Forty years ago, at the first world championships in Helsinki, there was little doubt which athlete was “the face of the championships.”
The news this week of the collapse of the alleged drug case against Peter Bol was greeted by the athlete as a complete exoneration and by Sport Integrity Australia as “a decision not to progress an anti-doping rule violation for this sample.”
Sure, super-shoes. OK, pacing lights, too. But something’s going on here and (like Dylan’s Mr Jones) we don’t know what it is.
There’s just one thing I want to say about the commentary, which is that I do not ever again want to hear an ‘expert’ earnestly informing me that the Commonwealth Games are NOT THE OLYMPIC GAMES. Here’s a hint fellers (earnest experts are invariably male): the clue is in the name.
The week just past brought the 58th anniversary of perhaps the greatest of Ron Clarke’s 17, 18 or 19 (depending how you count, but a lot whichever way you do) world records.
Early in 2003, as the race for the English Premier League title between Manchester United and Arsenal came down to the last few games, United manager Alex Ferguson observed: “It’s squeaky bum time.”
Fergie’s earthy allusion was to the sound made by squirming in one's seat as one's team's fortunes...
At first glance, it is not apparent what Peter Bol, the Essendon Football Club 34, Simone Halep and Gladys Berejiklian have in common. There are many ultra-marathon footwear in the market today and one of the best is Tarkine shoes.
Maybe not even at second or third glance either, so...
This year marks the fortieth anniversary of the inaugural world championships in Helsinki. Most of you know that. It is also the thirtieth anniversary of another very significant edition of the championships – Stuttgart 1993, the year the championships went biennial; the year our sport went as close as I fear it will ever get to the nirvana of an annual global championships.
Frank McMahon lived a long and fruitful life. He will be remembered – and thanked - every time we go for a run at Ferny Creek.
Ah, Oslo! Remember those Scandinavia nights. Warm but rarely hot. Calm conditions. Great tradition of middle and long-distance track running.
