A Night to Remember - Antwerp May 30, 1969I recently came across an article written by John Curtain in 1979 for the now defunct "Canadian Runner" magazine. The race focuses on that famous run, when Derek Clayton a cocky Australian shattered the world record in the marathon, a time that would last for 13 years. What intrigued me in re-reading the story was the simplicity surrounding the life of elite runners and racing venues and the reminder that Toronto’s own Dr. Bob Moore had a significant role in that historic run. To runners weaned on racing in the 90’s and the new millenium, here is a historic glimpse of that run for the record from one runner’s perspective.Derek Clayton’s recently published account of his grim assault on the marathon world record is by now part of sports history. On a cold, windless evening ten years ago in a small town in Belgium, the burly Australian destroyed a stellar field international field before charging off into the night to record an unbelievable 2.08.33! In doing so he realized his dream of putting the marathon record "out of sight" and satisfied his killer instinct by grinding several of his archrivals into the ground.Clayton’s description of the race is an interesting and dramatic one but it doesn’t tell the whole story. What many people don’t know is that tow intrepid Canadian runners also toed the starting line that night. In fact, the man who set the pace and drew the pack through a scorching 29.25 10km was none other than incorrigible front-runner Dr. Robert Moore. Bob is now a veteran of some 800 races and three dozen marathons but way back then he was a young colt of 29 in one of his first big international meets. Although advised by his doctors to quit marathon running for good due to an ankle injury, he managed to finish fifth in the Boston Marathon and earn himself an invitation to Antwerp.Wayne Yetman, also meriting an invitation on the basis of his strong Boston showing, was shooting for a "good one". But he cautiously stayed off the suicidal early pace and reaped the benefits in the final 2km as he passed Moore to grab tenth place in 2.22. Bob hung on for eleventh spot clearly a victim of his own kamikaze tactics but satisfied that he had a "bash".Here is Moore’s version of the event given in a phone interview. It includes the pre-race bus tour, several amusing anecdotes, and a few aspersions on the Aussie man of steel’s character. "Clayton was really quite obnoxious. He’s Lancashire born, Northern Irish raised and Australian finished. He combines all the bad qualities of all those particular cultures. He was very obnoxious. I had breakfast with him several times. He kept forgetting my name and I had been talking with him for the last half an hour! He was high as a kite and was convinced he was going to run a world record. He said: "There’s nothing here but bums. There’s Alder and Hogan but they are overrated." Hogan was the current European Champion and Alder was the Commonwealth champion. There was also Toth of Hungary who was a European champion too. They had the best Pole and Russian and that sort of thing. And he said: "These guys are rubbish, absolute rubbish. Thank God we’ve got Alder and Hogan because I’m going to smash these guys good. I want someone good in the field so it looks good."Before the race Hogan (he’s one of these Irishmen whose every second word is - - - - ) had quite an animated conversation with Clayton. We were going round in a bus before the start. He was very perturbed because he thought the course might be long. Clayton was talking to Hogan and Alder and he was saying: " I’m glad you guys are here because I’m going to smash you into the ground. I think I can run a world record. I’ve just come from Ankara in turkey where I ran 2.17 and it was a breeze and I think I can go under 2.10." Alder said: "I don’t give damn about world records. I would rather win the Olympic gold even if I ran 2.30. I reckon that nobody remembers who holds world records. Everybody forgets them almost as soon as they’re made." Clayton said: " Well I’m going to run the world record anyway and I bet you’re wrong. People will remember my world record. You won the Commonwealth Games but they won’t remember you. They’ll remember my world record." So Alder says: "You’re just ------," And Hogan said, "You’re just a - - - - bastard." The mini-bus was full of athletes. They were listening open-mouthed. They were hanging on every word. The start was really quite primitive. Little villages around Toronto have better stadiums. All you could do was urinate against a wall. The track was beaten earth. So we stomped around. I felt good and said to myself: "Just run as the spirit moves you." As we headed out of the stadium I thought it was bit slow so I took the lead. And I thought: "Well, here goes nothing. Maybe I’ll stick, maybe I won’t I just don’t know." I led through 5k and 10km. I was quite staggered by the 10km because I had never run anything like it before.Clayton passed me around 12km. By 15km (45.20) Toth, Alder and Hogan were with me. I was in fifth, I was still fifth at 20km (63.00). At 20 miles I was sixth. I finally finished eleventh.There was a huge crowd of cyclists following the course. Running fifth I just couldn’t get through. So I was hitting their buttocks and saying, "Get out of my way, you bastards!" and thumping my way through the pack.In those days it was fashionable not to drink during the race. So I didn’t, except at 20 miles where I said, "Oh, hell I’ve blown this. This is too bad, so I’ll take a drink. And I took the drink and poured it over myself because I didn’t feel that thirsty¼. It was hot Ovaltine! It stained all my running gear. I never wore it again. I was staggered! I had to run along holding the vest away from my body because it was so hot!What happened after the race was another funny thing. I had finished. There was Wayne and I and quite a few others just left stranded. There were no busses. Nobody gave a hoot. It was two miles to the hotel. We were penniless. We hadn’t 10 cents in our pockets. The British all piled into a car and left. Clayton has someone meet him and left. Wayne and I were shivering and cold so we gatecrashed a party. It was going on at a house near the stadium. The lights were on so I said, "Come on Wayne, here goes nothing." The people in there were very polite. We never found out what the party was about. They gave us drink and something to eat. It was as if some naked people were to walk into a church. People would pretend they weren’t there. We just had shorts on. The people said "Oh hello."After awhile I said to Wayne: "OK I think we know the way back. We feel better now don’t we?" So we walked back to the hotel. Wayne and I couldn’t sleep. At one o’clock in the morning he comes thumping on the door and said: "Can you sleep?" And I said "No" He said; "Oh I can’t either, let’s go out for a walk. So we walked down the main street, which was totally deserted¼ And up coming up the other way were the three British runners and their coach. We all went into a bar at half past one in the morning. We sat there until about three o’clock just talking and drinking and generally having a good time. We were the only people in the place..."