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| 'Murderball' crashes the Paralympics September 14, 2008 Say Luangkhamdeng is a typically polite and friendly Canadian but when he slips into his wheelchair for Paralympic rugby, his alter ego emerges. A quadraplegic, he strips to a tank top that reveals wild tattoos including a dragon up and down his impaired arms before going out to smash his battle-scarred wheelchair into his teammates' chairs during a practice session. "It's a lot of crazy aggression. You get to bag people out there for fun," said Luangkhamdeng, 31, who broke his neck 10 years ago in a car crash that killed his best friend. The feel-good atmosphere of the Beijing Paralympics got a jolt of testosterone Friday when wheelchair rugby, also known as "Murderball", tipped off. One of the fastest-growing, and certainly hardest-hitting, Paralympic events, wheelchair rugby's trash-talking culture was immortalised in the acclaimed, obscenity-filled 2005 documentary "Murderball", which was the sport's original name. The film focussed on the bitter USA-Canada rivalry, which looked set to take centre stage again in Beijing. The top-ranked Americans have dominated the sport but are hungry to avenge a semi-final Athens 2004 loss to Canada, which ended with silver. The bad blood persists, with some Canadian players expressing a personal dislike for some of the Americans. "It's hot. It's there," Canada captain David Willsie said of the rivalry. "You can just feel it around the (Paralympic) village when we see each other. The Americans are coming in as favourites, so knocking them off is gonna be fun." Mark Zupan, an intimidating presence in two Paralympics for Team USA and a central character in the film, responds. "I don't think that will happen," he said dismissively. The rivals were to face off in pool play on Sunday. The game, which debuted as a demonstration sport in Atlanta in 1996 and became a medal event at Sydney 2000, features four players on the court for each side, all of whom must be quadraplegics. Contrary to popular perception, not all quadraplegics are completely paralysed, but suffer from varying degrees of impairment in their upper limbs. The sport was invented in 1977 in Winnipeg, Canada, by quadraplegics who lacked the fine motor skills required for wheelchair basketball. Dubbed "Murderball" for its aggressive nature, its name was softened later as adherents sought to gain wider acceptance, but the full-contact ethos lives on. The object is to score by advancing a ball past the opponent's endline. Rules foster crisp passing and fast-paced runs aboard specially built wheelchairs resembling battering rams. But the game's hallmark is the crunching bumper-car collisions that regularly send players head over heels, though injuries are rare. "It's condoned violence," Willsie said. Adding to the Mad Max atmosphere are the tattooed, biker-like appearances of many players. The metal wheels of the chairs, covered with battle scars, resemble gladiators' shields. The game is entrenched in North America and gaining traction in traditional rugby nations like Australia and New Zealand. New Zealand took gold in Athens and its "Wheel Blacks" perform the pre-game haka war dance made famous by the All Blacks national rugby side. Recently, several Latin American, Asian and European countries have entered the fray, said Brad Mikkelsen, president of the International Wheelchair Rugby Federation, and the man who introduced the game in the United States. The game has spread thanks to its special appeal to those who play, he said. "Its the very aggressive nature of it. It's such a release from life in a wheelchair. To be able to strap in and just go all-out, it makes you feel like you're not disabled anymore," he said. The team focus is also an integral part of recovery for quadraplegics, said Luangkhamdeng. "Coming out of rehab, you don't know what to expect. It's a brand new life," he said. "But in team sports, your teammates can teach you things about this new life. That's invaluable." Willsie said 95 percent of players had previously suffered broken necks. "None of us did that in the library. We were usually doing something we shouldn't have in the first place. So this is a pretty easy transition for us," said Willsie, 40, who broke his neck playing hockey. "When I heard there was a sport where I could hit somebody again, I said 'Sign me up.'" AFP
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