The personal and global politics of the three summer Olympics.
There were three summer Olympics in the 1980s, taking place in the USSR, in the United States, and in South Korea; but as well as global politics these games would also be remembered for the stars of the track.
As the 1970s drew to a close, and the threat of nuclear war seemed as precarious as ever, the Soviet Union invaded Afghanistan, starting a war that would blight the decade. The world held its breath.
Meanwhile, back in Britain, a showdown of less dangerous proportions, but one which drew a far greater intake of breath from the British public, was about to take place: Steve Ovett, the prodigious son of a market stall owner versus Sebastian Coe, middle class son of a businessman (who also doubled as his trainer). Besides one early meeting in their youth, Ovett and Coe had only competed against each other once, at the European Championships, where Ovett beat Coe, but was himself beaten by Olaf Beyer of East Germany.
These were the days of big rivalries: Ali v Foreman, McEnroe v Borg, Navratilova v Evert. And Ovett v Coe was no exception. Here were perhaps the two greatest middle distance runners of all time (Alfie Shrubb might beg to differ), and the media stoked the story for all it could. The public lapped it up, and everyone had a side. You were either Ovett or Coe. Most favoured Coe, as the media portrayed Ovett as brash and arrogant (perhaps because he refused to speak to them).
The long-awaited showdown was the 1980 Olympics. But the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan threatened to (and eventually did) cast a shadow over the event. Britain's Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher wanted to boycott the event. She failed. But the Americans, and 62 other nations did, and the event was seriously weakened. What should have been a festival of athletics, which would have given many their first look at a young Carl Lewis, became more about a single rivalry — Ovett v Coe.
Coe was favourite for the 800m and Ovett for the 1,500m. On 26 July they lined up for the final of the shorter event and Coe was visibly nervous. Normally a front runner, he proceeded to throw those tactics out the window and sit in with the pack. Never the most physical athlete, it was a bad decision, and one that was to prove his downfall. Ovett gradually worked his way through the pack to lead in the final straight. Coe tried to do the same but was not able to catch his greatest rival. The pair had gold and silver, but for Coe he may as well have finished last. He was devastated.
Ovett had failed to live up to expectations in his favoured event
Six days later the two lined up again. Ovett was a huge favourite to walk away with double gold, having not lost a 1,500m or mile race for three years. But once again fate was to intervene. Just as Coe was overcome by nerves at the start line of the 800m, this time it was Ovett who suffered, with the possibility of being a double gold medallist perhaps playing on his mind. Fortuitously for Coe, Jürgen Straub, an East German, went out with a view to taking on the pair. This played to Coe's strengths and as he rounded the final bend he pulled away. As he crossed the line he held his arms out in a scene that was almost biblical, and that would see its way to the front pages of virtually every British newspaper the following day. Coe was resurrected. Ovett had failed to live up to expectations in his favoured event, beaten even to the silver medal by Straub.
The pair would line up again in the 1984 Olympics, but Ovett was clearly out of sorts with respiratory issues. Coe's 1984 Olympics was a successful one, winning gold in the 1,500m and silver in the 800m. Both thereafter began to wind down their careers. Ovett emigrated to Australia and occasionally works as a pundit for the BBC. Coe went on to become an MP, and was instrumental in the bid to bring the Olympics to London in 2012, as well as organisation of the Games.
The 1980 Olympics had thrown up great performances, not least six world records in track and field and three further Olympic records. But it had lacked the unity of previous Olympics, where even the Cold War couldn't stop countries coming together and competing in a non-combative way. But if the Soviet Union and its Eastern Bloc allies wanted revenge for the 1980 boycott, the opportunity was to come quickly. In 1984 the Games were held in Los Angeles. As expected, the Soviet Union, and most of its satellites, pulled out. Only Romania decided to attend, eliciting a standing ovation at the opening ceremony. The Games would suffer again, as the Eastern Bloc countries were especially strong in the field events. But just as the Moscow Games had its legendary rivalry, so did Los Angeles, in the form of a waif-like, barefoot, teenage South African-turned-Briton called Zola Budd, and a precocious American called Mary Decker.
Budd's entry into the Games was riven with controversy. Her native country, South Africa, was barred from competing internationally due to its Apartheid policy. With the Olympics approaching, Budd was encouraged to apply for British citizenship on account of her English grandfather. This she did and thus became eligible to run for Great Britain. Whilst still in South Africa she broke the 5,000m world record, although it was never ratified due to the fact the time was run in South Africa.
Decker was a prodigy. She qualified for the 1972 Olympics but her age (just 13) meant she could not attend. Injury saw her miss the 1976 Games, and the boycott of 1980 meant she missed a third chance. In 1982 she set six world records, and the following year she completed the 'Double Decker' of 1,500m and 3,000m at the World Championships. The stage was set for her to finally take an Olympic gold medal in 1984, in the 3,000m, with Budd seemingly the only real threat. Maricica Puică, a Romanian athlete, might have disagreed.
Decker broke the Olympic record in her heat, but it was subsequently bettered by Puică. A particularly slow second heat meant that Budd did not need to exert herself too much to qualify, and this she did.
As [Decker] lay distraught in the tunnel, Budd attempted to apologise
Around half way into the final with Budd leading and Decker close behind, Budd appeared to cut slightly in front of Decker who then stumbled and, after stepping onto Budd's foot, eventually fell to the infield. With Decker out and Budd mentally defeated, Puică strode to on to take the race, cutting another seven seconds off the Olympic record. Ironically, the silver medal was taken by Budd's teammate, Wendy Sly, an athlete for whom the British team did not need to apply for citizenship. Budd finished in seventh place.
In the aftermath of the race Decker was carried from the track by her boyfriend and soon-to-be husband, British discus thrower Richard Slaney. As she lay distraught in the tunnel, Budd attempted to apologise, to which Decker, in the heat of the moment, spat 'Don't bother'. Incensed, Decker used a press conference to roundly blame Budd. Trackside officials agreed with Decker's initial conclusion, and disqualified Budd. However, on viewing the footage, Budd's movement was considered unintentional and she was re-instated.
Whether the collision was the fault of Budd or Decker has been much debated over the years. There is now general agreement that Decker should have avoided contact (as is the trailing runner's responsibility) but that Budd should have moved more predictably (as is the leading runner's responsibility). Decker would later say that she was not deliberately tripped and that her own inexperience of pack running was at least partly to blame for the incident.
In 2016 the two finally met up again, for a television documentary called The Fall. Their eventual face-to-face meeting was held in the Los Angeles Coliseum, the scene of their collision. Thirty years had clearly blunted any animosity and the two chatted affably, before taking off for a side-by-side run around the Coliseum. Budd summed it up: 'I think in another world we could have been friends'.
By 1988 it had been 12 years since the last fully-attended Olympics. But the 1988 Games, held in the relatively neutral South Korea, presented a chance for all countries to once again come together and compete. And as the previous two Games had revolved around rivalries, so to, it would prove, did the Games in Seoul.
If Carl Lewis was slightly aggrieved at not making the headlines in 1980 he could take a huge dose of comfort from his four-gold performance at Los Angeles in 1984. He entered the 1988 Games as favourite to win his events, and repeat his successes of four years earlier. But this confidence may, with hindsight, appear a little misplaced, given he was beaten by Ben Johnson — the stocky Canadian world record holder — at the previous year's World Championship, and then again at a meet only a month before the Olympics.
In the heats, quarters and semis Lewis was consistently faster than Johnson, being the only athlete to break the 10-second barrier. Indeed, Johnson appeared to struggle to qualify in third place from his quarter final. But in the final Johnson found a higher gear. Fastest out of the blocks, he pulled away and never relinquished his lead. As he crossed the line he raised his right arm in victory. His time of 9.79 was the fastest ever run.
the only medallist not to be accused of taking a banned substance was the bronze medallist, Smith
But the post-race drug test threw up a problem: Johnson tested positive for the banned anabolic steroid Stanozolol. Within 48 hours he was stripped of his medal, banned from the Games, and his new world record was removed from the record books (his old record would also later be rescinded). There was no right to appeal in 1988, so Carl Lewis and Linford Christie jumped up into the gold and silver medal positions, with Calvin Smith promoted to bronze.
Johnson did return to athletics, but his outstanding athletics career (albeit tainted by his drug use) was finally ended in 1993 when he once again tested positive for a banned substance and was given a lifetime ban from competing. Carl Lewis would go on to become one of the most decorated Olympians of all time, with nine gold medals and one silver. It should, however, be noted that the only medallist not to be accused of taking a banned substance was the bronze medallist, Smith. It was later revealed that both Lewis and Christie had tested positive, at low levels, but were cleared when their versions of why the steroids were in their systems were accepted.
The 1980s was by no means the only controversial Olympic era. Indeed, we can find incidents and tragedies scattered through the history of the Games from 1896 onwards: Wyndham Halswelle running the 400m in 1908 after the American runners withdrew in protest, the treatment of Jesse Owens in 1936 Berlin, the Black Power salute in Mexico City in 1968, the Munich murders of 1972, and the Atlanta bombing of 1996. But whereas other eras tend to have one or two incidents or rivalries, the 1980s was riven with them. Whether it was global politics subverting the Olympic Truce, a rivalry that divided a nation, the barefoot prodigy versus the Queen of the American track, or the elation of victory followed by the dejection of disqualification, the Olympic 1980s were captivating.
For those who lived through it and watched through our bulky television screens, it was a heady mix of disappointment at the boycotts' dilution of the Games, the wonderful rivalries that so mark out the 1980s in almost every sport, and disappointment that one of the great world records was in fact attained through a deliberate violation of the rules.
