The final sprint

Some 17 years ago, on August 4, 1983, to be precise, I came face to face with the track and field legend Emil Zatopek. It was in Helsinki ...

Some 17 years ago, on August 4, 1983, to be precise, I came face to face with the track and field legend Emil Zatopek. It was in Helsinki where I was covering the inaugural World Athletics Championship and he was a guest of honour. As a young long distance runner, I had read almost every word written on Zatopek about his golden deeds of the 1952 Olympic Games and his suicidal training methods. In fact, some of my running colleagues and I tried his grueling schedules also. That we failed to carry on those killing schedules for more than a month is a different story. Zatopek, however, remained my hero and I almost froze when I met him in the Finnish capital.

Sitting at the same stadium where he had won three Olympic gold medals by demolishing the world8217;s best distance runners, Zatopek politely answered all the questions fired at him by a battery of sports journalists. Unlike our own demigods in white flannels, which become coloured under the arc lights, Zatopek was modest to the core.

He obliged everyone with his autographs. And when one old woman reminded him that in 1952, at the same stadium, he had drawn a caricature of his with wife Dana chasing him with a javelin, he repeated the effort for the lady in a nostalgic mood. In a lighter vein he said it was the threat of Dana8217;s javelin which made him run faster.

He refused to go into details of his days as a labourer on the streets of Prague after he was stripped of his medals and the rank of a colonel. But his silence and pensive eyes told all the miseries he suffered for speaking against the Communist establishment.

When I introduced myself, he smiled and related an incident of his visit to India soon after the Helsinki Olympic Games.

Zatopek and his wife Dana, Olympic champion in the javelin throw, were invited by the Maharaja of Patiala on his birthday party which coincided with their visit. The Maharaja, a great lover of sport, organised a 5,000 m race in honour of the Olympic champion over the same distance. Even though Zatopek wasn8217;t very keen to race in the heat, he somehow agreed. Knowing full well that he would beat everyone hollow, he did not take the run seriously. He even had a hearty meal before the race. He decided to go fast in the early two rounds to shake off the rivals and then relax. Why hurry with a full stomach, he thought.

When there were 800 m left in the race, with Zatopek in the huge lead, he heard a loud applause. He thought people were welcoming some dignitary. But suddenly he saw two shadows in front of him. Turning his head he saw two Sikh runners on his heels. Completely taken aback, he began sprinting and took the last round in Olympic style, a real Helsinki finish! The crowd kept cheering the local runners and Zatopek just about managed to win by an inch or so. He even congratulated the Indian runners for their gallant effort. But later he was told that after two rounds the said Indian runners hid themselves in the tall grass around the track and joined him in the final two laps.

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During the Indian tour, Zatopek also visited New Delhi8217;s National Stadium, the venue of the first Asian Games in 1951. Several sports reporters and photographers came to the stadium to see him. They waited for the visitor as he was running on the track. The reporters drank cup after cup of tea but like a running machine, Zatopek went on and on. Finally, most of them gave up and went away to meet the deadline.

Now, in his death on November 22 Zatopek has made it to the sports pages. His line to Page One, however, still remained dead.