‘My country did not send me 10,000 miles just to start the race; they sent me to finish the race’ – John Stephen Akwari, Tanzanian marathoner at the Mexico City ‘68 Olympics
As the starter’s gun went, he was ahead of the pack for a while. Then, with about 200 metres to go, he stopped suddenly, held his thigh and went down, writhing in pain. A large section of the crowd seemed shocked, miffed and helpless, all at the same time. But the other runners were not obligated to stop, so they went on to finish the race. And then the hefty-bellied man in a pair of shorts and a baseball cap came forward from the terraces, charging past everyone - including a couple of stadium stewards who tried to stop him from approaching the tracks were the hurting young man was lying. About a minute later, they were both trudging down the finish line in lane 8. The roof of the Olympic Stadium almost came down with the reaction of the crowd – some of them weeping, some wailing, many clapping, many just shouting, but all of them urging the athlete and the party-crasher on towards the finish line. The athlete could have just limped off the tracks to the side of the pitch or, even the man could have simply advised and assisted him to do that just as has happened countless number of times in the Olympics whenever there is an injury situation. But no, not that duo. Instead, they simply 'conspired' to inadvertently create one of the most memorable and cherished Olympic moments in history by doggedly finishing the race.
The race was the 400 metres semi-final of the 1992 Olympics in Barcelona. The athlete was Derek Redmond of Great Britain and the man in the baseball cap was his father, Jim. A certain Steve Lewis, from the USA won that race. But, hey, who cares about him? The history of Barcelona ‘92 doesn’t seem to anyway. Neither do most of us even remember the name of Quincy Watts, also of the USA, who won the gold medal in the 400 metres. But Derek Redmond has been immortalized, canonized even, for creating that Olympic classic together with his father.
I’m still not sure if the initial footage of the race I saw then was a live broadcast or delayed. Four years after the Redmonds’ heroics, I again sat in front of black-and-white TV (this one was definitely live) in the wee hours of the night as Nigeria’s Mary Onyali literally tore out her hair in excitement after it downed on her that she had won the bronze in the women’s 200 metres final at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta. Had one told some other person who did not know what was happening at the time that Onyali had won the gold medal, they would have believed without the shadow of a doubt. Such was the depth of the emotion Onyali displayed. Back at Barcelona ’92 Onyali, together with Beatrice Utondu, Christy Opara-Thompson and Faith Idehen had similarly gone delirious with excitement after winning bronze in the 4x100 metres relay race. Their jump and jig as they hurdled together in celebration is one of my favourite Olympic moments. Ever.
From the days when a scrawny-looking Abebe Bikila of Ethiopia ran and won the marathon barefooted at the games in Rome in 1960 and then performed his stretch-exercise stunts after winning the marathon again four years later in Tokyo, the Olympics has always amazed and fascinated. From the days when a bloodied, bandaged and almost deathly-limping John Stephen Akwari of Tanzania limped into the stadium in Mexico City in 1968, alone - to the applause of the scanty remaining spectators at the stadium - over an hour after the marathon race had been declared over, the Olympics has always captivated and inspired millions for 'victories' other than outright competitive victory. ‘The Greatest Show on Earth,’ as the Olympics is affectionately referred to, has thrown up mighty many such moments through the ages. Moments of inspiration, of courage, wonderment and intense emotions, when it seems that outright winning is only a poor second fiddle to participating and showing a willingness to carry on, no matter the odds, moments of being thankful and joyous (like Onyali) for simply realizing that you are not the worst of the lot.
It’s the prospect of witnessing a possible re-creation of a few such moments that I guess, makes a lot of people salivate as the 2012 edition of the Olympics kick-off today in London. It certainly makes me tickle at the back of the neck. Let the games begin, please.
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