Track fan

The recently completed World Athletics Championship at Hayward Field was a big boon for USA track and field. By being on mainstream TV at reasonable hours, even casual sports fans (like one of my running buddies) watched the meet with interest on several nights of the 10-day meet. A photographer in the middle of the track in the middle of a race (steeplechase)? Now, THAT’S interesting to a non-track fan! (While I didn’t see that, my buddy Schneider mentioned that he saw that in the coverage!) There were many other must-see-TV moments during the meet, which was a rousing success in terms of medals won for Team USA. Alert track fans don’t need me to rehash the entire meet; besides, loyal readers of this blog know that I’m probably far more versed in advanced baseball statistics than I am in the inner workings and the minutia of track and field.
 
Last night, as we were watching the men’s 5km final in our den (“we” being me + our youngest son James, who was alternating between feigning interest, looking at YouTube on his phone, and asking me politely to put the Mets’ game back on), I found myself mumbling, then talking to the TV and finally exhorting in my best “sports fan voice” as the race unfolded. I didn’t have any particular rooting interest, other than maybe Grant Fisher from Team USA. As almost always happens in the finals of championship track meets, tactics were a huge part of the race. In particular, the three Kenyan runners seemed intent on working together, goading each other to make and cover moves. In my “mumbling” phase, I commented to a mostly disinterested James that I felt the Kenyans were wasting too much mental and physical energy. Also at or near the front of the pack was the eventual winner, Jakob Ingebrigtsen of Norway, who a few days earlier won silver in the 1,500, an event he was actually favored to win. I had never really watched Ingebrigtsen racing. A few oddities: 1. He was wearing a speed suit, uncommon and downright out of place in distance races; 2. He has surprisingly lumbering form that looks neither relaxed nor efficient; of course, Emil Zatopek was accused of such form transgressions, and he was only perhaps the greatest distance runner in Olympic history; 3. Twice during the race, he swung wide to get a few gulps of water. I guess the first time, he whiffed, and then went back a second time to get some precious fluids in a race lasting all of 13 minutes. Very, very odd. What was this, some neighborhood 5km road race where the “winner” was happy to break 20 minutes? Anyway, give JI his due. He took control of the race with 800 meters to go and never looked back. Well, actually, he did look back, but mostly in an in-your-face way as he styled across the finish line with a startlingly easy victory (fun fact, he closed the last 800 meters in 1:52.78!).
 
OK, wait. I said before that I was sort of screaming at the TV and I went off on tangents. Gee, THAT doesn’t happen too often on this blog now, DOES it. OK. So yeah, I was kind of rooting for Grant Fisher; not Game 7 of the World Series with the Yankees holding onto a 1-run lead rooting, but pulling for him nonetheless. I was also playing coach, and I was frustrated with Fisher. Not necessarily at his racing tactics but rather his racing placement in the field. He nestled himself at or near the lead pack. That’s good. He positioned himself near the rail, boxed in on all sides. That’s not good. I went from mumbling to saying, “get outta there, get OUTTA there.” And then, with a few expletives thrown in, I exhorted, “Get. Outta. That. BOXXXX.” Alert Forever Foxes (mostly middle distance Forever Foxes) perhaps will remember my losing my voice (not to mention my mind) saying those exact words (with a few expletives thrown in) at BU or the Armory or any other indoor track middle-distance race where our guys seemed to jam themselves up thusly. Fisher was boxed in. JI made his move. The other top runners jockeyed for top positions, including former NAU star Luis Grijalva, who had a monster closing kick and almost medaled, placing fourth (side note: thanks to PVA for sending me a really interesting piece on Grijalva, who is a ‘dreamer’ and represented his native Guatemala in the meet). And, then it happened. With about 120 meters to go, Fisher, trying desperately to clear some room to make a final push to the finish, caught his foot on the rail. A panicked look flashed across his face. He momentarily lost his balance. He didn’t fall, but that little hitch separated Fisher from a possible podium spot. He hung on for sixth place in 13:11.65. And hopefully, a lesson learned on giving yourself room in the pack. Could he have medaled, had that self-inflicted mishap not happened? Most definitely, I believe so! He's an awesome runner, perhaps one of the best in US history when all is said and done (for reference on his awesomeness, read this excellent profile of him) Hey, look, it’s easy for us coaches to talk about this stuff. When you are in the heat of battle, the final of a world championship, with everyone vying for the same prize … it ain’t easy!
 
Well now. Aren’t you glad I didn’t do a wordy report like THIS on every final at the World Championships? Anyway, it was a great meet, a memorable meet at Oregon. And hopefully, it will lead to a bit more acknowledgement of track among casual sports fans in our country.