A Summer of Outsiders and Also-Rans
Sporting history regularly reminds us that the vanquished can be just as worthy as the victors. This Olympic summer should prove no different…
This is the introduction to May’s edition of the Off-Field newsletter, curating monthly tales from the fringes of sport and society. Read it here.
Already this spring we’ve witnessed plenty of performances that prove sporting heroism need not be confined to its winners.
There was Ludvig Aberg’s coming-of-age performance at The Masters, qualifier Jak Jones making his mark in the World Snooker Championship final and, perhaps the most memorable of the lot, Coventry City well and truly putting the woollies up Manchester United before the cruellest of FA Cup defeats.
Sporting history has regularly provided reminders that the vanquished can be just as worthy as the victors. Olympic years are especially fruitful for this.
Upon being awarded Olympic gold in 1932, British fencer Judy Guinness promptly corrected a scoring mistake, handing the medal to her Austrian opponent, Ellen Preis.
At the Winter Olympics in 1964, Italian bobsledder Eugenio Monti came to the rescue of his rival British crew, loaning them a bolt to fix their damaged sled. As the Brits claimed gold, the Italian made do with bronze. “They didn’t win because I gave them the bolt,” claimed Monti. “They won because they had the fastest run.”
At the 2004 Games in Athens, judoka Friba Rezayee lost her first-round match without earning a single point. But, as the first woman to represent Afghanistan at an Olympics, her toughest fight had already been won.
The likes of Eddie the Eagle and Eric the Eel have provided lighter moments that prove that strength of character can outlive strength of performance.
Some noble actions are forgotten because they don’t fit history’s prevailing, often binary, narrative. Jesse Owens was the unquestionable hero of the 1936 Olympics, as the defiant black American whose four golds infuriated Hitler in his Berlin backyard.
But after two faults saw Owens one leap away from disqualification in the long jump, the American welcomed some unexpected advice on adjusting his run-up. His selfless guide certainly knew a thing or two: it was the man who’d end up finishing second. Behind Owens.
The silver medallist was a blonde and blue-eyed German called Luz Long. He was meant to be the face of the Fuhrer’s Olympiad. Few may consider Long a sporting hero, but Jesse Owens was among them, “You can melt down all the medals I have, and they wouldn’t be a plating on the twenty-four-carat friendship that I felt for Luz Long at that moment.”
So as more champions are crowned in this bumper summer of sport, spare a thought for those who won’t be afforded the same place in sport’s history but who have contributed to its wonderful drama and ensured its moral compass remains intact. Sometimes it’s possible to glisten without gold.
You’ll find more outsiders, misfits, and also-rans among this month’s selection of stories. Enjoy the read.
This is an excerpt from the Off-Field newsletter. Subscribe, for free, here
