WHAT WAS SOMETHING that got you excited about track & field when you were young and impressionable?
Just this morning our esteemed High School Boys Editor, Jack Shepard (he’s held at least a share of his job title for 58 years), put the question above to the T&FN staff. Jack’s own answer:
“One of my earliest memories was a 1947 USC dual meet. Hearing the starting gun for the 220 deep in the tunnel at the Coliseum, waiting several seconds for the participants to emerge, and seeing Mel Patton already leading by 5 yards. 1947 was my breakout year, even though I had been at track meets as early as 1941, with a long WWII break in between.”
Jack’s “fire-lighting” memory is a chestnut! Fuel for the imaginations of those of us too young to have seen a stadium tunnel start or a 220 run on the straight. Mel Patton was “The World’s Fastest Human” in that moment when he amped up Jack’s world. He equaled the WR for 100 yards in ’47 and was set to start a run of three straight NCAA 100 titles — including a 100/220 double in ’49.
Were baseball to have been the sport that become Shepard’s lifelong obsession, it’s as though, out of the blue, he had witnessed Ted Williams or Joe DiMaggio crush a homer or Jackie Robinson steal a base.
What lit your T&F fire?
Mine was kindled on the participant side as I wandered on to the track team as a high school soph. To that point, sports and I had a below average relationship. “Please, please, please, don’t pass me that basketball!” At best, I could serve, volley and lob on a tennis court without embarrassing myself.
No, I didn’t break out as a track star. I could hold my own as a frosh-soph 2-miler, though, and operate in the mix of dual meet miles.
Early spring — this time of year — always lets flow a flood of memories. Training was a blast. Track work hurt. As distance runners, we spent many afternoon hours rolling over local trails and streets. For a while our thing was kicking a tennis ball ahead of us for miles.
We built a little fitness over a few weeks. Then came the dual meets. Bus ride to the first one. Now it’s time to line up for the mile. Jangling nerves as though a hoops pass was coming my way. But with preparation, not panic. Pace? Knew nothing about that. Just run with these guys and try to beat ’em. Honestly, I have no memory of where I placed in that race. Third, 2nd, who knows?
I adored this endeavor, even the nervous-as-a-cat part. I ended that season with a 26-second PR in the 2-mile, 10:10, 3rd in the league frosh-soph race. Not a star, pretty good. No extinguishing the fire after that.
How in the bigger picture was my fanhood born? I guess when I learned six high school kids broke 9:00 that season. Holy cow! I’d better read up on this sport. I watched a USC-UCLA dual meet on TV one afternoon before racing in an evening invitational.
I discovered my coach’s Track & Field News trove. That summer, I pored through the LA Times sports section. In that ’78 season over 81 days a gap-toothed Kenyan Washington State soph, Henry Rono, reeled off WRs in the 5000, steeple, 10,000 and 3000.
A brash Brit called Steve Ovett ruled the mile. Another Brit, a wiry figure named Sebastian Coe, was rising in the 800. The next season he exploded into the 1500/mile picture. Stoking my imagination even further, a local Southern Californian (UC Irvine), Steve Scott, won the NCAA 1500 title and ran a 3:52 mile that summer.
With a hot slate of invitational meets on the local schedule in the era —Sunkist and LA Times meets indoors, the Pepsi meet outdoors at UCLA — soon enough I saw many of these demigods compete with my own eyes.
At the ’79 Pepsi meet, Jeff Nelson, a senior at Burbank High just 20 minutes by car from the ’burb I called home, burned through a 2M in 8:36.3.
Soon other events caught my eye. A UCLA Bruin showman, Willie Banks, vied for NCAA triple jump crowns (amazingly, he never won one) and was headed for a World Record eventually. Another Bruin, Mike Tully, who World Ranked No. 2 in 1977, won the NCAA PV in my first year of paying attention.
As a track fan, I was off to the races. ◻︎
