Once every few years it is absolutely necessary to revisit and reflect and pay tribute to one of the greatest runners ever. Seems like it's time again, with the new wave of interest and readers online now...
Christchurch, 3 February 1962, that 880.... in SNELL's own words:
"I drew on a little more effort round the bottom curve to trail him [Barry Robinson] coming up the straight.In my effort to make this contact, I completely lost track of my pace judgement and I listened hard to pick up the threads as we came up to the bell. I expected to hear the timekeeper chanting seconds beginning with "fifty..." but the first call I heard was "forty...." The fifty came up as I went past them.Now, for some unaccountable reason, Barry moved out a lane. I was thinking with particular clarity now -- probably stimulated by the fantastic time -- and instead of being shocked into easing or coasting, I quickly realised that I was feeling as good as or better than I had in many of my other races when I'd passed through the quarter two or three seconds slower. So, through some crazy impulse, I threw away all text-book procedure and sprinted. This was pure effort against the stopwatch now. Into the back straight, I still felt myself traveling fast I was sharply aware that I was well inside both world records as far as I'd gone. It was only a matter of being able to continue. This particular problem didn't present itself until the beginning of the bottom curve. Then, like a wave, the effect of that first 660 -- run in 1:16.9 -- hit me. This was the moment when the real effort of the race was needed. I felt myself slowing. I felt I had come to the end of my run -- and I was only just swinging into the straight. In a frantic effort to keep my legs going, to maintain drive, I wobbled and I was fighting to regain control, to squeeze out the extra ounce of speed as I struggled up the straight on dying legs.
But after going through the tapes, I didn't need anyone to tell me the times. I knew I must have gone inside the records. There were men running from all over the place, mostly with cameras, and in a semi-detatched way I watched the other runners come in. Dupree was second and then Bork. Then I ran off into a victory lap. I was unconcerned about the particular time until it came over the public address system some time later.The most remarkable feature of the race was the speed and ease with which I recovered. I've experienced this before after good performances, which suggests the ability to recover really stems from the mind. When you know you've really achieved something, the body seems to relax into a nerveless state in which it's apparently unaware of any distress and in which functions effortlessly return to normal.
The odd way the race was run is perhaps shown most graphically by the 220 yard fractions. I ran 24.8 for the first crazy 220; 26.2 for the second, easing back then after the first mad rush but still trying ot catch Barry; 25.9 for the third, after realising that I could get th eredord; and 28.2 for the fourth, struggling to get to the finishing tapes. These added up to 1:45.1 for the half with 1:44.3 for the 800 metres on the way. I broke the half by 1.7 seconds and the 800 by 1.4 seconds.As a performance, it was one that, right up to the final in Tokyo, I never thought I could do agian.
My best 220 time, incidentally, is 22.4 seconds. I've never trained for the 440 but I honestly believe that my capabalities are not very far inside 48 seconds and definitely not inside 47 seconds, so this performance brought home the truth of one of the first statements Arthur ever made to me: that the main requirement of the top half-miler is endurance. He pointed out that a 1:50 half was only two 55 seconds quarter, that most half-milers can run at leats five seconds better than 55 for a quarter but few of the stamina to sew two good ones together to make a good half mile. I was able to run the first quarter of this race as men like Mal Whitfield and Tom Courtney had done before me -- within a few seconds of the best I could manage for a quarter -- but where they weakened badly in the second quarter, my stamina built up through marathon type training, was able to combat the dreaded oxygen debt and chip in another quarter with comparatively little speed loss. My second lap was 54.1 seconds. Compare that, too, with the 53.2 second final lap I ran in Invercargill three days earlier."
From "No Bugles, No Drums" by P. SNELL and G. Gilmour. An epic account.
Now, watch and learn from this NZ TV special in 2000.... not only about Snell and Lydiard, from the masters themselves, but from SNELL's rivals George Kerr, Roger Moens, John Davies, and then Murray Halberg and John Walker. This production is legendary and it's pure gold.
To anyone who has ever run competitively, bronze medalist and compatriot John Davies' animated description of racing SNELL in the 1964 Olympic 1500 is spine-tingling. Davies was in no doubt about how great SNELL was. WR holder and favorite Roger Moens' laconic summary of being run down in the homestretch of the 1960 Olympic 800 by the then-unknown SNELL is equally impactful. "I saw this black shadow...beside me...passing me....He was the best. That's all."
If Jakob's rivals pay tribute to him in this way, 35 years after they've all retired, then Jakob can stake his real claim to be GOAT.