Michael Johnson still has that golden aura
Posted: Sunday, July 12, 2009 7:01 PM
I’ve covered every Summer Olympics since 1984, and only Michael Phelps’ eight gold medals in Beijing surpasses what Michael Johnson did in 1996 in Atlanta.
Wearing his trademark look-at-me golden spikes and a heavy gold chain around his neck, Johnson first won the 400 meters by a full second over his nearest rival. Then he came back to break the 17-year-old 200-meter record and win that gold, too.
No male had ever swept the 200- and 400-meters at a single Games. Few had ever attempted it until Johnson pulled it off. No one has done it since. And if someone eventually does equal the feat, I don’t expect it to be in my lifetime.
Johnson was the picture of quiet self-confidence, exuding an aura of power on the track that you could actually see. When he spoke, it was with restraint and a level of insight and perspective that’s probably never been equaled in his sport – at least not in the seven Olympics I’ve been to.
I was delighted to learn that the man who so impressed me 13 years ago is, if anything, even more impressive today. A broadcaster, documentarian, writer and operator of a training center, he refuses to bask in his own glory.
I got to talk with him via phone from London, where he works for the BBC and writes a column for London’s Daily Telegraph. The call was set up by representatives of Allstate, which sponsors the U.S. Olympic Hall of Fame, which will induct Johnson and eight others into its pantheon on Aug. 12 in Chicago. NBC will broadcast the proceedings.
Johnson was the world’s fastest man as both distances in 1992 in Barcelona, too. But he contracted a bad case of food poisoning before the track and field competition began, and though he had more than a week to try to recover, he had lost too much strength to win either race.
Ever since then, I’d wondered if Johnson felt that he was cheated by fate out of two more gold medals and an even bigger slice of history. Last week, I finally got a chance to ask him. His answer told everything you need to know about him.
The short answer is no. The long answer is the following:
“You can look at it half full, half empty. The other thing that happened is I spent 11 years ranked No. 1 in the world and had the opportunity to compete in the Olympic Games at the height of my career in my own country. I was extremely fortunate to be able to do that.”
In 1999, he set the world record in the 400 that still stands.
“I went to five world championships in my career and won gold medals at every single one of them. I went to three Olympics and won four gold medals. (Two were in relays in 1992 and 2000.) That doesn’t happen with a lot of good fortune and luck. I had to have a helluva lot of luck.”
I know a lot of athletes who would still be whining about the missed opportunities and whining about bad luck. Johnson refuses to look at what might have been and is proud of what is.
He ran with an unorthodox bolt-upright style last seen being used to the highest effect by the immortal Jesse Owens. But, contrary to numerous published reports, he told me he was orthodox in his training. He also dismissed the claim that he purposely ran with a short stride.
“The steps weren’t actually shorter,” he told me. “They were right there.”
Of the two great races in 1996, he said the 200 is the one he treasures most.
“The 200 is obviously a little more special because I beat the world record and it was the completion of the record. My objective was to make history and win the 200 and 400. If didn’t win the 200, it wouldn’t have been completed,” he said.
I asked him if he ever thought that other runners might be using performance-enhancing drugs, a common assumption in the sport. He said he didn’t, because it would have been counterproductive.
“I can’t say for certain that there are any other people. There was nothing I could do about it. I knew that then,” he said. “My purpose was to focus on the things I could control. How could I run as fast as I could?”
The mistake in worrying about what others are doing, he said, is, “You’re giving yourself an excuse. You’re focusing on something you have no control over. There’s no benefit to that. When I was competing, you can only assume everyone was clean. There was no way to prove they were. There is no one that I can say with certainty that they were abusing drugs.”
No one except Antonio Pettigrew, who admitted to cheating in the 2000 Sydney Games. Upon learning that, Johnson again showed what kind of person he is. Without being asked, he sent back the gold medal he had won in the 1,600-meter relay that Pettigrew had helped win.
I asked him if it’s possible for anyone to understand how much work goes into what he made look so easy. He brushed the idea aside. “I don’t look at in terms of difficulty. It wasn’t something I was forced to do. I was fortunate to do something I enjoying doing for a living,” he said. “A lot of people have figured out it takes a lot of hard work.”
He said the same thing applies to every business. People work hard in all walks of life, and if they enjoy what they’re doing, it’s not really work at all. It’s a joy. He said athletes get way too much credit for what they do.
“We’re given – athletes – a lot of credit where I don’t think we’re any more special than other individuals in other walks of life,” he said.
Spoken like a great champion – and a great man.
In addition to Johnson, the other inductees to the 2009 U.S. Olympic Hall of Fame include Picabo Street (skiing), Teresa Edwards (women’s basketball), Mary T. Meagher (swimming), Willye White (track & field), the 1992 U.S. Olympic Men’s Basketball Team aka the “Dream Team” and Paralympian Sarah Will (skiing).
Let me add a personal not about Meagher, who was known as “Madame Butterfly” and won three gold medals in Los Angeles. She’s one of 10 children – nine girls and one boy. One of her big sisters, Anne Meagher Northup, was a five-term Congresswoman from Kentucky.
Northup is the personification of a compassionate Republican. She’s an intellectual and a conservative and she served her district well. She raised a family of six children, including adopted African-Americans. She has a social conscience, which might be why she failed in a run for Governor of Kentucky and hasn’t been touted as an example of what her party can be.
The reason I’m telling you this is because I’ve known Anne and her husband, Woody Northup, since college. The accomplishments of her kid sister aren’t really surprising – the Meaghers are an extraordinary family.
