This one’s for the couch potatoes

Two team members lifted the 223-pound Blutowski up to the rings. He dangled nervously for a few moments, his 43-inch gut hanging over his gym shorts. He tried to focus and — just as he had been taught — envisioned himself winning the gold.

He imagined the cheers of the crowd; he could feel the sting of the high-fives from his team-mates. He envisioned standing proudly at the center podium as the American flag was raised, a tear on his cheek, a Caesar Romero hat upon his head. He wondered if he’d get to keep it.

This, indeed, was his moment.

With the noble poise of the Olympians of old, Richard Blutowski raised his legs upward, his knees slightly bent, his hairy toes flailing as he struggled to lift his legs past his waistline. With muscles rippling under a thick layer of fat, Blutowski urged them on. "Just a little bit further," he said through gritted teeth. "Just … a … little …—"

Suddenly, dramatically, his legs dropped. The audience let out an awe-inspired gasp before erupting into applause.

So far, so good, he thought. Refocusing his energy, Richard Blutowski, 40, TV repairman and model airplane enthusiast, did the unthinkable. Releasing one of the rings, he allowed his full body weight to be suspended by only one hand.

The entire arena was at its feet. Such a routine had only been attempted once before, at the 1980 Olympics in Moscow, resulting in Romanian gymnast Igor Kromenov’s body dislodging from its arm at the shoulder like a human Mr. Potato Head. The arm was later stolen and then recovered from a nesting doll-maker, who said he needed an extra hand around the shop.

Blutowski didn’t wait for his teammates to help him down. Completely exhausted by the 37 seconds of effort, he dropped like a bag of wet laundry. He ran to his coach, Mildred Kendal (who, when not training Olympians, ran the local chapter of the Red Hat Ladies) and gave her a well-deserved hug. Kendal wiped herself off, and the two smiled for a herd of international photographers.

Blutowski graduated Cum Laude from the AAA School of Television Repair in 1985. Married to Maude, the couple has three children. It hasn’t always been easy for the Blutowskis. In 1996 Maude gave birth to a boy, who, though they named "Phil," would only answer to "Raymond," leading the couple to financial ruin. The Olympics would offer Blutowski the hope his family so strongly needed.

Next for Blutowsky was the pommel horse, where he would follow a strong performance by Irish bartender, Morgan McKinley, 44, who managed not only to climb atop the pommel horse, but to turn completely around on it in under three minutes.

The horse was not Blutowski’s strong suit, due to the fact that pommel horse practice was held at the exact same time as reruns of the A-Team, which he had once taken a blood oath never to miss. But Dame Fortune would smile on the American once again, thanks to a hopelessly lost bumble-bee who happened to suddenly find itself in a large hive of humans after slipping through the arena doors without a ticket.

Richard Blutowski feared little in life; he was afraid only of his wife, her cat, "Scrapey," boiled squash, and bees. So after struggling to board the pommel horse, when he saw a large, puzzled looking bumble bee around the vicinity of his nose, Blutowski lit into what appeared to be the lead solo from the Nutcracker Ballet, all without ever leaving the pommel horse.

McKinley’s mouth fell open. Kendal’s mouth fell open. The bee’s mouth fell open. It was another awe-inspiring performance by Blutowski, who, for his efforts was granted the Olympically impossible score of "11."

As the springboard, parallel bars and floor competition were canceled due to lack of ability, this was the final competition for the gymnists. Blutowski continued to proudly bask in the glow of victory as he took the steps to the center podium. As the American flag was raised, the national anthem rang out, and the 40-year-old TV repairman, with a tear in his eye, sang loud and with emotion, "This land is your land, this land is my …"