Hestrie Cloetes gold medal in Edmonton made her South Africas top sportswoman
Martin Gillingham In a discipline where most world-class competitors look like Kate Moss after a long day on the rack in a medieval torture chamber, Hestrie Cloete is noticeably different. Shes tall, but not that tall. Shes also got hips. And when she goes running into the bar on that sharp parabolic curve, you can spot her from a mile off. Its the arms that are the distinguishing feature. In the final strides of her approach theyre more animated than those of the man carrying the orange lollipops who guides planes at the airport. Nowadays, with the sobriquet “world champion” after her name, Cloete can justifiably describe her windmill impression as a trademark. A couple of years ago, however, it was a hindrance: something her coach, Martin Marx, tried to get rid of in 1999. “When I started jumping I did it,” she says. “And Ive found that without doing it I just cant get to the bar. I just stop.”
Whats more, Cloete can now look at the waif-like figures she competes against on the European circuit without feeling she has to pursue some crash diet to match their results. “Some of them dont look healthy, ” she says. “If I want to eat a bar of chocolate I will do so because it means my body needs it.” The world champion, who is still just 23, subscribes to the theory that there may be a more sinister reason for many of her rivals sparse figures. “They must be on diet pills. If you look at them, it just doesnt look normal. I think they eat well but at some point it just comes out. Close to a championship I wouldnt dare go to the dessert table. But there they are helping themselves to chocolate mousse.” Though Cloetes weight had been discussed this year “Two months before Canada my coach told me I was a little overweight, but I just said I would be OK” the experiment to eradicate the “windmills” has never been revisited. Within months of that, Cloete jumped 2,04m in Monaco. It remains her lifetime best and added 3cm to the national record. Just a fortnight later, however, she sank to her nadir. The Monaco performance elevated her from virtual unknown to gold-medal favourite at the 1999 world championships in Seville. But she blew out in the qualifying competition. It was a salutary lesson. Back at home she was dubbed “a choker”. Thats an explanation that, in retrospect, was not just over-simplistic but hopelessly flawed. She was, however, guilty of complacency. And she admits as much. “My big mistake was thinking Id won a medal before it was hanging around my neck,” she says. lesson learnt, Cloete moved on to Olympic year. And there were no mistakes there. Indeed, having gone on to clear 2m in both the Olympic and world finals, Cloete can now justifiably regard herself as the model competitor. Shes also a shining example to the whingers and whiners in this country who claim its impossible to live and compete for most of the year in the southern hemisphere and still reach a peak in August or September. Cloete can also scoff at those who, two years ago, talked up her idiosyncrasies and talked down her temperament. She is now the world champion and Olympic silver medallist: something she admits has changed her life. The bond on her house, for example, was settled in a single payment. “Some people take 50 years to pay that off,” she says. But she swiftly interjects: “Id like to think it hasnt changed Hestrie the person.” And theres no reason to suggest it has. That was best illustrated on her return from Europe where she followed up success in Edmonton with a series of wins on the Grand Prix circuit. Her month off training at the end of a long season was spent poring over the accounts at her husbands panel-beating shop close to their home in Coligny. “I just worked there on mornings for a month to check all the books and to make sure that all the money had come in.”
Its a remarkably humble existence for a woman who is just plain Hestrie in her small North West dorp but who is transformed into a world champion once she steps on to the running tracks of Europe. Her winter preparation is conducted on the same grass track in lichtenburg where more than a decade ago she struggled along as a 400m and 800m runner. Its also alongside the school where she did matric and where her coach continues to teach. Remarkably, in this era of high-tech training establishments, dieticians, biomechanics and, dare it be said, chemical assistance, Cloete is a throw-back to a time when athletes were true amateurs. Cloete is, of course, just the latest in the South African dynasty of women high jumpers. Though she is, without doubt, the best, Cloete will probably not rest until she has matched the achievement of Esther Brand. Back in 1952 the Free Stater jumped 1,67m to win the Olympic title in Helsinki. Forty-eight years after Brands triumph, Cloete cleared 2,01m to win silver in Sydney. Even after the remarkable events of Edmonton this year it remains Cloetes most cherished moment. “Between the two I will always choose Sydney,” she says. “Its just once every four years and the question people always ask you in the street is, Have you ever been to the Olympic Games?”