Kicking Some Bot

In my hands are the controls to a 210-pound killer robot named BioHazard.

The crowd yells--some for me, but mostly for my robotic minion. A huge video screen follows every move of my robot’s grudge match against opponent Ginsu. Rotary saws pop up from the arena floor. Huge hammers smash down with so much force that they shake the room.

And the crowd yells louder.

I am not worthy.

I am a guest controller in an exhibition round of “BattleBots,” the highly successful cable television show that pits radio-controlled robots against each other in three-minute duels. Object: Inflict as much damage as possible by slamming opponents against metal spikes, hacking them with buzz saws or flipping them over like motorized turtles. It’s R2-D2 as gladiator.

Normally, this is not my scene. But there is something about “BattleBots”--with its garage tinkerer ethic and bumper car sensibility--that is irresistibly American and even a bit nostalgic. The garage inventor is an icon epitomized by Henry Ford creating an automobile or Orville and Wilbur Wright building an airplane. “BattleBots” provides a brutally Darwinistic arena in which inventors can prove the worth of their creations.

On hand at this special exhibition are eight robots that have appeared on the Comedy Central show, all looking more menacing than they do on TV. They are not walking robots like in 1950s science fiction films but low-to-the-ground, compact machines capable of astonishing speed, agility and malice.

Overkill sports a mean-looking saw blade. Tazbot looks like a giant metallic insect with a pick ax. Diesector has two axes. Ginsu uses rotary blades for wheels. Toe Crusher does damage with a hammer-like spike. Minion carries a firefighter’s emergency saw. The flying saucer-like Ziggo has spinning steel blades. The impervious-looking BioHazard inflicts robot pain with its sheer power and lifting arm.

Unlike the robots, the creators of the machines on hand for the event are soft-spoken, thoughtful and even shy. “I get all my aggression out during the matches,” says Christian Carlberg, father of Minion, Overkill and Toe Crusher.

Not surprisingly, Carlberg, 30, of Santa Monica works in a field that requires hands-on electronic and engineering capability. He’s a Walt Disney Co. imagineer who designs attractions for a new theme park in Tokyo.

All the BattleBot makers design and build their creations piece by piece in garages, rented spaces or, when a sympathetic supervisor looks the other way, at work. None are in it for the money. The machines cost $1,000 to $70,000 to build, according to “BattleBots” production coordinator Erica Smentowski. The top prize in last November’s competition in Las Vegas: $6,000.

Most robot makers showed an aptitude for building machines at an early age. On the BattleBots Web site (https://www.battlebots.com), Donald Hutson--creator of Diesector and Tazbot--lists his influences as: “My mom and Legos.” His day job in San Diego is customizing and repairing home medical equipment.

Each killer bot is a unique creation. On Carlberg’s Web site, https://www.coolrobots.com, he goes into detail on how each of his machines was developed, giving beginners a template from which to work. His highly shielded Minion has lost only one regulation match. “It climbed up a wall and got stuck there,” he says during the competition, shaking his head. “Embarrassing but true.”

And all part of the game. For the little boys who grew up on Lego and building things in shop, destruction is the soul mate of creation. And the crowds love it.

As tuxedoed ring announcer Mark Beiro makes preliminary comments in his hyped-up style, drawing out names like “Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiesector!” some of the bot creators gather around to offer hints. “It’s not like being in a car when you are driving,” says Carlberg. “It’s out there and you are here. You can’t feel what it’s doing.”

Carlo Bertocchini, the creator of BioHazard, goes over the remote control unit I’ll be using. It’s fairly straightforward--a mini-joystick on the right side controlled by the thumb sets the direction and speed of the bot.

“When the robot is speeding away from you, you move the stick as you see it. But when it is coming toward you, you have to think in reverse--pushing the stick to the right is going to turn it left,” he says. “I try to imagine myself actually on the bot.”

He also advises keeping the lifting arm of BioHazard up at all times unless it’s maneuvered under an opponent. Otherwise it could snag on something. Isn’t he afraid that someone who is not an expert in driving a bot will inadvertently do it damage?

“No offense,” he says with a friendly smile, “but an amateur driver is not going to get up the speed to really get in trouble.”

In the first match of the evening, Carlberg’s Toe Crusher is pitted against Jonathan Ridder’s Ziggo. Although this is an exhibition, the two go at each other fiercely, with Ziggo almost flying across the floor and using its whirling blades to inflict early harm. Carlberg, who remains so calm he could almost be described as serene, strikes back with Toe Crusher’s metal scoop and hammering spike.

When it’s all over, no winner is declared but both vehicles have suffered, especially Toe Crusher. The scoop has been entirely sawed off, the tires are slashed and there are dents all over.

Carlberg is unfazed, saying he allowed some of the damage to happen to make a better show of the match. Carlberg says fixing Toe Crusher with the parts they would normally have on hand would take only about half an hour. “That’s not Toe Crusher,” he says, pointing to the damaged machine.

Then he points to his head.

“Toe Crusher is up here.”

A few matches later, the air thick with smoke caused by metal scraping against metal, it’s my turn. I’ll be facing Ginsu, driven by Howard Shiffman, president of Tiger Electronics, which organized the special match to promote its upcoming line of BattleBot toys.

Bertocchini stands at my side, quietly issuing last-minute hints. I tentatively press the right stick and BioHazard--made of titanium, magnesium, aluminum and steel--instantly responds, spinning left then right as lithely as a ballet dancer.

I speed BioHazard forward, hungry for a bot clash. But controlling the bot, especially under the influence of a huge adrenaline rush, is not so easy and I miss Ginsu by a couple of feet. Ginsu rides up over me and digs in its blades, inflicting some dents.

I’m in trouble if I don’t get control--and fast, since this is only a one-minute bout. But then Ginsu gets overanxious, hanging up on the spikes as it rears back for an attack. After a couple of tries, I finally hit it head on, BioHazard’s sharpened edges under Ginsu.

No mercy. Under Bertocchini’s tutelage, I use the lift arm to hoist Ginsu into the air to the cheers of the audience. He drops down and again rides over me, but suddenly the match--which seems to have taken 10 minutes instead of one--is over.

Bertocchini congratulates me, and his wife, Carol, runs over to declare, “You got him, you got him!” Other bot creators kindly agree that I would have won the match if a judge had rendered a decision. No matter, my adrenaline is pumping as the crowd clears.

BioHazard is still in the arena. Bertocchini lets some kids from the audience try driving it a bit. Noah Posnick, 15, is among them with his proud dad looking on.

Noah is concentrating with almost painful intensity as he puts BioHazard through its moves. “That was an amazing experience,” he says with reverence, turning back to join his father.

My 15-year-old within knows exactly what he means. Had there been an awards ceremony, I would have wished my father could have been there to see me.

*

Times staff writer David Colker covers personal technology.

In this corner...

Battle Bot name: BioHazard

Chief weapon: Lifting arm

At the controls: Tech Times writer David Colker (in the photo below)

Main builder: Carlo Bertolucchini (in photo above)

Where it was built: Belmont

In this corner...

Battle Bot name: Ginsu

Chief weapon: 4 saw blades (modified from six-blade model shown in pre-fight photo, top right)

At the controls: Tiger Electronics PResident Howard Shiffman

Main builder: Trey Roski (in the photo above)

Where it was built: Petaluma