COE & OVETT: THE THUNDER AND LIGHTNING OF TRACK
Vern Walker reflects on the athletic careers of two of the world's finest middle distance runners - Sebastian Coe, and his fiercest rival, Steve Ovett. Their peak years - 1979 to 1984 - were without argument, the thunder and lightning years of track...
Only once before in the history of mile foot-racing has there been such a same-country, two-man rivalry. Six times, the Swedes Gunder Haegg and Arne Andersson broke the world mile record, as their times edged to the very threshold of a sub-4 minute mile. But the world barely noticed. It was engulfed in the conflagration of World War Two.
From 17 July, 1979, when Coe first broke the mile world record, until the climactic 1,500 metre final at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic Games, Coe and Ovett commanded the headlines in the British papers. And when they bettered a world record, they were front and back page news, and the pages in between. They often supplanted the tittle-tattle of Royalty in terms of paper space. Perhaps, only once did Royalty forge headlines ahead of these runners - on the day Prince Charles married Princess Diana. That day Ovett's missing of his world 1,500 metres record by 21 hundreds of a second was definitely not the front page news. In those years it became fashionable to talk 'track'. All this, because two superb athletes reduced the mile record from 3.49 to 3.47.33 - roughly the length of three family cars - cracked the 1,500m record three times, and between them brought home six Olympic medals. The way they tied on their spikes, the way they spoke and dressed, and even their latest girlfriends came under the closest scrutiny. Their feats demanded attention, the kind of which almost suffocated their paths to success.
A TWO LAP BOMBSHELL
In the British summer of 1979, there were certainly no signals that a Loughborough University economics student was in the greatest form of his 22 years. Coe's mileage was around only 30 to 40 miles per week, and final exams took precedent. Sure, he had posted a PB mile of 3.57.67 but that was two years previously. But there were indeed signs, with the continual slicing of his times over 800 metres - 1.47.7 to 1.46.31 to 1.44.95 to 1.43.97. Then it happened - a two lap bombshell, on the six lane Bislett track, Oslo. The diminutive Coe took on the world record set by the huge Cuban, Alberto "The Horse" Juantorena, and sprinted home to reduce it from 1.43.5 to 1.42.4. Coe had arrived.
Twelve days later Coe ventured back to Bislett, where, over the years, 32 world records had already been broken. He was about to make it 33, this time over the one mile. Three words describe Coe's previous experience over the unique linear distance: infrequent, but successful. Bislett is in an unusual setting. It is a track nestled near Oslo's heart, and surrounded by a brewery and high buildings, which provide shelter from the Nordic winds. When Coe stepped out onto the Bislett track it was like an audacious young cub stepping into the lion's den. Waiting were the outdoor and indoor world mile record-holders, John Walker and Eamonn Coghlan of Ireland, Thomas Wessinghage the European record-holder, as well as the highly performed American, Steve Scott. But suddenly Coe became the lion, and roared out to a half split of 1.54.5. This was 12 seconds over Coe's best, and he was 'floating'. But Coe knew as well as anyone that many a liquid-striding '800' man, can submerge on lap three. But approaching the bell, he looked back to see the best field in the world, except Scott, scattered. Coe: "Everyone was hanging so far back, that I realised I might be doing something crazy." On through the three-quarter mark in 2.52, and past the American. The Bislett crowd yelled their hearts out, banging and kicking on the aluminum adverts, and clapping in unison. Amidst this crescendo Coe entered the straightaway 20 yards up, and going away, to post world figures of 3.49 to Scott's 3.51.2, and Walker's 3.52.9. Coe had slashed an enormous 8.67 seconds from his PB, and had taken 0.4 from John Walker's world mark. Coincidentally it was exactly 34 years to the day since Haegg had reduced the world record to 4.1.4, and 13 years since Jim Ryun had lowered it to 3.51.3.
A month slipped by, and Coe's purple patch continued, this time at the Weltklasse meeting in Zurich. Covering the third lap in 57.6, and the final one in 56.9, Coe chipped a fraction off Filbert Bayi's 1,500 world mark to stop the watches at 3.32.1. Over a period of just six weeks Coe had raced himself indelibly into athletic history, for no man had ever held the world records for the 800, 1,500 and the mile - all at the same time.
THE POWER OF TWO
Enter Steve Ovett. Two weeks later Ovett raced over one mile in 3.49.6, the fastest ever at Crystal Palace, London. He then flew to Brussels, where, before a crowd of 40,000 he gave Coe's 1,500 world mark a real fright. Ovett:Â "If I had expanded my chest as I crossed the line, I would probably have the world record." Perhaps more significantly, the scene was now set, during which two human beings would test themselves to the ultimate, time and time again. In the ensuing years, 1980 through 1984, their feats would become "the power of two", in a blitz krieg of unremitting pace, pitched against time and distance, the like of which the athletic world had never before witnessed. Two gazelles in vests and shorts.
The sporting world now looked at the feats of Coe and Ovett through a magnifying glass, as the rivalry between the two deepened. July 1, 1980: Bislett Stadium, Oslo was once more the epicentre for an assault on the mile record. But this time it was Ovett who would produce fresh figures. Racing in a red Russian singlet, Ovett literally raced in the exact footsteps of Coe of a year before to record 3.48.8. And whilst the Bislett crowd of 22,500 went "bananas", Ovett had to digest the sobering thought that it was but 18 days before the beginning of the Moscow Olympics. Here he would face his arch-adversary, over the 800 and 1,500 metres in the Lenin Stadium. And just to oil the wheels, Ovett equalled Coe's 1,500 metres record - only four days prior to the Opening Ceremony.
Coe had prepared for Moscow by wintering and running among the forest circuits of a well-heeled estate near Rome. He too, had raced at Bislett on the very night Ovett had taken the mile record from him. Here, Coe had broken the world record for the 1,000 metres.
Both Coe and Ovett, their careers so often intertwined but so seldom head-to-head in competition, prepared to face each other in the cavernous 103,000 - seat Lenin Stadium. On the northern warm-up track adjacent to the Olympic action they circled, pensive, and well aware of the world's focus on them. They crossed a bridge, and descended into the bowels of the stadium. Eight very nervous athletes were herded into one small holding room. Their numbers, front, back and on the side of their shorts were checked. Then like the gladiators of Roman days, they traversed the tunnel, and in single file emerged into a huge bowl of sunlight, colour and noise. The stadium was packed to capacity for the first time, topped up by the admission of Soviet troops. Just minutes to reactivate cooling muscles. A few stride-outs. Onto the scoreboard flashed eight names. Suddenly their tracksuits were off. They all stepped up to the start line, heads bowed, and Britain virtually stopped.
Coe the fastest two-lapper ever, made all the wrong moves. He came home barely in second place, whilst Ovett bolted to a win the 800, an event he should not have. Fear runs through sport. It solidifies the limbs. It causes indecision, and wrecks havoc with reputations. Fear can be a motivator. For Coe it was an inhibitor. And for Coe, the 800 was an athletic disaster. Ovett was supposed to be the supporting cast, not the leading actor. When the roles were reversed, the British press exploded. Their "golden boy", was golden no more. Results: 1st: Ovett: 1.45.4, 2nd: Coe 1.45.85, 3rd: Nikolai Kirov 1.45.94.
A WIN - THE ONLY ROUTE TO SALVATION
Coe anguished. To win the 1,500 six days away was his only route to salvation. Ultimately he would reveal elements of his grit and character that produced a climax that would literally stop the traffic in the streets of Britain. The race was the single most captivating individual event in the history of British sport.
The opening stanza of the 1,500 final was a stroll in the park, with laps of 61.6 and 63.3. A "kicker's" paradise. Coe country. Then the German, Jurgen Straub turned the screws in the third circuit with a lung-searing 54.2. Into the last lap. It was hypnotic stuff. Past the final 200 mark. Straub was stretched. Coe was ready to pounce. With 180 to go Coe accelerated like a startled deer. Ovett also "kicked" but he was off the front pace. Daylight opened up, as Straub struggled. And mental agony as Coe reached his limit, and, at last, the haven of gold medallists in 3.38.4. Straub was second in 3.38.8. Ovett, in a race he should have won, third in 3.39. The last 800 had taken but 1.49.2, and the final 400, a withering 52.2. Sheer, brutal pace had overcome all the pressure. At last, Ovett's 42 race winning streak over the mile and 1,500 had been broken.          Â
Ovett may have lost the race, but certainly not the battle for 1,500 supremacy. Four weeks after the Olympic final, he retaliated. In the Rhine River city of Koblenz fans crammed into the small stadium with its high cliff backdrop. Here, Ovett pared a sliver off Coe's world record, reducing it from 3.32.1 to 3.31.36. The stadium announcer was frenetic. The crowd went berserk, and Ovett wondered; why all the fuss? He had seen the digital-clock results beyond the finish line, and thought: "That's not bad. 3.37 point something." The stadium was still in an uproar. Again Ovett looked up at the result, and suddenly realised that the way the Europeans slant the figure '1' had led him to add 6 seconds on to his time. Instead of 3.37, read 3.31!
1981 would see an astonishing cavalcade of record-breaking. Astonishing, because in the Bannister-Walker era a new one mile world record was established, on average, every 26 months. But in August, 1981, Coe, then Ovett, and finally Coe would shave the record three times in just 10 days! It was akin to two dogs fighting over a bone, with Coe emerging as the top dog!
If this scenario was the main menu, then the entree served by Coe was indeed tempting. Running in Florence, he reduced his own world 800 metres mark from 1.42.4 to 1.41.73. It was a time that would remain inviolate for 16 years, a real fossil in terms of survival as a world record.
Prior to travelling to Zurich, Coe trained in the Swiss Alps, on the soft pine-needle covered paths. In the lakeside city of Zurich he wanted both the 1,500 and the one mile records in the one race. Both were in Ovett's name. In this, he failed over the 1,500, but ran onto the one mile in 3.48.53, another world record.
3.47.33: COE-lossal!
Back to Koblenz again, and a week later Ovett trimmed this back to 3.48.4. Quickly the world record was getting shaved like finely cut ham. By the thinnest of margins it was being consumed. But Coe would have the last say. Racing in Brussels just 48 hours later he would run just over 8 yards faster to further reduce Ovett's time down to 3.47.33. COE-lossal!
It could not last. The tempest against time blew itself out, and the years 1982-3 were comparatively quiet ones for the British racers. Ovett was the more active of the two, and in the late summer of 1983 traveled to Rieti, to the north of Rome, and in windy conditions lowered the 1,500 world mark down to 3.30.77.
During 1983, and early 1984 Coe was struck down with a viral ailment - toxoplasmosis - which induced a state of incessant tiredness. It was even difficult to drive, for Coe was tempted to fall asleep over the wheel. His loss of form caused him to be castigated by the British press. His father as well as coach, Peter Coe, was also brought into question. Were his methods the right ones? Coe pulled out of the World Championships to be held in Helsinki. But he persevered, and was rewarded with a convincing mile win in 3.54.6 exactly one month prior to the Opening Ceremony of the Los Angeles Olympics. Nevertheless a huge question mark hung over his form, as he left ahead of the British team for training in the U.S.    Â
To the Los Angeles Olympics. These Games left Ovett with memories that no sportsman would ever want. For Coe it was the very opposite. Ovett nearly missed his 800 heat, due to traffic snarl-ups. There was a half hour call up time prior to the heat. Thankfully for Ovett, this was extended to forty minutes. He qualified with rounds in the 1.44 to 1.46 range, but the smog, and also the heat in the Coliseum, an open bowl with no shade really affected Ovett. He struggled and just won the final qualifying position, by six-hundredth of a second by diving onto the track. Sadly for Ovett the final was not to be a rapturous repeat of his Moscow run. An asthmatic problem starved him of oxygen. He ran on in an almost unconscious state, passing the "bell" in 50.5, to blow up, and finish last in 1.52.28. Ovett was hospitalised for two nights, hooked up to the best medical gadgetry in the world. His condition pushed the British Miners' Strike off the front pages. Meanwhile Coe repeated his winning of the silver medal of four years previously. Even Coe's basic one lap speed of 46.87 could not contain the very tall Joaquim Cruz of Brazil, who won in 1.43 to Coe's 1.43.64.
Despite the pleading of his wife and the British team officials, Ovett swapped his hospital bed, for the running of the 1,500 Olympic final. The final was a race of attrition, and revenge. The favourite, Cruz scratched because of a head cold. Ovett clutched his chest with one lap to go, stepped off the track and was stretchered out of the stadium, his face ashen. Then Steve Scott, the second fastest American over the mile, raced with crazy abandon, only to dissolve into the pack and finish 10th.
A DELIRIOUS SENSE OF ACCOMPLISHMENT
A sunlit stadium of 91,000 Â watched enthralled as the race entered the back straight for the last time. The roar of the crowd followed the runners all the way down the back-stretch, ascended in intensity on the final turn, and finally engulfed us all. Jose Abascal of Spain surged, with Coe and Steve Cram hanging on to him like leeches. Coming into the final curve the blond Cram made his move, pulling up to Coe's shoulder. Coe glanced up quickly to see who was there. His reaction was electrifying. In my mind it energised the greatest straightaway surge I had ever seen in the watching of three Olympics. Cram and Coe both sped by Abascal. Coe entered the final straight with a lead of a width of a singlet. He then put his foot down, hard, fast and was away. Running was now poetry in motion for him. He seemed to defy gravity. Feet of golden wings as he sped to the finish, running head-on at my position at the end of the straight. Sweet, sweet victory. And at the end of his greatest race, he turned, eyeballed the British press seated high above the finish line, and gesticulated. He seemed to say: "I've done, what you said I couldn't do". Sweet, sweet revenge. A film forever in my mind, as he raised his index finger in triumph. A repeat of Moscow, but this time he won against all the odds. After being hospitalised and missing much of his training from July through December the previous year, it was a delirious sense of accomplishment.
Coe and Ovett will be revered as larger-than-life demi-gods of the sport, who may well be ultimately remembered for their intense rivalry, rather than the world records they set, and medals won. As quickly as they had arrived the days of thunder and lightning were now over.