Written by Peter McGough
14 October 2017

14dennisnewman

Dennis Newman

Most Unrealized Potential Ever?

 

Whenever the subject of who was the bodybuilder with the most unrealized potential arises, the names of Matt Mendenhall, Edgar Fletcher, Rory Leidelmeyer, Gunnar Rosbo, Jim Haislop and Manny Perry are always part of the discussion. But for me one bodybuilder tops that list because he really, unlike the previously mentioned, never got a shot at proceeding with his career. Not for him screwing up at contest time, or not being hungry enough, his career just came to a shuddering halt against his wishes.

 If a computer was asked to produce a sketch for the perfect male bodybuilder the printout would probably contain the following: early 20’s; an inch or so shy of six feet; huge and aesthetic with massive arms (bodybuilding’s showcase muscle); competitive weight, 250 pounds; great symmetry and proportions; photogenic -- physiquewise and facially; friendly and good at interviews; even while in amateurs eyed as a possible future Mr. Olympia; wouldn’t hurt if he was a former Southern California surfing champ.

 So, bingo, when Dennis Newman won the USA heavyweight and overall titles on June 25, 1994, he became the hottest new pro in years and the possessor of the perfect portfolio for superstardom.

 ONE BRIEF SHINING MOMENT

 On that celebratory New Orleans night, the 24 year old had the bodybuilding world at his feet. Ten weeks later, the brilliant career once seen for him was over before it had begun, and Dennis was fighting for his life against leukemia.

 In the weeks following his USA victory, Dennis was afflicted by the following barrage of fluctuating ailments; extreme fatigue, dizziness, high temperature, hot sweats, bloodshot eyes and difficulty with his hearing. He had at first put these symptoms down to the consequences of contest prep, but they had lingered too long. Finally, on the evening of September 4, accompanied by his wife, Dennis went to the emergency room at the Mission Hospital in Mission Viejo, California.

 He recalls that fateful day, “They gave me a blood test and said they were checking for mononucleosis (a severe respiratory condition) Then they did some other tests, and after several hours the doctor took us aside and told us, ‘Dennis you don’t have mononucleosis you have leukemia.’ I kind of freaked out and went into a state of shock. I looked at my wife and tried to ask, Why me?”

 Dennis was immediately admitted into the hospital, and the next day his chemotherapy began. He underwent two-hour sessions twice a day while also receiving a daily blood transfusion in an effort to stabilize his blood-cell count.

 After the shock that gripped him the previous evening, Dennis says, “By the time the doctors and nurses were shoving those first IV’s into me I had adopted an attitude of taking this thing on.”

 Explaining how he came to terms with this life-threatening dilemma Dennis says, “There was no alternative but to think positively. I wasn’t going to sit down and not fight. In fact there was a guy admitted to the hospital the same day as me with leukemia. He debated whether to go through with the chemo, and with all that negativity going through his head he reacted much worse than I did to the treatment. He was throwing up, had diarrhea. I didn’t have any of that, I think because I looked at the chemo as a positive thing.”

 While he was in the hospital, “My doctor showed me literature on (undersized) kids who had received growth hormone and then later had gotten leukemia. He said there was a correlation between GH and leukemia. He also told me that I had the leukemia gene in my system and that at some point in my life (regardless of being a bodybuilder) the probability was that I would get it. Growth hormone possibly accelerated it.”

 INTO A NEW LIFE

 On September 26, 1994, Dennis left the hospital with the leukemia under control. A bone marrow transplant (which reduces the chance of the leukemia reappearing) was planned for October, prior to which he would have to undergo further sessions of chemotherapy.

 By mid-October, the ravages of his illness and required treatment had caused him to shed 45 pounds from the 250 or so he carried in the summer. Given the delay in reporting contests then prevalent in the print industry (this was before the Internet became the staple of every bodybuilder) the much lighter Dennis saw bodybuilding magazines on the newsstands glutted with his USA winning image. The irony of the situation was not lost on him. He told me in September of that year: “I look at my photos in the magazines and okay it was nice to be big and feel great. But I also consider what I had to do to get that way. Competitive bodybuilding is over for me.”

 “I now focus on the life I’ll lead outside of bodybuilding. I think of the things I’ll be able to do, like camping and skiing, that my bodybuilding career didn’t permit to do. Those thoughts help me keep a positive mind-set.”

 However, he was still man enough to disclose, “Sometimes that approach breaks and I’ll just bust our crying ‘cause I feel I don’t know what the hell is going on.” He quickly added: “But I’m not sitting at home wallowing in self-pity. I have the love of my family supporting me day and night. With leukemia, you can either lay down and die or take it on. I’m taking it on.”

 At the time it was understood he would never compete again and I wrote: “We will never know how good a bodybuilder Dennis Newman could have become. He will never compete in a Mr. Olympia contest and will never be seen again in competitive guise on the bodybuilding stage. That steamy June night in New Orleans will be consigned to history as the highlight and finale, the one brief shining moment of his career and not the start of it.

 “At 24, fate had governed that he now faces a more dangerous foe than any to be found under a posing spotlight. But in the manner he is facing that foe head on, he has transitioned from being a role model for his sport to a role model for anyone facing career-changing adversity.”

 IT AIN’T OVER ….

 After undergoing successful stem cell therapy Newman announced he wanted to compete again in 1996. The IFBB were reluctant to allow him back in because of understandable health concerns. Thus there followed a zany gate crashing of the 1996 Mr. Olympia posedown when he suddenly stripped into posing trunks and jumped in among the six finalists, before scrambling off to retrieve his threads. In 1998 his IFBB pro card was renewed and he returned to competition but was far from the Newman who seemed a looming Olympia threat in 1994. He finished 7th at the ’98 Ironman; 18th at the ’99 Toronto Pro; 13th at the 2000 Ironman and bowed out at age 31 when not finishing in the top 17 at the 2001 Night of Champions.

 Today he lives healthily in the swanky environs of Laguna Beach, 45 miles south of Los Angeles, where he runs a high-end personal training business. Now 44 he says, “I’m happy to have overcome my illness and I never sweat the little things. I love working with people to change their physiques and lives. I still love bodybuilding and sometimes at a show feel I should be back up there …… but I guess it was just not meant to be.”

 

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