Tag Archives: Richard Moore

The Bolt Supremacy: Inside Jamaica’s Sprint Factory” by Richard Moore

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a man cannot be both academically bright and good at sports. This is why my student dorm-mate Dan Dan the Ladies’ Man was so infuriating. Not only did he play for multiple teams across several sports, but he was a straight-A student with aftershave-advert good looks to boot. As his nickname suggests, he had an easy manner with the opposite sex and was rarely without a girlfriend. He was charming too, and a genuinely nice man to be around. Bastard.

One day, my friend John and I hit upon what we called “The Deductive Method”. Following a marathon session of Championship Manager, we had the revelation that all men must be born with 100 points, which are then allocated to brainpower, looks, athleticism etc. In Dan’s case we realised that he had spent his points so highly in virtually all areas that there was only one inescapable conclusion. Below the waist, he had to be built like a Ken-doll.

In the case of Jamaican sprinting, the Deductive Method would suggest that being very fast is a trade-off for the disadvantages of poverty and violence that plague the island. However, others who are less familiar with my personal brand of pseudo-science believe that there may be another explanation for all those medals: drugs. In The Bolt Supremacy, Richard Moore (see review of his earlier book “The Dirtiest Race in History”) visits Jamaica to explore the running culture for himself and see if he can find evidence of cheating. He sets out with some understandable reservations about Jamaica’s success. The 10 fastest 100m times in history are held by 5 men – Usain Bolt, Tyson Gay, Johan Blake, Asafa Powell and Justin Gatlin. 3 of these are Jamaicans (Bolt, Blake and Johan), and of the 5 men only Bolt has never tested positive for banned substances. Some think that he has simply been better at beating the testers.

But is this the whole story? Both Blake and Powell claim they tested positive for stimulants found in supplements they believed were legal. Americans have typically tested positive for steroids or testosterone, which have more proven performance-enhancing benefits. The Jamaican media typically takes great offense at doping allegations and the publicity surrounding failed tests – of course they do. They excuse their runners by saying they are guilty of negligence and carelessness rather than deliberate cheating. The argument goes that this small impoverished island lacks the infrastructure for systematic doping, and that the teams around their athletes lack sophisticated awareness of the contents of sports supplements.

Whether you agree or not, the strong sense of national pride in its runners displayed by the Jamaican media provides some insight into the island’s success. This is a country where the Prime Minister was personally involved in bringing a young Usain Bolt from his rural village to the capital, Kingston. A country where athletics is bigger than football. A country where the biggest event in the sporting calendar is a high-school track and field championship.

“Champs”, as it is known, is the centre of Jamaican athletics. Schools from across the island compete over several days, and winners become national heroes and media stars. One school in particular (Calabar) has an extraordinary roll-call of alumni, including multiple Olympians and world record holders. Track and field is the equivalent of American high-school football; it is at the heart of many communities, and the coaches are professionals, not teachers leading physical education classes in their spare time.

One explanation of Jamaica’s “sprint factory” is therefore that it is a culture that celebrates athletics to an unusual degree. In The Sports Gene (see review), David Epstein suggests that in another country Bolt would have been funnelled into a career as a basketball player, but as a Jamaican he aspired to be a runner. Are there physiological explanations as well? Genes may also play a part in Bolt’s success. Many Jamaicans are descended from slaves, and one theory suggests that because only the toughest slaves survived the brutal journey from Africa, today’s Jamaicans have been self-selected for strength. In addition, Bolt, Blake and many other stars are from an area of the island where slaves revolted against their masters and successfully fought for their freedom. Some argue there are therefore “warrior genes” in this region’s population of just 78,000 that explain their physical prowess. Finally, a statistically significant and curious number of top sprinters are the youngest of several brothers. No-one is quite sure why this makes a difference, but it does.

Genetics and family history may therefore be a factor. However, world-class sprinting is a sport about individuals, and it is individuals who have brought about the island’s success. As much as anything, Moore’s book is a series of meetings with remarkable Jamaicans. There is a chapter where he interviews Bolt’s dad, and we learn that he used to police Usain’s school attendance and make sure he wasn’t skipping class and training to play video games (“I would strap him”). We meet Shelly-Ann Fraser-Pryce, arguably the greatest female sprinter of all time, whose humble nature means she lacks the world-dominating profile of Bolt. Fraser-Pryce’s story is a genuinely touching one of determination and using her talent to pull herself and her family out of the ghetto…and opening a hairdressing salon in the process.

We also encounter the man who is perhaps the architect of Jamaica’s success. Dennis Johnson returned from a US college scholarship in the early 1960s and decided that he was going to teach Jamaicans how to run fast. Bizarrely, he got sponsorship from a cigarette company and drove around the country in his Rothmans van on a one-man roadshow to educate a generation of runners and coaches about technique and sprinting mechanics. Today’s two top Jamaican coaches – Stephen Francis and Glenn Mills – were both attendees. We learn a lot about the rivalry between these two men, including their uncanny eye for talent. Asafa Powell was not a strong performer at Champs, but Francis spotted his raw potential.

Bolt is an entirely different story, as his talent was evident from an early age. For those who think he sprang out of nowhere in 2008, Moore shows how Jamaica had been waiting for Bolt to make his mark for some time. He set records at Champs and the newspapers tipped him for great things. He struggled initially to make the transition from junior to senior, with a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it role in the 2004 Olympics, and was heavily criticised in the press. Bolt looks happy-go-lucky, but there is a ton of work behind his performances. Realising that he was physically weak and gangly, he spent considerable time in the gym to build up his muscle mass. He spent hours working on his technique and would regularly do sessions that made him vomit. Whether Bolt dopes or not, his work-rate is undeniable.

The Bolt Supremacy is fascinating, and if I had one criticism, it is that after a while I found the constant questions about doping a distraction. Clearly something unique is happening in Jamaica. The comments from various scientists that Moore consults are illuminating. “They may not be training very effectively at all” says Yannis Pitsiladis, director of the sub-2-hour marathon project. Imagine how dominant Jamaica could be if more scientific precision was brought to training methods. Dennis Johnson says that Jamaicans are not actually running much faster than the sprinters of the 1948; the faster times can be attributed to improved tracks and kit. Pitsiladis thinks that there is nothing inherently “black” about sprinting, and there is no reason why white sprinters cannot run this fast if they trained hard. Interestingly, he thinks that the Dutch may be a rich gene pool for sprinting, and the recent success of Daphne Schippers would appear to support this.

The nature of Jamaican dominance will evolve over time. Moore meets some of the stars of tomorrow, and they are not 100m specialists. They are hurdlers and 400m runners, suggesting we may be on the verge of a great era for events that have not been in the spotlight. After all, when Bolt retires, it may take a while before anyone truly comes close to taking his place.

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“The Dirtiest Race in History: Ben Johnson, Carl Lewis and the 1988 Olympic 100m Final” by Richard Moore

Seoul 1988 was ‘my’ Olympics. Born in 1980, I was too young to appreciate the LA Olympics in 1984, but I got caught up in the buzz of Seoul. I even remember trying to persuade my parents to buy me a toy of the official mascot, Hodori the tiger (I failed).

The crowning event of that Olympics was always going to be the 100m final, with the two great rivals Carl Lewis and Ben Johnson going head to head to settle once and for all who was the best in the world. Lewis had dominated the 100m for years, but in the year leading up to the Olympics, Johnson had completely owned the event, taking Lewis’ world title in 1987 and setting new world records on the way to the summer of 1988.

The outcome and fallout from the 1988 final is well known, but Richard Moore’s pacy account shows how little most of us know about what took place. Moore has interviewed all 8 of the men who ran in that race. What makes the book particularly gripping is how open Ben Johnson is about his career and use of illegal drugs, and the entire underworld operation required to run a successful doping programme.

Johnson is frank about what he did, and comes across mostly sympathetically as the figurehead for practices that were widespread in athletics at the time. 6 of the finalists in 1988 were subsequently found guilty of, or implicated in, doping offences. There are fascinating hints of a conspiracy at work. For one thing, you learn from this book that Johnson should never have been caught. Steroids improve performance by allowing the athlete to recover much more quickly from intense sessions and train twice as hard. Unlike EPO, as favoured by Lance Armstrong, steroids don’t actually help in the race itself, so steroid users typically stop taking them weeks before they race, so that they can flush them out of their system to avoid detection. Johnson is therefore convinced that his drink was spiked by the Lewis team, and there is certainly a mysterious character in Johnson’s dressing room whose presence is difficult to explain.

Lewis himself is the most elusive character in the book, and Moore struggles to track him down. The book reminds you what a formidable athlete he was in his prime, winning gold in four different Olympic events, including the long jump. However, there are strong hints that Lewis himself used performance enhancing drugs, and at least two known cases where he was found positive for an unnamed substance, but was subsequently let off with a warning. The reader’s view of Lewis is inevitably prejudiced by the fact that he was clearly unpleasantly arrogant at the time, although Moore highlights the devastating loss of his father and persistent press rumours about his sexuality as mitigating factors for Lewis’ aloofness.

Ultimately we are left to judge whether Johnson is right to say to Lewis “I beat you fair and square. You only beat me in the doping room”. However, the incidental details in the book include some hilarious nuggets for future pub quizzes:

Linford Christie is far, far grumpier than I remember from the ‘tunnel vision’ hero of my childhood. He was also already a grandad at the age of 36, which might have something to do with it.

Carl Lewis actually felt his true calling lay outside athletics, and thought his eventual success would come in acting or singing. His attempts to break into the music industry in the 1980s are on YouTube – you owe it to yourself to watch his hit song ‘Break it Up’.

Ben Johnson was a prodigious drinker. 24 hours before the heats (48 hours before the final) Johnson went out on a date with a 400m runner and was knocking back champagne. Even more astonishingly, immediately after his victory in the final, Johnson had 8 – yes, eight! – beers.

To me, that’s the key message of the book. However much we know he is a dirty, dirty cheat who did not deserve his medal, we can still respect a man who values the importance of a post-race pint.

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