Last Sunday I was strolling through the Panhandle, huffing on my fingers to keep warm in the frigid wind, when I passed a group of people in tank tops and shorts cheering around a small table where two men were arm wrestling.
“Keep looking at your hand!” shouted one onlooker.
“Pull, then lean,” said another.
After a few seconds of struggling, a hand hit the table. Everyone let out a sigh of relief. The winner stood smiling modestly among scattered applause and giggles.
“Who wants to try next?” he asked.
I’d stumbled upon the San Francisco Arm Wrestling Club, a new recreational fitness league that was founded by the winner of the match I’d just witnessed, a soft spoken 18-year-old from Daly City named Xidane Mercado.
Every Sunday at the Panhandle Fitness Court, Mercado teaches the fundamentals of arm wrestling to whoever wants to learn them. He instructs people in how to use their body weight as leverage and keep their wrist straight: “This is called pronation,” Mercado said, gently turning a student’s wrist inward, “and this is supination,” he explained as he turned it outward. “But we want to keep it neutral.”
Since Mercado first set up in the Panhandle in October, the club has hooked around 15 sign-ups, but only a handful (pun intended) of members show up regularly. Mercado promotes the club on social media, but he said foot traffic has been the most effective way to get the word out.
“I decided to do it in the Panhandle because there are bikers, runners. We can set up right next to the fitness center. There are people over there doing jiu-jitsu,” said Mercado, gesturing to the meadow just West of the fitness court.
Not only does all that exercise get the blood pumping — perfect for a cold day like last Sunday — it also gives neighbors a reason to gather and play, something everyone seems to be craving lately.
Since the pandemic, many tech-minded San Franciscans have approached the American loneliness crisis as a consumer problem to be solved. From the great SF run club epidemic of 2024, to AI-powered event-planning apps, to underground social clubs, it seems like everyone in the city these days is trying to make “community” their business, literally.
Gabe Ghiglione, one of Mercado’s opponent-students that afternoon, is one of those people. Ghiglione is the head of global community at Heylo, a startup that itself is a “platform for community groups.” In his free time, he also organizes coffee meetups at the top of Corona Heights every Friday morning. After arm wrestling Mercado (who won, of course), the two swapped Instagram handles for their respective clubs.
“This is what makes a city a city. It’s what makes our neighborhood special,” Ghiglione said. “Now if I see [Mercado] on the street, I’ll be able to stop and say hi.”
Mercado said he wants to grow the SF Arm Wrestling Club into a business eventually. Because there aren’t many other arm wrestling groups in the Bay Area, Mercado is optimistic that he’s in the right market.
For now, however, the club is just for fun. To join, one only needs to sign a safety waiver and be open to learning the ropes of the simple and ancient sport. There are no registration fees.
“I definitely learned something,” Ghiglione said after his losing match with Mercado. “I learned that I’m a horrible arm wrestler!” he laughed.
From the few coaching sessions I watched, Mercado is patient and clear, a teaching style he picked up from his four years in the junior ROTC program at George Washington High School in the Richmond District.
Mercado graduated from Wash in June and was set to attend University of San Francisco on a full ride, courtesy of the university’s ROTC. However, his plans changed when USF rescinded his scholarship after his peanut allergy disqualified him from the military-training program.
“Since I’m taking a gap semester, I had some time on my hands,” Mercado said. “I’m trying to be useful with my time while I try and figure out what I want to do.”
With big life decisions ahead of him, Mercado’s family is by his side. Both his parents were there in the Panhandle that day, wearing Santa hats and convincing curious onlookers like me to come check out the club.
Mercado’s mother, Alex, said arm wrestling runs in the family: Her son’s love of the sport began as a kid, when he would playfully wrestle with his maternal grandfather, Edgar, at his home in Elk Grove. Over the years, Mercado’s grandfather taught him technique, which Mercado then taught to his friends and anyone willing to go toe-to-toe — or rather, hand-to-hand.
Like one third of Daly City residents, the Mercados are Filipino. Both Mercado and his mother mentioned that their heritage factors into the culture they’re creating with the club.
“Arm wrestling is a heavily Eastern European sport. There aren’t a lot of Asians who do it,” Mercado’s mother explained. “To see such a diverse group of people try it out is really nice.”
In the hour or so I spent with the SF Arm Wrestling Club that Sunday, the scene attracted a wide-ranging group of participants: Men, women, adults, little kids, runners, dog walkers, holiday shoppers returning from Divisadero Street with arms full of gift bags all stepped up to the table.
It was the last meetup of the year, and Mercado was pleased with the turnout.
“It’s really nice to see everyone here. I’m a big community person,” Mercado said. He smiled at his parents, standing beside him. “I mean, I’m Filipino. It’s basically in my blood.”
