Life Remains A Battle For Blatnick

The next time you hear a certain baseball manager complain his reputation brings him trouble, think of Jeff Blatnick.

Blatnick could probably find a brawl every day if he wanted one. He won a gold medal in Greco-Roman wrestling at the 1984 Olympics, making him just the kind of heavyweight that mischief-makers love to test. Every once in a while someone approaches him trying to prove something.

Blatnick, 31, proves you can just say no. You don’t have to respond just because a young gunfighter happens to challenge you. A combination of modesty and diplomacy lets him walk away.

“People will say, ‘How about a little arm wrestling?”’ Blatnick told UPI in a phone interview. “I tell them, ‘I’m not an arm wrestler. How about some real wrestling?’ I try to stay away from that. I tell them, ‘You’ll probably beat me.’ ”

Beautiful. “You’ll probably beat me.” That kind of answer leaves everyone happy, and lets the evening continue. It’s just as well, too. Blatnick can’t afford to waste time rolling around on floors. He’s too busy.

A typical day may find him on a plane somewhere, possibly to visit children in a cancer hospital. A night speaking engagement may follow. He handled the NCAA wrestling tournament for ESPN. He also plans to help out NBC’s coverage of the 1988 Games from Seoul.

In fact, a fellow Olympian of his, swimmer Steve Lundquist, jokes about Blatnick’s speaking skill.

“You name it,” Lundquist says. “Whatever the occasion, he can get up and blab for 10 minutes.”

“I’m not going to retort,” Blatnick kidded back. “My kind of retorting doesn’t involve words.”

You can see that, in a certain sense, Blatnick has never stopped battling. He struggles to get the most from every day. He has learned the value of time, a natural reaction for someone who has seen the fragility of life.

Blatnick arrived at the Los Angeles Olympics as a recovering cancer victim. He had also lost his brother David in a motorcycle accident. He overcame all this, plus a loss in his second match, to win the gold medal. Then, as people who witnessed it may recall, he cried out his joy on national television.

“You’re overcome with emotion,” Lundquist explained it. “Elation. Total elation.”

The cancer returned after the Games, forcing Blatnick to another battle. He knows about it all, from the physical toll to the mental one. He says the biggest problem is the stigma.

“My health is fine,” he said. “People always think you’re hiding something. That bothers me. Stigma controls people’s reaction. The stigma is fear.”

Lundquist says Blatnick uses the experience to help others--those afflicted and those not--become more comfortable with cancer.

“Everybody says, ‘Oh, you have cancer?’ and they treat him differently,” Lundquist said. “And he says, ‘What’s a person with cancer supposed to act like? What’s a person with cancer supposed to look like? Tell me.’ He said, ‘They’re just like you and me.’ And that kind of hit home to me.”

Blatnick listened as a reporter repeated Lundquist’s words. “Those are my two favorite questions,” he agreed.

“It starts with getting over the fear, this stigma,” he said. “The immediate. Am I going to die? Why did this happen to me? None of these questions are going to have an answer. You ask the why if you’re afraid to deal with the what. The what is cancer. You got it, what are you going to do with it?”

“When you get over fear, then you get into job, relationships, future,” he said. “Some people tread water too long. If you isolate yourself, going getting treatment, that’s not much of a life.”

Blatnick retired from competition in April, after a comeback bid left him below the level he wanted. He finished third in the 1987 U.S. Open, and exited after one match in this year’s nationals. He sits on the Board of Directors of U.S.A. Wrestling. He says he plays golf, tennis, some fitness sports. He does some coaching and some fundraising. He’s also planning marriage.

“It took courage to ask,” he said. “I don’t want to start something I can’t finish.”

He says he also wonders whether he can have children, because chemotherapy can affect the reproductive system.

“Right now, that’s probably my biggest fear,” he said. “That will be worth any medal.”