MEXICO CITY - Going into the 1968 Summer Olympics, organizers were worried about how Mexico City's thin air would affect distance runners. The Olympics had never been held at an altitude anywhere close to the 7,300 feet athletes would have to endure in Mexico, and there were worries about adverse affects to some athletes.
Another thing that was expected, though, was for records to fall all over the place in the jumping events on the track. With much less air pressure holding them down, it was thought that the 1968 games would feature many new records in the sprinting and jumping events.
The predictions were correct, as world records were set in nine of the 23 men's track events and in seven of the 12 women's competitions. The men's triple jump was especially exciting, with the record falling four different times in the course of the competition.
The biggest splash, though, came in the long jump. Ralph Boston was the world record holder, having jumped 27 feet, 4 inches in 1965. He also held the Olympic record of 26 feet 7.5 inches set in 1960. Boston had broken the long jump record six times by himself in the 1960s and had gained a great deal of fame in 1960 by breaking the record Jesse Owens had set in 1936. Though he was no longer the national champion, Boston was still a well-known and highly regarded jumper when the 1968 games rolled around.
But Boston quickly became an afterthought in Mexico. On his first jump of the competition, Bob Beamon stunned the world with a jump of 8.90 meters, or 29 feet, 2.5 inches, a new world record by a landslide.
It wasn't the world record that stunned people - with how often the record had been broken in the 1960s, a new one was expected to be a given in these games. What was stunning was the margin by which the record had been broken. In his decade of long-jump dominance, Boston had extended the world record distance by 14 inches past Owens' 1936 mark. Beamon had just eclipsed the record by a stunning 22 inches. While Boston was the first man to jump 27 feet. Beamon had, in one jump, become the first man to clear both the 28-foot barrier and the 29-foot barrier. It was an absolutely stunning display. So stunning, in fact, that he had jumped beyond the measuring equipment that had been set up, forcing officials to find and bring in a manual tape measure.
For all practical purposes, the event was already over. Even though three more competitors reach distances that would have been Olympic records before Beamon jumped, nobody could come close to Beamon, and he easily won gold. In fact, it took 23 years for anybody to get close to Beamon, with Mike Powell finally breaking the record in 1991. Beamon's mark remains the Olympic record, and Beamon and Powell remain the only two men to ever jump 29 feet in official competition.
HONORABLE MENTION
OCTOBER 18, 1924: A pair of college football games taking place 850 miles have had lasting effect in college football lore. In Champaign, Illinois, in the first game in the new Memorial Stadium, Illinois hosted Michigan, which had entered the game on a 20-game winning streak. The Wolverines had never faced Red Grange, though. The Illinois back returned the opening kickoff 95 yards for a touchdown, then added touchdown rns of 67, 56, and 44 yards, all in the game's first 12 minutes. Grange added another touchdown run and a scoring pass to lead Illinois to a 39-14 win. After the game, a pair of newspaper accounts referred to him as the Galloping Ghost, a nickname Grange held for the rest of his life. Another newspaper story made that day's Notre Dame-Army game live on in history, as well. After Notre Dame won 13-7, Grantland Rice wrote the most famous lead in college football history:
Outlined against a blue-gray October sky, the Four Horsemen rode again. In dramatic lore their names are Death, Destruction, Pestilence, and Famine. But those are aliases. Their real names are: Stuhldreher, Crowley, Miller and Layden. They formed the crest of the South Bend cyclone before which another fighting Army team was swept over the precipice at the Polo Grounds this afternoon as 55,000 spectators peered down upon the bewildering panorama spread out upon the green plain below.
Showing posts with label track and field. Show all posts
Showing posts with label track and field. Show all posts
Monday, October 18, 2010
Friday, September 3, 2010
September 3, 1960: Down to the wire
ROME - In the 1956 Olympics at Melbourne, Rafer Johnson suffered an injury that would prevent him from competing in the long jump portion of the decathlon. Despite forfeiting the points from that event, he still finished with the silver medal.
Johnson didn't lose again in the decathlon leading up to the 1960 Olympics in Rome, though he didn't compete as often as he would have liked due to injuries. Still, the former college basketball player at UCLA was considered one of the favorites at the 1960 games, along with college classmate and friend Yang Chuan-Kwang of Taiwan.
Johnson and Yang made the 1960 event their own personal party, as they traded the lead back and forth as the event went on. Yang won five of the 10 individual events in the decathlon, but a 14th-place finish in the shot put and an 11th-place finish in the discus kept Johnson in it. Meanwhile, while Johnson won only 1 event - the shot put - he finished in the top five in each of the first nine events. His consistent performance gave him a slight lead over Yang heading into the last event, the 1,500 meter run.
Yang was considered to be stronger than Johnson in the 1,500, so the 10-event marathon was truly coming down to the final event. Yang had to beat Johnson by 10 seconds to win the gold medal, but Johnson ran the best 1,500 of his life, staying with Yang the entire way to hold on for one of the tightest victories in decathlon victory.
Johnson retired from athletic competition after the 1960 games. He went into movies, getting several starring roles, including in License to Kill. He also worked on Robert Kennedy's presidential campaign and was one of two men who wrestled Kennedy's assassan Sirhan Sirhan to the floor after the shots were fired.
HONORABLE MENTION
September 3, 1903: POUGHKEEPSIE, N.Y. - There have been many doubleheaders in baseball history. There have even been triple headers, inlcuding one at the Major League level. But there has only been one quadruple header. A series of rainouts forced Hudson and Poughkeepsie of the short-lived Class D Hudson River League to play four games in one day, September 3, 1903. Hudson won all four games, 2-1, 6-4, 3-1, and 4-2.
Johnson didn't lose again in the decathlon leading up to the 1960 Olympics in Rome, though he didn't compete as often as he would have liked due to injuries. Still, the former college basketball player at UCLA was considered one of the favorites at the 1960 games, along with college classmate and friend Yang Chuan-Kwang of Taiwan.
Johnson and Yang made the 1960 event their own personal party, as they traded the lead back and forth as the event went on. Yang won five of the 10 individual events in the decathlon, but a 14th-place finish in the shot put and an 11th-place finish in the discus kept Johnson in it. Meanwhile, while Johnson won only 1 event - the shot put - he finished in the top five in each of the first nine events. His consistent performance gave him a slight lead over Yang heading into the last event, the 1,500 meter run.
Yang was considered to be stronger than Johnson in the 1,500, so the 10-event marathon was truly coming down to the final event. Yang had to beat Johnson by 10 seconds to win the gold medal, but Johnson ran the best 1,500 of his life, staying with Yang the entire way to hold on for one of the tightest victories in decathlon victory.
Johnson retired from athletic competition after the 1960 games. He went into movies, getting several starring roles, including in License to Kill. He also worked on Robert Kennedy's presidential campaign and was one of two men who wrestled Kennedy's assassan Sirhan Sirhan to the floor after the shots were fired.
HONORABLE MENTION
September 3, 1903: POUGHKEEPSIE, N.Y. - There have been many doubleheaders in baseball history. There have even been triple headers, inlcuding one at the Major League level. But there has only been one quadruple header. A series of rainouts forced Hudson and Poughkeepsie of the short-lived Class D Hudson River League to play four games in one day, September 3, 1903. Hudson won all four games, 2-1, 6-4, 3-1, and 4-2.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
September 2, 1960: The Tornado
ROME - Wilma Rudolph was used to running through obsticals. Or as it turned out, running away from them.
As a child, she caught polio, leaving her left leg and foot twisted. While wearing a brace to correct that, she also suffered from scarlet fever, whooping cough, chicken pox, and measels. She spent much of her youth in and out of Tennessee hospitals, receiving treatment or physical therapy, and her family took turns massaging her deformed left leg back to health.
The illnesses never kept Rudolph down, never kept her from her dreams. She wanted to be as good a basketball player as her older sister, and so she became a better one. She joined the track team in high school as a way to stay in shape in basketball's offseason, and she was noticed by a college track coach. Soon, basketball was an after thought, and she was running for Tennessee State on the college track team.
And then she was running in the Olympics.
As a part of the 4x100 relay team in the 1956 Olympics, Rudolph won a bronze medal as a 16-year-old. But she was just getting started. At the 1960 Olympics in Rome, she became a worldwide sensation.
On September 2, Rudolph won her first gold medal, setting two world records on her way to the gold medal in the 100-meter dash. Her second world record, set in the final, was wind-aided, and so didn't count, but she still earned the admiration of the world. Her story of perserverence, helped by the fact that the 1960 Olympics were the first to be broadcast worldwide, made her an instant celebrity.
By the time the Olympics were over, Rudolph had three gold medals, the first American woman to do so in a single Olympics. The Italian press called her the the Black Gazelle, while the French called her the Black Pearl. In America, she was called the Tornado, and recognized as the fastest woman of all time. She was named the AP's Female Athlete of the Year in both 1960 and 61.
Rudolph retired from track and field two years later, becoming an elementary school teacher and track coach, but her exploits were never forgotten. She had a dorm named after her at Tennessee State, had a highway named after her outside Clarksville, Tennessee. And in 2000, six years after her death, Sports Illustrated named her the greatest Tennessee-born athlete. Not bad for someone whose foot once faced the wrong way.
As a child, she caught polio, leaving her left leg and foot twisted. While wearing a brace to correct that, she also suffered from scarlet fever, whooping cough, chicken pox, and measels. She spent much of her youth in and out of Tennessee hospitals, receiving treatment or physical therapy, and her family took turns massaging her deformed left leg back to health.
The illnesses never kept Rudolph down, never kept her from her dreams. She wanted to be as good a basketball player as her older sister, and so she became a better one. She joined the track team in high school as a way to stay in shape in basketball's offseason, and she was noticed by a college track coach. Soon, basketball was an after thought, and she was running for Tennessee State on the college track team.
And then she was running in the Olympics.
As a part of the 4x100 relay team in the 1956 Olympics, Rudolph won a bronze medal as a 16-year-old. But she was just getting started. At the 1960 Olympics in Rome, she became a worldwide sensation.
On September 2, Rudolph won her first gold medal, setting two world records on her way to the gold medal in the 100-meter dash. Her second world record, set in the final, was wind-aided, and so didn't count, but she still earned the admiration of the world. Her story of perserverence, helped by the fact that the 1960 Olympics were the first to be broadcast worldwide, made her an instant celebrity.
By the time the Olympics were over, Rudolph had three gold medals, the first American woman to do so in a single Olympics. The Italian press called her the the Black Gazelle, while the French called her the Black Pearl. In America, she was called the Tornado, and recognized as the fastest woman of all time. She was named the AP's Female Athlete of the Year in both 1960 and 61.
Rudolph retired from track and field two years later, becoming an elementary school teacher and track coach, but her exploits were never forgotten. She had a dorm named after her at Tennessee State, had a highway named after her outside Clarksville, Tennessee. And in 2000, six years after her death, Sports Illustrated named her the greatest Tennessee-born athlete. Not bad for someone whose foot once faced the wrong way.
Monday, August 30, 2010
August 30, 1991: One night in Tokyo
TOKYO - The man had achieved everything there was to achieve in the long jump, had been undefeated in the event in 65 straight meets and had jumped beyond 28 feet 56 times. But Carl Lewis hadn't set the world record. Despite all his accomplishments, he hadn't eclipsed the magical mark of 29 feet 2.5 inches set by Bob Beamon in the thin Mexico City air in the 1968 Olympics.
On his third jump of the final at the 1991 World Championships, though, Lewis sent a message: the world record was going to be broken that night. He would see to it himself.
August 30, 1991, will go down as one of the great nights in the history of the long jump, partially because of the performance of Carl Lewis, but also because Lewis, for the first time in his career, faced serious competition.
On his third jump of the final, Lewis set the stage. He jumped 28 feet, 11.5 inches, a personal best and only a half-inch short of the magical 29-foot mark he had been striving so hard for. The crowd barely had time to register his distance - and the replays showing just how close he came to the edge of the takeoff board, when the impossible happened. Lewis got passed.
To be fair, Mike Powell's fourth jump never got measured, as he scratched by a toenail, but it was pretty clear that he had cleared 29 feet, and it was possible he had broken Beamon's record. Lewis had issued the challenge, and Powell had responded.
It was Lewis' turn, and this time, he met his destiny. He had jumped 29 feet, 2.75 inches. He had passed Beamon. Lewis didn't care that the trailing wind he had would not make this an official world record; he had finally beaten Beamon, could finally claim that he had jumped farther than any man in history.
But while Lewis' jump was still ringing in the stadium, Powell did something even more remarkable. He jumped past Lewis. He knew it was long, spent a few harrowing seconds staring at the scoreboard at the side of the track, until the magical numbers popped up on the screen: 8.95 meters. 29 feet, 4.5 inches. Powell spread his arms wide and ran around the track. His jump had been legal - he was jumping into a slight breeze. So instead of Carl Lewis, the man who had dominated the event for so long, it was Mike Powell who was the new world record holder.
But Lewis wasn't done. He had two more chances at the elusive record, to continue his string of victories. His next jump went 29 feet, 1.25 inches. It was the second-longest jump of his career, the fourth-longest jump of all time, but it wasn't enough. Neither was his final jump, an even 29 feet.
In one remarkable night, both Lewis and Powell had done the unthinkable. Lewis had become the first man to clear the 29-foot barrier more than once, but somehow had lost the meet. Powell had ended Lewis' string of 65 straight victories and broke what had been track and field's longest-standing world record.
Powell would jump farther on two occaisions in his career, but both jumps were wind-aided, and so didn't go into the record books. Nobody has broken the 29-foot barrier since Powell and Lewis both did it that night in Tokyo. Though Lewis would go on to win two more Olympic gold medals in the long jump to give him four for his career, it's Powell's name that remains on top of the list for longest jumps in history.
A recap of Lewis' and Powell's final jumps, giving an idea of the back-and-forth that occurred that night in Tokyo:
On his third jump of the final at the 1991 World Championships, though, Lewis sent a message: the world record was going to be broken that night. He would see to it himself.
August 30, 1991, will go down as one of the great nights in the history of the long jump, partially because of the performance of Carl Lewis, but also because Lewis, for the first time in his career, faced serious competition.
On his third jump of the final, Lewis set the stage. He jumped 28 feet, 11.5 inches, a personal best and only a half-inch short of the magical 29-foot mark he had been striving so hard for. The crowd barely had time to register his distance - and the replays showing just how close he came to the edge of the takeoff board, when the impossible happened. Lewis got passed.
To be fair, Mike Powell's fourth jump never got measured, as he scratched by a toenail, but it was pretty clear that he had cleared 29 feet, and it was possible he had broken Beamon's record. Lewis had issued the challenge, and Powell had responded.
It was Lewis' turn, and this time, he met his destiny. He had jumped 29 feet, 2.75 inches. He had passed Beamon. Lewis didn't care that the trailing wind he had would not make this an official world record; he had finally beaten Beamon, could finally claim that he had jumped farther than any man in history.
But while Lewis' jump was still ringing in the stadium, Powell did something even more remarkable. He jumped past Lewis. He knew it was long, spent a few harrowing seconds staring at the scoreboard at the side of the track, until the magical numbers popped up on the screen: 8.95 meters. 29 feet, 4.5 inches. Powell spread his arms wide and ran around the track. His jump had been legal - he was jumping into a slight breeze. So instead of Carl Lewis, the man who had dominated the event for so long, it was Mike Powell who was the new world record holder.
But Lewis wasn't done. He had two more chances at the elusive record, to continue his string of victories. His next jump went 29 feet, 1.25 inches. It was the second-longest jump of his career, the fourth-longest jump of all time, but it wasn't enough. Neither was his final jump, an even 29 feet.
In one remarkable night, both Lewis and Powell had done the unthinkable. Lewis had become the first man to clear the 29-foot barrier more than once, but somehow had lost the meet. Powell had ended Lewis' string of 65 straight victories and broke what had been track and field's longest-standing world record.
Powell would jump farther on two occaisions in his career, but both jumps were wind-aided, and so didn't go into the record books. Nobody has broken the 29-foot barrier since Powell and Lewis both did it that night in Tokyo. Though Lewis would go on to win two more Olympic gold medals in the long jump to give him four for his career, it's Powell's name that remains on top of the list for longest jumps in history.
A recap of Lewis' and Powell's final jumps, giving an idea of the back-and-forth that occurred that night in Tokyo:
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
August 10, 1984: Decker's fall
LOS ANGELES - Perhaps nobody had a more decorated career as an American distance runner than Mary Decker. Perhaps nobody had worse luck trying to get the Olympic medal that would cap off her career.
Decker was a well-known and well-respected distance runner when she was in her early teens. At 14, she wasn't old enough to compete in the 1972 Olympics, but she likely would have qualified if she was old enough. Her next chance was at the 1976 games, but a muscle condition led to injuries that kept her off the team. Like the rest of the 1980 U.S. Olympians, she didn't compete in Moscow because of the boycott.
That left the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics as her chance. And she was considered a heavy favorite in the 3,000 meters. She had won the World Championships in that event in 1983 on her way to being named Sports Illustrated's Sportsman of the Year, just another in a series of fantastic years as a distance runner. She was absolutely at the top of her game heading into the 1984 games.
The women's 3,000-meter final was held on August 10, 1984, and as expected, Decker stayed in front for the first half of the race. At around the 1,700 meter mark, Zola Budd, a South African competing for Great Britian, decided the pace was too slow and passed Decker. While cutting back to the inside, Decker and Budd collided, sending Decker sprawling to the ground. Injured, she was unable to finish the race. She was carried off the track in tears by her future husband, instantly gaining nationwide sympathy and turning Budd into a pariah.
The person to blame for the collision is up for debate. Budd was originally disqualified from the race, but was later reinstated after officials reviewed the replay. Normally in distance races, it is generally accepted that a runner needs to be a full stride ahead of their competitor before cutting in front of them, and Budd was not. At the same time, it is the responsibility of the trailing runner to either avoid the collision or tap the lead runner to let them know they're there, which Decker didn't do.
Whoever was at fault, Decker's fall became the most famous race of her career. She qualified again for the 1988 Olympics but didn't medal, meaning America's greatest distance runner finished her career without a single Olympic medal.
Decker was a well-known and well-respected distance runner when she was in her early teens. At 14, she wasn't old enough to compete in the 1972 Olympics, but she likely would have qualified if she was old enough. Her next chance was at the 1976 games, but a muscle condition led to injuries that kept her off the team. Like the rest of the 1980 U.S. Olympians, she didn't compete in Moscow because of the boycott.
That left the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics as her chance. And she was considered a heavy favorite in the 3,000 meters. She had won the World Championships in that event in 1983 on her way to being named Sports Illustrated's Sportsman of the Year, just another in a series of fantastic years as a distance runner. She was absolutely at the top of her game heading into the 1984 games.
The women's 3,000-meter final was held on August 10, 1984, and as expected, Decker stayed in front for the first half of the race. At around the 1,700 meter mark, Zola Budd, a South African competing for Great Britian, decided the pace was too slow and passed Decker. While cutting back to the inside, Decker and Budd collided, sending Decker sprawling to the ground. Injured, she was unable to finish the race. She was carried off the track in tears by her future husband, instantly gaining nationwide sympathy and turning Budd into a pariah.
The person to blame for the collision is up for debate. Budd was originally disqualified from the race, but was later reinstated after officials reviewed the replay. Normally in distance races, it is generally accepted that a runner needs to be a full stride ahead of their competitor before cutting in front of them, and Budd was not. At the same time, it is the responsibility of the trailing runner to either avoid the collision or tap the lead runner to let them know they're there, which Decker didn't do.
Whoever was at fault, Decker's fall became the most famous race of her career. She qualified again for the 1988 Olympics but didn't medal, meaning America's greatest distance runner finished her career without a single Olympic medal.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
August 4, 1936: Destroying stereotypes
BERLIN - There's no doubt Hitler was annoyed. Jesse Owens, the black American, had won the Olympic gold medal in the 100 meters. This was flying in the face of everything Hitler preached. Owens was single-handedly contradicting Hitler's claim that white German athletes were superior to all others in the world, that a black man couldn't compete.
After the first day of the track-and-field competition, Hitler had congratulated only the German medal winners and no others. When told he had to either congratulate all the winners or none of them, he chose the latter. This was seen as a snub toward Owens.
Owens never felt the snub. He didn't seem bothered that he was never personally congratulated by Hitler, assuming Hitler was just too busy to bother. However, he wasn't snubbed by the German public. He was treated like royalty. When he won the 100, 110,000 people in Olympic Stadium stood and applauded. Throughout the Olympics, during which he won four gold medals, Owens was approached by autograph seekers in the streets, hailed as a hero. Hitler had to have been bothered by that more than anything.
Or maybe Hitler was most bothered by Luz Long. The German long jumper, competing against Owens, was favored in the long jump. In qualifications, Owens had fouled twice and had only one attempt left to qualify. He was visibly upset. Long suggested Owens take off a foot behind the board, just to ensure he got a score. Owens did, easily qualifying. In the final on August 4, Owens won his second gold medal. Afterward, Long, who won silver, was the first man to congratulate Owens, and they walked to the dressing room arm-in-arm.
Allegedly, the Nazi leaders were outraged at Long's actions. Whether they were or not, Owens never saw any mistreatment or discrimination while in Germany. He was treated lavishly, even allowed to stay at the same hotels as white athletes. Meanwhile, when he returned to America, he was honored with a ticker-tape parade, but then he had to ride the freight elevator at the Waldorf-Astoria to attend the banquet thrown in his honor. He never received a congratulatory message of any kind from president Roosevelt.
After the Olympics, Owens said he was genuinely moved by Long's friendship, saying Long's actions meant far more to him than any of the medals he won. Owens and Long remained close, corresponding by letter after the Olympics. While Long was fighting for Germany in North Africa, he wrote what he feared would be his last letter to Owens, asking Owens to someday return to Germany and meet Long's son. Owens receieved the letter after Long was killed and years later, he honored the German's last request. It was the least he could do for the man who had risked his life to become his friend.
After the first day of the track-and-field competition, Hitler had congratulated only the German medal winners and no others. When told he had to either congratulate all the winners or none of them, he chose the latter. This was seen as a snub toward Owens.
Owens never felt the snub. He didn't seem bothered that he was never personally congratulated by Hitler, assuming Hitler was just too busy to bother. However, he wasn't snubbed by the German public. He was treated like royalty. When he won the 100, 110,000 people in Olympic Stadium stood and applauded. Throughout the Olympics, during which he won four gold medals, Owens was approached by autograph seekers in the streets, hailed as a hero. Hitler had to have been bothered by that more than anything.
Or maybe Hitler was most bothered by Luz Long. The German long jumper, competing against Owens, was favored in the long jump. In qualifications, Owens had fouled twice and had only one attempt left to qualify. He was visibly upset. Long suggested Owens take off a foot behind the board, just to ensure he got a score. Owens did, easily qualifying. In the final on August 4, Owens won his second gold medal. Afterward, Long, who won silver, was the first man to congratulate Owens, and they walked to the dressing room arm-in-arm.
Allegedly, the Nazi leaders were outraged at Long's actions. Whether they were or not, Owens never saw any mistreatment or discrimination while in Germany. He was treated lavishly, even allowed to stay at the same hotels as white athletes. Meanwhile, when he returned to America, he was honored with a ticker-tape parade, but then he had to ride the freight elevator at the Waldorf-Astoria to attend the banquet thrown in his honor. He never received a congratulatory message of any kind from president Roosevelt.
After the Olympics, Owens said he was genuinely moved by Long's friendship, saying Long's actions meant far more to him than any of the medals he won. Owens and Long remained close, corresponding by letter after the Olympics. While Long was fighting for Germany in North Africa, he wrote what he feared would be his last letter to Owens, asking Owens to someday return to Germany and meet Long's son. Owens receieved the letter after Long was killed and years later, he honored the German's last request. It was the least he could do for the man who had risked his life to become his friend.
Sunday, August 1, 2010
August 1, 1996: Golden Shoes
ATLANTA - He laced up his custom-made golden shoes. The left one was a half-size smaller than the right to account for his unique feet. They weighed only three ounces. This was only the second time he'd wear these shoes, and he'd never wear them again.
He stood behind the block, slightly bouncing, staring straight ahead. When his name was announced, he waved both his arms, but didn't stop staring. Called to the block, he stepped forward and crouched down, slowly and precisely lining up. He looked up, not moving, not blinking, waiting.
The gun sounded, and he was off, standing out partially because of his short strides and upright posture, unique among sprinters. But also standing out because of his speed.
By the top of the turn, Michael Johnson had already made up the stagger built in to the 200-meter run. The race was in essence already over. He was going to cruise to the gold and become the first man to win the gold medal in both the 200 and the 400 meter runs. And then, only then, did Johnson really start running.
Looking like he was shot out of a cannon, Johnson shifted to another, heretofore unseen gear, leaving the best sprinters of his era in the dust. With 80 meters to go, he already had a commanding lead. Now the only thing to question was the world record. As he crossed the finish line, he glanced over his left shoulder and saw the sign: 19.32. He opened his arms and screamed. He hadn't just broken the world record, he had annihilated it.
Johnson's breathtaking run in the 200-meter final might have been the most breathtaking moment of the Atlanta Olympics. People had expected him to have a legitimate chance at hitting the unprecedented double gold medal in the 200 and 400, but nobody had expected that.
His record time in the 200 lasted for 12 years before getting broken twice in Beijing by Usain Bolt. Attending the Beijing games as a commentator for BBC, Johnson was among the first to congratulate Bolt on breaking his record
The race: (No embedding for some reason)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ghDPdVE-uc
HONORABLE MENTION
August 1, 1978: ATLANTA - There was only one man left to catch. After a summer spent chasing Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak, Pete Rose singled in the top of the sixth inning in the Reds' game against the Braves, brining his own streak to 44 games and tying the National League record. There was nobody else between him and DiMaggio. Well, except Larry McWilliams and Gene Garber. Those were the two Atlanta pitchers who held Rose hitless in five plate appearances on August 1, ending his run at DiMaggio. Rose gave it a good shot, though, hitting two hard line drive outs among his five plate appearences. But when Garber struck Rose out to end the game, the streak was over 12 games short of the ultimate prize. It remains the closest anybody has come to DiMaggio since he set the record in 1941.
He stood behind the block, slightly bouncing, staring straight ahead. When his name was announced, he waved both his arms, but didn't stop staring. Called to the block, he stepped forward and crouched down, slowly and precisely lining up. He looked up, not moving, not blinking, waiting.
The gun sounded, and he was off, standing out partially because of his short strides and upright posture, unique among sprinters. But also standing out because of his speed.
By the top of the turn, Michael Johnson had already made up the stagger built in to the 200-meter run. The race was in essence already over. He was going to cruise to the gold and become the first man to win the gold medal in both the 200 and the 400 meter runs. And then, only then, did Johnson really start running.
Looking like he was shot out of a cannon, Johnson shifted to another, heretofore unseen gear, leaving the best sprinters of his era in the dust. With 80 meters to go, he already had a commanding lead. Now the only thing to question was the world record. As he crossed the finish line, he glanced over his left shoulder and saw the sign: 19.32. He opened his arms and screamed. He hadn't just broken the world record, he had annihilated it.Johnson's breathtaking run in the 200-meter final might have been the most breathtaking moment of the Atlanta Olympics. People had expected him to have a legitimate chance at hitting the unprecedented double gold medal in the 200 and 400, but nobody had expected that.
His record time in the 200 lasted for 12 years before getting broken twice in Beijing by Usain Bolt. Attending the Beijing games as a commentator for BBC, Johnson was among the first to congratulate Bolt on breaking his record
The race: (No embedding for some reason)
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2ghDPdVE-uc
HONORABLE MENTION
August 1, 1978: ATLANTA - There was only one man left to catch. After a summer spent chasing Joe DiMaggio's 56-game hitting streak, Pete Rose singled in the top of the sixth inning in the Reds' game against the Braves, brining his own streak to 44 games and tying the National League record. There was nobody else between him and DiMaggio. Well, except Larry McWilliams and Gene Garber. Those were the two Atlanta pitchers who held Rose hitless in five plate appearances on August 1, ending his run at DiMaggio. Rose gave it a good shot, though, hitting two hard line drive outs among his five plate appearences. But when Garber struck Rose out to end the game, the streak was over 12 games short of the ultimate prize. It remains the closest anybody has come to DiMaggio since he set the record in 1941.
Friday, July 30, 2010
July 30, 1976: Keeping up with ... Bruce
MONTREAL - In today's pop culture society, it's surprisingly easy for somebody to become famous despite having no discernable talent, in essence, becoming famous for being famous.
A perfect example of this is the Kardashians. If you ask people why Kim, Khloe, and Kourtney are famous, they'd probably say because of their reality series. OK, fine. But why were they famous enough to warrant their own reality series? There's the question. They somehow became famous without anybody really knowing why.
Their stepfather, however, earned his fame. Bruce Jenner finished 10th in the decathlon at the 1972 Olympics, then completely dedicated himself to improving for the 1976 games in Montreal. He put all his efforts towards training, spending eight hours a day at a training center in San Jose. His training regimine at San Jose was so well-known that the city became a hotbed for training elite athletes.
The extra work started to pay off, as Jenner was the American champion in the decathlon in both 1974 and 1976. Entering the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, he was expected to be in a medal battle with the Soviet Union's Nikolai Avilov, who had set a world record in the 1972 games, and future world record holder Guido Kratschmer of West Germany.
The first day of the decathlon ended with the 400 meter run, during which ABC cameras caught all of Jenner's emotions and strain in slow motion, a shot that became one of the iconic shots in Olympic history. Jenner ended the first day in third place, behind Kratschmer and Avilov. He had said earlier that he felt he could be as low as sixth after the first day and still win, so he was excited about his prospects.
On day 2, July 30, Jenner made his move. Kratschmer fell to third place after the discus, with Avilov and Jenner each moving up a spot. Jenner took the lead after the pole vault, with Avilov falling to third and Kratschmer rising to second. Jenner extended his lead after the javelin, leaving only the 1,500 meter run left.
The only real drama left for the 1,500 was whether Jenner would set the world record. After three laps, comfortably in second place, it seemed Jenner would be satisfied with simply a gold medal. But then the bell sounded, signifying the last lap, and Jenner took off. Television viewers were transfixed, watching as a man who should have been exhausted instead pushed on with a final burst of speed, knowing exactly what time he needed to get to set the world record. When Jenner crossed the finish line, he looked up at the scoreboard and saw he had it. And his fame was forever ensured.
Highlights from the second day of the decathlon
A perfect example of this is the Kardashians. If you ask people why Kim, Khloe, and Kourtney are famous, they'd probably say because of their reality series. OK, fine. But why were they famous enough to warrant their own reality series? There's the question. They somehow became famous without anybody really knowing why.
Their stepfather, however, earned his fame. Bruce Jenner finished 10th in the decathlon at the 1972 Olympics, then completely dedicated himself to improving for the 1976 games in Montreal. He put all his efforts towards training, spending eight hours a day at a training center in San Jose. His training regimine at San Jose was so well-known that the city became a hotbed for training elite athletes.
The extra work started to pay off, as Jenner was the American champion in the decathlon in both 1974 and 1976. Entering the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, he was expected to be in a medal battle with the Soviet Union's Nikolai Avilov, who had set a world record in the 1972 games, and future world record holder Guido Kratschmer of West Germany.
The first day of the decathlon ended with the 400 meter run, during which ABC cameras caught all of Jenner's emotions and strain in slow motion, a shot that became one of the iconic shots in Olympic history. Jenner ended the first day in third place, behind Kratschmer and Avilov. He had said earlier that he felt he could be as low as sixth after the first day and still win, so he was excited about his prospects.
On day 2, July 30, Jenner made his move. Kratschmer fell to third place after the discus, with Avilov and Jenner each moving up a spot. Jenner took the lead after the pole vault, with Avilov falling to third and Kratschmer rising to second. Jenner extended his lead after the javelin, leaving only the 1,500 meter run left.
The only real drama left for the 1,500 was whether Jenner would set the world record. After three laps, comfortably in second place, it seemed Jenner would be satisfied with simply a gold medal. But then the bell sounded, signifying the last lap, and Jenner took off. Television viewers were transfixed, watching as a man who should have been exhausted instead pushed on with a final burst of speed, knowing exactly what time he needed to get to set the world record. When Jenner crossed the finish line, he looked up at the scoreboard and saw he had it. And his fame was forever ensured.
Highlights from the second day of the decathlon
Thursday, July 29, 2010
July 29, 1996: Four times golden
ATLANTA - Carl Lewis didn't have much left to prove when the 1996 Olympics rolled around. Already an eight-time gold medalist, he was respected as the best American track athlete since at least Jesse Owens, and possibly of all time. Still, he had one more milestone to reach: win a medal in four straight Olympics.
One of the best sprinters and jumpers of his generation, Lewis easily qualified in the long jump for the fifth straight Olympics. He had won three straight gold medals in the event, and since he didn't compete at the boycotted 1980 Olympics, he had never been beaten in the long jump in Olympics competition. The long jump was considered his best chance at another gold.
As it turned out, it would be his only chance. He failed to qualify for the U.S. team in the 100-meters, and despite stating his desire to be a part of the 4x100 relay team, he was left off that squad. So it was the long jump or nothing for Lewis at Atlanta.
Despite being the three-time champion, Lewis wasn't seen as a favorite in the long jump, with world record holder Mike Powell and Ivan Pedroso, the top jumper in the world that year, both in that year's field. But Powell and Pedroso were both injured at the Olympics and were competing at less than full strength. That gave Lewis the opening he needed.
On his third jump, Lewis jumped 27 feet, 10.5 inches, putting him in the lead. He only had to jump one more time, as nobody got close to him. Lewis had won his fourth straight gold medal in the long jump, making him the third athlete, and second American, to win gold in the same event in four straight Olympics.
Having turned 35 just weeks before the 1996 Olympics, Lewis knew he was near the end of his career. His ninth gold medal tied him for most by an individual in history, something that added to the controversy over leaving him off the 4x100 relay team. As it turned out, the relay team was beaten for the first time in Olympic history that year, and Lewis likely wouldn't have helped the team improve to the gold at his age. Also, while Lewis tied for the gold medal record at the 1996 games, that mark has since been broken by Michael Phelps.
As it turned out, the 1996 games were Lewis' last international competition. At his retirement, he was honored as one of the best Olympians ever, regardless of nationality. Winning golds in four straight Olympics will do that for you.
One of the best sprinters and jumpers of his generation, Lewis easily qualified in the long jump for the fifth straight Olympics. He had won three straight gold medals in the event, and since he didn't compete at the boycotted 1980 Olympics, he had never been beaten in the long jump in Olympics competition. The long jump was considered his best chance at another gold.
As it turned out, it would be his only chance. He failed to qualify for the U.S. team in the 100-meters, and despite stating his desire to be a part of the 4x100 relay team, he was left off that squad. So it was the long jump or nothing for Lewis at Atlanta.
Despite being the three-time champion, Lewis wasn't seen as a favorite in the long jump, with world record holder Mike Powell and Ivan Pedroso, the top jumper in the world that year, both in that year's field. But Powell and Pedroso were both injured at the Olympics and were competing at less than full strength. That gave Lewis the opening he needed.
On his third jump, Lewis jumped 27 feet, 10.5 inches, putting him in the lead. He only had to jump one more time, as nobody got close to him. Lewis had won his fourth straight gold medal in the long jump, making him the third athlete, and second American, to win gold in the same event in four straight Olympics.
Having turned 35 just weeks before the 1996 Olympics, Lewis knew he was near the end of his career. His ninth gold medal tied him for most by an individual in history, something that added to the controversy over leaving him off the 4x100 relay team. As it turned out, the relay team was beaten for the first time in Olympic history that year, and Lewis likely wouldn't have helped the team improve to the gold at his age. Also, while Lewis tied for the gold medal record at the 1996 games, that mark has since been broken by Michael Phelps.
As it turned out, the 1996 games were Lewis' last international competition. At his retirement, he was honored as one of the best Olympians ever, regardless of nationality. Winning golds in four straight Olympics will do that for you.
Monday, July 26, 2010
July 26, 1952: Mathias' second straight
HELSINKI, Finland - The light was fading, the competitors visible only because of the illumination from the scoreboard. The 21 competitors were running the 1,500 meters, the final event of the grueling two-day decathlon.
Among them was Bob Mathias, the defending Olympic champion in the event and probably the most well-known American athlete at the 1952 Olympics. The 1,500 was a struggle for him today, as he had badly injured his leg in the long jump the day before. But wasn't under a great deal of pressure to do well in this last event of the decathlon; his victory was virtually assured. He was running in an attempt to set another world record.
Four years earlier, Mathias competed in the London Olympics as a 17-year-old high school student. His age and inexperience showed; he was unclear on the rules for the shot put, to the point where he was very nearly disqualified, and he came close to failing on all his high jumps before finally posting a score. But Mathias put his early troubles aside and went on to win the gold.
Returning home, he enrolled in Stanford, where he played football. By appearing with Stanford in the 1952 Rose Bowl, Mathias became the first man to play in the Rose Bowl and compete in the Olympics in the same year. By the time the Helsinki Olympics came around, Mathias was well known, no longer the inexperienced high schooler of London.
There wasn't much question about whether Mathias would win the decathlon again in 1952. The only question was whether he would break the world record he set two years earlier. The leg injury he suffered in the long jump on the first day of the decathlon put that goal in doubt, at least for a while. But Mathias recovered, winning the event in a record score that would last for three years.
Interviewed after winning the event, shifting his weight from leg to the other in the fading Finnish daylight, Mathias told reporters that he had competed in his last decathlon. He was true to his word, retiring from all athletic competition at the age of 21.
Among them was Bob Mathias, the defending Olympic champion in the event and probably the most well-known American athlete at the 1952 Olympics. The 1,500 was a struggle for him today, as he had badly injured his leg in the long jump the day before. But wasn't under a great deal of pressure to do well in this last event of the decathlon; his victory was virtually assured. He was running in an attempt to set another world record.
Four years earlier, Mathias competed in the London Olympics as a 17-year-old high school student. His age and inexperience showed; he was unclear on the rules for the shot put, to the point where he was very nearly disqualified, and he came close to failing on all his high jumps before finally posting a score. But Mathias put his early troubles aside and went on to win the gold.
Returning home, he enrolled in Stanford, where he played football. By appearing with Stanford in the 1952 Rose Bowl, Mathias became the first man to play in the Rose Bowl and compete in the Olympics in the same year. By the time the Helsinki Olympics came around, Mathias was well known, no longer the inexperienced high schooler of London.
There wasn't much question about whether Mathias would win the decathlon again in 1952. The only question was whether he would break the world record he set two years earlier. The leg injury he suffered in the long jump on the first day of the decathlon put that goal in doubt, at least for a while. But Mathias recovered, winning the event in a record score that would last for three years.
Interviewed after winning the event, shifting his weight from leg to the other in the fading Finnish daylight, Mathias told reporters that he had competed in his last decathlon. He was true to his word, retiring from all athletic competition at the age of 21.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
July 7, 1912: Thanks, King
STOCKHOLM, Sweden - Debuting at the 1912 Olympics were a pair of multi-event competitions designed to reward the best all-around athlete of the games. They were the pentathlon, which had been featured at the 1906 Olympics but were revived under a different format for these games, and the decathlon, making its Olympic debut.
These two events seemed perfect for someone like Jim Thorpe. In his amateur days, Thorpe had proven to be a versatile athlete, starring in baseball, football, and multiple track-and-field events. In college, Thorpe was often the only competitor for the Carlisle Indian School track team, so he had experience in many different track and field disciplines. He easily qualified for the U.S. Olympic team in both the pentathlon and the decathlon, as well as in the individual long jump and high jump competitions.
Thorpe's first day of competition at the 1912 Olympics was on July 7, when the pentathlon was held. He dominated the event, winning the long jump, discus throw, 200-meter dash and 1,500-meter run and placing third in the javelin, an event he had never tried before 1912. Later that day, as if the gold medal in the pentathlon wasn't enough of a day's work, he qualified for
the high-jump final, eventually finishing fifth.
Later in the Olympics, after a seventh-place finish in the long jump, Thorpe competed in the decathlon, a 10-event competition making its Olympic debut. The event featured the 100-meter dash, long jump, shot put, high jump, 400-meter run, 110-meter hurdles, discus throw, pole vault, javelin throw, and 1,500-meter run. Again, Thorpe dominated the event, finishing in the top four in all 10 events and winning four of them. He finished with a score that would remain as the world record for 15 years.
As was the custom of the time, all medals earned at the Olympics were presented at the closing ceremonies. At those, Swedish King Gustav presented the medals to Thorpe, then said "Sir, you are the greatest athlete in the world." That statement was the beginning of a tradition where the Olympic champion in the decathlon is given the honorary title of "Greatest Athlete in the World." But it's Thorpe's response that made the exchange memorable. After being honored by King Gustav, Thorpe's responded, "Thanks, King."
A few years later, it was revealed that Thorpe had played a few games of semi-pro baseball before going to the Olympics. This was a common practice among college athletes at the time; Thorpe's only real mistake was not playing the games under an alias, as was the common practice. The small payment he received for playing those games cost him his amateur status, and the International Olympic Committee stripped him of the medals he won at the 1912 Olympics; the medals weren't restored to him until 1983, long after he had died.
Thorpe continued to make a name for himself in sports after those Olympics. He spent time playing for the New York Giants in the National League, but left baseball after he couldn't hit a curveball. He later played in the NFL, playing for six teams in the 1920s, and also spent time on a barnstorming basketball team. But it's the 1912 Olympics for which he will always be remembered, for the time a King named him the greatest athlete in the world.
These two events seemed perfect for someone like Jim Thorpe. In his amateur days, Thorpe had proven to be a versatile athlete, starring in baseball, football, and multiple track-and-field events. In college, Thorpe was often the only competitor for the Carlisle Indian School track team, so he had experience in many different track and field disciplines. He easily qualified for the U.S. Olympic team in both the pentathlon and the decathlon, as well as in the individual long jump and high jump competitions.
Thorpe's first day of competition at the 1912 Olympics was on July 7, when the pentathlon was held. He dominated the event, winning the long jump, discus throw, 200-meter dash and 1,500-meter run and placing third in the javelin, an event he had never tried before 1912. Later that day, as if the gold medal in the pentathlon wasn't enough of a day's work, he qualified for
the high-jump final, eventually finishing fifth.Later in the Olympics, after a seventh-place finish in the long jump, Thorpe competed in the decathlon, a 10-event competition making its Olympic debut. The event featured the 100-meter dash, long jump, shot put, high jump, 400-meter run, 110-meter hurdles, discus throw, pole vault, javelin throw, and 1,500-meter run. Again, Thorpe dominated the event, finishing in the top four in all 10 events and winning four of them. He finished with a score that would remain as the world record for 15 years.
As was the custom of the time, all medals earned at the Olympics were presented at the closing ceremonies. At those, Swedish King Gustav presented the medals to Thorpe, then said "Sir, you are the greatest athlete in the world." That statement was the beginning of a tradition where the Olympic champion in the decathlon is given the honorary title of "Greatest Athlete in the World." But it's Thorpe's response that made the exchange memorable. After being honored by King Gustav, Thorpe's responded, "Thanks, King."
A few years later, it was revealed that Thorpe had played a few games of semi-pro baseball before going to the Olympics. This was a common practice among college athletes at the time; Thorpe's only real mistake was not playing the games under an alias, as was the common practice. The small payment he received for playing those games cost him his amateur status, and the International Olympic Committee stripped him of the medals he won at the 1912 Olympics; the medals weren't restored to him until 1983, long after he had died.
Thorpe continued to make a name for himself in sports after those Olympics. He spent time playing for the New York Giants in the National League, but left baseball after he couldn't hit a curveball. He later played in the NFL, playing for six teams in the 1920s, and also spent time on a barnstorming basketball team. But it's the 1912 Olympics for which he will always be remembered, for the time a King named him the greatest athlete in the world.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
May 25, 1935: The Buckeye Bullet
ANN ARBOR, Mich. - His name was James Cleveland Owens, and everybody called him J.C. He was born in Alabama, but his family moved to the Cleveland area. there, a teacher asked him his name on the first day of school; because of his thick southern accent, she misheard "J.C." and wrote "Jesse" in the class roster. The name stuck.
To help keep his family afloat, he took various odd jobs in high school: delivering groceries, loading freight cars, fixing shoes. He joined the track team partially because his coach allowed him to practice in the morning to allow him to make it to his job in the afternoon. After setting a world record in the 100-yard dash in high school, he caught the attention of Ohio State University.
After his father found work, Owens was able to attend Ohio State, still working to pay his way because, as a black athlete, he couldn't get a scholarship. He also couldn't live with his white teammates or stay in the same hotels as them on the road. But he could run with them, and he did it better than anybody in the country.
On May 25, 1935, Owens had one of the most remarkable afternoons in athletic history. In the span of 45 minutes at the Big Ten Track Championships at Michigan, Owens set three world records and tied a fourth. He tied his own record in the 100-yard dash, then broke records in the 220-yard sprint, the 220-yard hurdles, and the long jump. His record in the long jump would last for 25 years.
Owens incredible day was a precursor to the 1936 Olympics, in which he stole the thunder from Hitler's Nazi Party. But even those games pale to his great day in Michigan, when one of the greatest American track stars got his start.
HONORABLE MENTION
May 25, 1935: PITTSBURGH - That same day, 280 miles away, another American legend had his last hurrah. In the middle of a painful season in which it was obvious he had nothing left, Babe Ruth was languishing on a Boston Braves team destined for last place. He was a sideshow, a gate attraction designed to help the moribund franchise get some money. On May 25, though, Babe Ruth had one more glorious moment in the sun, hitting three home runs, with his final one being the first ball to ever clear the Forbes Field roof. In a perfect world, that roof-clearing shot would have been his final at-bat, but Ruth stuck around for another week before hanging it up for good.
To help keep his family afloat, he took various odd jobs in high school: delivering groceries, loading freight cars, fixing shoes. He joined the track team partially because his coach allowed him to practice in the morning to allow him to make it to his job in the afternoon. After setting a world record in the 100-yard dash in high school, he caught the attention of Ohio State University.
After his father found work, Owens was able to attend Ohio State, still working to pay his way because, as a black athlete, he couldn't get a scholarship. He also couldn't live with his white teammates or stay in the same hotels as them on the road. But he could run with them, and he did it better than anybody in the country.
On May 25, 1935, Owens had one of the most remarkable afternoons in athletic history. In the span of 45 minutes at the Big Ten Track Championships at Michigan, Owens set three world records and tied a fourth. He tied his own record in the 100-yard dash, then broke records in the 220-yard sprint, the 220-yard hurdles, and the long jump. His record in the long jump would last for 25 years.
Owens incredible day was a precursor to the 1936 Olympics, in which he stole the thunder from Hitler's Nazi Party. But even those games pale to his great day in Michigan, when one of the greatest American track stars got his start.
HONORABLE MENTION
May 25, 1935: PITTSBURGH - That same day, 280 miles away, another American legend had his last hurrah. In the middle of a painful season in which it was obvious he had nothing left, Babe Ruth was languishing on a Boston Braves team destined for last place. He was a sideshow, a gate attraction designed to help the moribund franchise get some money. On May 25, though, Babe Ruth had one more glorious moment in the sun, hitting three home runs, with his final one being the first ball to ever clear the Forbes Field roof. In a perfect world, that roof-clearing shot would have been his final at-bat, but Ruth stuck around for another week before hanging it up for good.
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