So, were they floored or just flawed? Despite a week characterised by a host of marvellous athletic performances — none were better than those from South Africa’s golden boys and girl — the hottest talking point in these parts over the past week has been the authenticity or otherwise of the injuries sustained by England’s two sprinters in Saturday night’s 100m final.
Dwain Chambers and Mark Lewis-Francis were expected to finish first and second in the blue riband event. Indeed, the only debate was over who would be ”one” and who ”two”. But as things turned out it was the man from St Kitts, Kim Collins, who sprinted to gold while Chambers and Lewis-Francis pulled up from their duel 20m short of the line as if they’d both sustained direct hits from the grassy knoll.
What we are supposed to believe, of course, is that both men were victims of tragically-timed injuries. Chambers, his face contorted in agony, hopped off the track on one leg while Lewis-Francis lay prostrate, just beyond the finish line, banging the track with his fist. Several minutes later he was lifted on to a stretcher and, for all we knew, wheeled off to intensive care.
But just 24 hours later Chambers had declared himself fit for next week’s European Championship while Lewis-Francis’s specialist had diagnosed nothing graver than a ”micro-tear” to the hamstring. He too says he expects to be in Munich for the highlight of his season.
So just who are the fools here? This writer in his day job as a television commentator boldly declared in the immediate aftermath, ”They’re not badly injured, just badly beaten.” Few of my colleagues on the commentators’ tribune were immediately prepared to venture such a brutal judgement though I was comforted by the support of various names in the sport and television business — many of whom are significantly bigger than mine — who with eyebrows raised and nodding heads acknowledged all was not kosher.
This commentator’s reaction at the time was instinctive if based on the experience of many years spent on training tracks in the company of the sport’s fast men. And all that has transpired since has only served to reinforce my view. Despite the angry denials from both camps’ hangers-on, the evidence points to two separate impromptu Hollywood auditions rather than cruel twists of fate.
Since the 100m final a unique insight was also offered to me by someone who also knows a bit about the big occasion. Sebastian Coe sat a couple of seats away from me on Saturday.
Throughout the Eighties the twice Olympic 1500m champion was skilled at not only dodging his great rival Steve Ovett on the track but also avoiding the trap set almost daily by newshounds who were desperate to provoke those gilt-edged quotes that would provide them with a classic ”Coe launches scathing attack” type story. Over the course of the past few weeks both Chambers and Lewis-Francis have been happy to fuel the journalists’ lust for head-to-head rivalry. That, after all, is their job. But such back page headlines only serve the best interests of the athletes caught up in the frenzy if they’re able to cope with the huge public expectation they generate.
Linford Christie, an athlete who always competed best when he was angry, used to rough up journalists to create the sort of hype and atmosphere within which he thrived. Coe, on the other hand, says he actively avoided creating newspaper conflict with Ovett because it didn’t suit his preparation. As ready as Coe was to talk middle-distance running with the media, as soon as the topic turned to Ovett, he admits, he would politely bring the conversation to an end.
The trap that Chambers and Lewis-Francis fell into is that they were never in control of the impact of what they had to say. When the big night came — and when Collins gave a hint of what was to come with that scintillating display in the semifinals an hour or so before the final itself — Chambers and Lewis-Francis fell apart.