bay area on the Utah-Arizona border when the small aircraft dipped suddenly and dived into the water. The three swam more than an hour in 44-degree water before reaching shore and spending the night wet and freezing. A fisherman rescued them Sunday.
This time, fortunately, Gardner was not injured.
When I last saw Rulon he gave me his cellphone number and said: “When you’re out my way sometime, call me, and I’ll take you to lunch.”
Oddly enough, I would go in or on any vehicle with Rulon Gardner.
He is a survivor. And a fortunate son.
Staff writer Woody Paige can be reached at 303-954-1095 or wpaige@denverpost.com.
