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Sunday, August 20, 2000 By Chuck Finder, Post-Gazette Sports Writer
Hardly a year has passed since John Hunt of the Pittsburgh Fire Bureau first put on a tank, face piece, helmet, coat, pants, boots -- full bunker gear -- and waged the leg-numbing, chest-inflaming, rescue-simulating struggle they call the toughest two minutes in sports.
Already, after qualifying in a minute and 50 seconds in only his first competition, he is a top-eight contestant for the world championships at Las Vegas in November.
Already, after recording a 1:38 in only his second competition, he is somewhere between the circuit's rookie of the year and a quick-rising star.
Already, he is on a T-shirt.
"He is the man," said John Kraft, the art director for "On Target," the company that promotes and markets this Firefighter Combat Challenge that you may have seen on ESPN. "We talk about him everywhere we go. He's got a lot of guys who check him out on the Web. I tell people, 'Watch out for this guy.' "
Funny how a guy goes from an everyday pile driver to the Vince Carter of firefighters, at least in the realm where an Overland Park, Kan., fellow named Bobby Russell is their Michael Jordan.
This is who he is: A fledgling firefighter from Bon Aire, 32, the son of former studio wrestler Hurricane Hunt, a young man who sprouted from an unathletic background at South Hills Catholic to four years in the Army to eight years as a pile driver to one year working in the Steuben Street firehouse in Elliot and working out zealously.
This is what he does: A firefighter combat course that began as a training-academy regimen and sprouted, about four years ago, into an athletic event in 27 North American cities and on ESPN.
Let's run through the course (no need to train for this, it's just a little light reading).
First, put on the full bunker gear, which is the equivalent of an NHL goaltender's regalia -- 40 pounds under which to sweat excessively. Except a goaltender doesn't lug on his back a tank pumping air into a fully enclosing mask. Nor does he have to do the climbing and toting and hammering and dragging that are about to follow.
1. High-rise pack carry: The timed competition begins at the bottom of a five-story tower that simulates a burning building. Grab a 45-pound, 100-foot, high-rise hose, toss it on your shoulder and charge up those five stories of stairs.
2. Hose hoist: At the top, throw that high-rise hose into a box and pull a 45-pound doughnut roll of hose up the side of the tower. If it slips even once, you are disqualified -- you can continue, but penalty time is added at the end. Should you make it that far.
3. Forcible entry: Rush down those stairs without missing one -- another instance of penalty time -- and, at the bottom, hop on a 7-foot-long hunk of steel that resembles a garage bay. Place one foot on each side of the sled, grab the 9-pound shot mallet and whack the 160-pound metal weight on the sled floor. Knock it backward five feet to the finish line, a move that takes Hunt about seven whacks.
4. Slalom: In the easiest part of the course, bolt around a 100-foot S-course of six little, plastic fire hydrants. Catch your breath -- it's your last chance.
5. Hose advance: Pick up a hose ready for firefighting use, charged with 100 pounds of water pressure, and carry it 75 feet. About halfway there, when the hose uncoils, the water pressure doubles and snaps you backward. So keep surging forward. Then, at the end, turn on the hose and spray a small target.
6. Victim rescue: Say hello to "Rescue Randy." The 175-pound mannequin is lying on the ground, ready for saving. Throw your arms around the chest and drag both "Rescue Randy" and yourself backwards, 100 feet, to the finish line. Don't lift his dummy feet off the ground -- as if you would have as much strength and energy by this time, anyway.
"You're done," Hunt said. "Then you collapse."
Most folks don't finish. Others complete the arduous course in between two and three minutes.
Then there are about 700 or so who qualify for the world championships, recording a sub-2:00 time.
Hunt's 1:38.75 -- attained at a Fremont, Ohio, challenge that had the Web site Firefighter-Challenge.com gloating "watch out, Bobby Russell, here comes John Hunt" -- ranked him in the top five by June, though his time now stands around No. 8 after the season's first 15 events. He looked over last fall's world championship finishers, and that same time would've placed him 23rd. Three years ago, it would've placed him in the top 10.
So the firefighters combat realm grows increasingly more competitive. And more popular.
"No matter how much you prepare, you aren't prepared for this," said Jeff Ballock, a Wilkinsburg firefighter who was a first-time participant in June, in a DuBois competition with Hunt and a couple of Pittsburgh teammates. "It's the hardest time in your life."
"For John to do a 1:38 in his second time ...," began Earl Shepherd, a Pittsburgh firefighter and world-class athlete.
Shepherd, a former City policeman who works in the Hazelwood firehouse, competes on the U.S. bobsled team. He takes time from work to compete and practice in Lake Placid, N.Y., and around the snowy globe. He is a buff fellow who trains and lifts and perspires and toils on an elite level. And, after joining with Hunt and Lt. Jeff Morris from the Homewood firehouse to win the DuBois relay competition in 1:35.08 while Shepherd whacked the Keiser sled (he needed but three blows) and carried "Rescue Randy," Shepherd said of his teammate the quick-rising star: "To do the whole thing is probably one of the hardest sporting events you could do. The endurance and everything. I couldn't train for the whole thing, bobsledding being a sprinter's sport and this being endurance.
"I figure I'll let him do it for another year, have a little fun for a while, and let him get the records I'll have to break in a couple of years."
Shepherd was teasing. But seriously, he added, "Those guys who'll be in Vegas, they're good, but they've been doing it a long time. This is just John's third time."
At the DuBois competition, Hunt stumbled on mist-covered steps and misfired on the Keiser sled and finished in 1:44.99 -- almost 10 seconds slower than the Pittsburgh group effort in the relay, and six-plus seconds slower than his Fremont finish.
"Bad day," Hunt complained.
"But I'll never see 1:38 again," he added. "I'm going below that now."
Still, the time was good enough for first place two months ago in DuBois. Hunt, known for his nice-guy demeanor, nearly missed the post-competition awards ceremony because he was helping Shepherd and Morris to break down and pack the DuBois challenge course. The trophies keep coming.
"He's a young guy," said Toronto-area firefighter John Butler, an over-40 top competitor who finished second to Hunt there. "I've heard of him [through the Web site], but he hasn't heard of me. But he's got a lot of potential. Experience is the only way you're going to get better, doing the competition all the time."
"Experience is awesome," said Kraft, the art director ready to place Hunt on a T-shirt to sell at these challenges ("he's earned bragging rights"). "It took Bobby Russell a while to get down to those kinds of times. John made some mistakes that cost him a little time. More prizes for him, more experience, and he's still going to worlds."
This up-the-tower journey all began last August at the Highland Park training academy. There, in addition to three written tests, recruits must pass a physical-fitness test. Instead of a tower, they have a fully enclosed brick structure. Instead of "Rescue Randy," there's a dummy made of rope. Still and all, the best Pittbsurgh time heretofore was 3:08.
Shepherd bulled his way through and broke that record.
Then came Hunt in 2:19. "I was coming down the stairs, 'what am I doing?' "
"It's sort of like the professional-athlete level where they're at," said Chief Bruce Linner, who was among those officers overseeing the academy then, among the folks who talked Hunt into training for this combat-challenge business.
Hunt is the son of former professional wrestler Hurricane Hunt, who retired from the ring before John was born. So all he knows about the previous avocation of his father, a retired steel worker, are from stories and old photographs. The son jumps from the turnbuckle and into a different canvas.
Hunt went to Washington, D.C., last fall for his first competition, and Kraft introduced the tentative newcomer to the immortal Russell, who holds the world record at 1:25.79. The teacher walked the new pupil through the course, gave him tips, advised him how to train -- a couple of those six stations at a time, never attempt the whole course at once in practice, lift weights and run and ride a stationary bike. Hunt finished in 1:50, qualifying in his first attempt for the world championships.
The rookie kept at it.
He keeps going. To practice at the Highland Park training academy, to challenges in Columbus and maybe New Jersey in the next few weeks, to work in the Elliot 'house, either fighting fires or riding the stationary bike.
He likes firefighting's job security compared to pile-driving, the stability compared to the travel. But he wasn't a world-class pile-driving competitor back then, either.
"It's even a little fun," Hunt said of all combat-challenge business. "I enjoy it.
"The conditioning helps a lot on the job. I was at a five-alarm in Knoxville recently. Up and down the steps, pulling hose ... Now I wish I'd taken the bureau test 10 years ago."
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