tribute by paul martin
My cherished friendship with Joel David Sampson, in a nutshell and not necessarily complete or in any particular order.
He was chasing me around a suburb of Toledo in a pair of speedos. That’s how we bonded. At the 1997 USA Triathlon Physically Challenged World Championships. He never did catch me, I won the race but he won my heart by calling me “Champ” and that he was proud to have lost to me. It was that big humble smile that convinced me we’d be long time friends.
His legend actually crossed my path before we met. A bunch of amputees known as the US Disabled Ski Team were on their way back from the 1998 Paralympic Games in Japan with a stopover in Waikiki. Joel was working at Duke’s where, so the story goes, he got all giddy seeing a bunch of his kind. He proceeded to talk up his triathlon game and that’s when word got back to me about the jovial BK multisporter from the Big Island. I couldn’t wait to meet him!
Joel is the only male amputee I’ve ever slept with. Not in that way. But when Joel wakes your drunk ass up in the middle of the night and says “I have an idea, it’ll be fun!”, of course, you’re gonna right jump in.
When my life reached it’s halfway point, I thought a three-day rafting trip great way to celebrate. He may have been my first phone call. And he jumped right in. There were eight of us, he only knew me, and not surprisingly, everyone loved him and he made the occasion that much more special.
There are certain highlights in one’s life one can truly be proud of. Prosthetitties is one of them.
The other one might, in the Year of Our Lord 2000, his besting of my 1999 time at XTERRA World Championships on the old Maui course. Well done brother! (Of course I came back the next year and got it back. Ha ha fucker!)
One short lived tradition I cherished was couch surfing at Joel’s pad each time I came to Hawaii. (He even brought me a friend once!) Not only for Ironman or other races, but also for my honeymoon. Sharon, with all the patience and understanding I could hope for, was on this low budget journey with me. She didn’t mind an overnighter on Joel’s futon before we headed over to the North Shore. So glad we stayed. When I told him sometime later that we were expecting a child and that futon had its fingerprints all over it, he was so proud to announce we weren’t the first to make a baby on that thing!
I’ll take a moment to honor his old canine friend Max. Such a good dog. Didn’t take long for me to figure out how he got his name. Short for Maximum, as in, the maximum amount of dog shit compiled in one yard!
There’s a little bit of evil in Joel, did you know that? I’m referring to the good kind. Like when we met up in San Diego for the Challenged Athlete’s Foundation’s (CAF) annual SD Triathlon Challenge, a half Ironman distance event. We were part of a team that year. He swam, I biked and pro triathlete Kenny Something ran. To be sure we made the most of the weekend, we hooked up with his old high school buddy the night before the event. His friend happened to bring little blue pills. I demurred. Then Evil Joel put out two hands and put on the Big Evil Joel smile: “In this hand is fun. In this hand is NO fun. What’s it gonna be?” Needless to say, we had fun, I slept maybe an hour and on the bike ride the next day, I found the green patch of grass so inviting I made up for some missed sleep. We didn’t win.
Oh yeah, Ironman Revisited. Same story. Joel and I, along with our good friend and winger Jon Beeson, were invited to be one of several teams and a couple dozen individuals to participate in the inaugural event: retracing the steps of the original Ironman course on Oahu to raise money for CAF. I have little recollection of the evening, but we imbibed once again which resulted in another long time in the saddle…. And, of course, Joel managed to run a solo marathon!
On a warm, ending note. I honestly don’t think most people are like me in this way: I learn something, or experience some thing, or overhear something that someone does or comments to me about or actually teaches me—and then every time that thing happens in my life, I think of that person. For examples: my friend Jay commented just one time how stupid the people are who bend their neck to get a good view of the side view mirror instead of just adjusting the fucking mirror; or this guy, Ray “Severe” Pervier, at my dad’s bar who “taught” me, “Be sure to wash your face before washing your ass”; or something more common like rocking to Van Halen’s “Ain’t Talkin’ Bout Love” and remembering how it was blasting when I was part the red-headed train, from behind, that one night in the fraternity house.
To this day, nearly every day I hop to the toilet, morning or night, I sit down to pee, and think of Joel.
Thanks for being you brother! Just imagine the memories if we didn’t live thousands of miles apart!