by KRISTIAN GRAVENOR

In spite of training far less than his opponents, Igorov Metodi, a 46-year-old prison counsellor at Laval’s Montée St-François minimum-security penitentiary frequently beats the planet’s best 25-metre rapid-fire pistol shooters. Yet Metodi—Canadian champ 10 years running and two-time Commonwealth Games champion—gets almost no government funding and can’t afford to attend enough tournaments to qualify for the Olympics.

In 1996, Canada stopped funding the sport and as a result, the St-Laurent resident has a hard time competing against full-time pros. But he frequently beats them anyway.

“These guys shoot 500 rounds every day,” he says. “I shoot 500 rounds in a month because 500 rounds cost $90, so I can’t afford to train the way they do. So I practise about one-tenth as much as they do, so when I win it’s a big satisfaction because I know I’m shooting against professionals.”

Metodi was drawn to pistols as a child watching cowboy movies on TV in communist Bulgaria. He served on the Sofia police force and moved to Montreal in 1992. “I tried to get in the police here, but I guess they were afraid to hire someone from outside,” he says.

The trick to outdrawing opponents who practise far more lies in channelling one’s nerves, he says. “Mentally, I am stronger than them. As a police officer and a correctional officer, I’ve lived with stress every day. Others try to avoid the stress—that’s a big mistake.”

He pays about $15,000 a year to attend tournaments and buy equipment. He has no endorsements or freebies, except for an annual $10,000 stipend from the provincial government to help allay competing costs.

Metodi practises at the island’s sole firing range in Ville St-Pierre, although it lacks amenities he requires, such as solo facilities and a 25-foot range.

He says “about 80 per cent” of his training employs the same toy-gun technique from his poor childhood. “I shoot without ammunition because it costs less,” he says. “But I can’t feel the recoil, so it’s not the same.”

And when he does shoot, he shoots bargain bullets. “I buy cheap rounds for training. They don’t have the same amount of powder, so the way I train it’s like asking Jacques Villeneuve to train with a Honda Civic.”

The rules of marksmanship were radically revised in January. Compensators, which limit the recoil, were banned, as were electronic grips. “The recoil is much more powerful now,” says Metodi. “We have to readapt everything. The trigger is heavier, it’s 1,000 grams compared to 100 grams, so it’s 10 times harder. We can’t readjust very fast anymore.”

Metodi held onto the Canadian title in spite of the changes.

His trigger-happy ways would have led to wealth and glory elsewhere. Had Metodi been Malaysian, his government would have rewarded him with a five-year salary and a new Mercedes for setting a new Commonwealth Games record. “The others asked me what I’d receive,” he says. “I said probably nothing, not even a bus ticket. They thought I was kidding them. I was laughing, but crying on the inside.”

Qatar, Oman and other countries have tried to lure him to move with offers of upwards of $100,000 per annum, a house and a car, but the offers missed the mark. “I moved here once and don’t want to move my family again.”