A Good Cause Benefits From Locked Paws : Games: More than 100 arm-wrestlers clasp hands in contest, with proceeds going to charity. Many wear their brawn like a uniform, but one man is guided by inner strength.

Nobody had to twist Albert Gilmour’s arm to get him out of Bible study class and into a rowdy Arcadia tavern.

Gilmour, 50, was anxious to try his hand at charity arm-wrestling.

“I’ve never done this before,” said the graying, soft-spoken management consultant from San Gabriel. “I’m not an arm-wrestler.”

That is putting it charitably.

Most of the 104 other contestants who crowded into the Sportsrock bar for a three-day championship elimination tournament last week came with biceps bulging. Egos, too.

Some warmed up by banging their heads against the wall or having friends slap them across the face. Others snorted fiercely at their opponents or flexed tattooed forearms that glistened with sweat.

One man displayed a ring through a tooth that flashed when he snarled. Several wore jackets weighted down with patches listing past arm-wrestling titles they have won.

Gilmour wore street clothes. And a grin.

“When I heard this was to benefit the Multiple Sclerosis Society, I thought, gosh, what a way to give to charity,” he said. “My wife’s an ongoing cancer patient at City of Hope. I know how important it is.”

Actually, the contest was being staged to benefit a brand of imported whiskey. In exchange for the publicity it hoped to receive, the importer promised to give the society’s Los Angeles chapter the $5 entry fee paid by each contestant, plus a matching amount.

Gilmour’s 214 pounds put him in the contest’s heavyweight division. He was told he would wrestle until he either was defeated twice or declared the winner of his weight class.

Winners would receive $200 apiece, a trophy and an invitation to travel at their own expense to a national championship planned for July in Florida, organizers said.

The first round got off to a quick start. Matches were over in a matter of seconds; some losers’ arms were slammed onto the special competition table even faster than that.

Then Gilmour’s name was called.

Across the room, Neil Barton, 28, of Arcadia looked up with a start.

They have made a mistake, decided Barton, a grocery clerk who had stopped at the bar after work to watch a basketball game on TV. They cannot be calling Al Gilmour.

“I figured he must be here to watch one of his kids arm-wrestle,” Barton said. “I grew up down the street from him--played baseball with his son. I’ve known Al since I was 8. I didn’t think he was here to compete .”

Gilmour’s opponent was 275-pound David Farrell, 32, a deputy sheriff from Ontario. Farrell looked confident. “He’s an older guy. So I figured no problem,” Farrell said.

Their match began slowly. When their hands slipped apart, the judges tied them together with a leather strap. The pair grappled for about 3 1/2 minutes before Farrell’s arm finally fell.

There was more head-banging and face-slapping as the second round began. About 100 onlookers clapped and cheered, drowning out the basketball game on TV.

Gilmour’s second opponent was Bruiser Neal, 27, a 235-pound fleet manager from La Puente who has won three arm-wrestling championships.

Neal snorted, pumping up his massive chest. He flashed a withering sneer across the table and thrust his thick arm toward Gilmour.

Gilmour smiled back. Get a grip, he counseled Neal. Or as he put it: “Don’t look so serious .”

Neal answered with another snort. And then he pinned Gilmour in two seconds.

The third round came and went just as quickly. John Lomeli, 34, an unemployed lumber mill worker from Rosemead who weighs 265 pounds, dispatched Gilmour with scarcely a grunt.

The three-day contest ended with Whittier warehouseman Les Zollman, 37, winning in the heavyweight classification. Cabinetmaker Craig Greene, 32, of Arleta won the middleweight division. Loading dock foreman Dick Ingwaldson, 45, of Glendora took the men’s lightweight division, and teacher Lisa Cynkin, 27, also of Glendora, claimed the women’s title.

Bar owner Gary Thayer, 26, of Arcadia emerged as the big winner, though. Thanks to the liquor dealer’s half-price promotion, he went through 18 bottles of the sponsoring whiskey. Normally, he is lucky if he empties a single bottle a week.

Gilmour stopped to chat about old times with Barton on his way out of the bar.

“If I won any prize money, I’d planned to give it to charity anyway,” Gilmour said.

Give the man a hand.