Zola Budd, a class act. Mary Slamey, a bitter rhymes with witch

A few words from Zola herself…

Nineteen years ago, in another life, Zola Budd was running barefoot for Britain in the Olympic 3,000 metres.

She felt a curious bump. She heard the Los Angeles crowd erupt into jeers.

One lap further on, she saw a crumpled, sobbing figure on the grass verge, soaking her red running vest in traumatised tears.

And that is where the grainy film always ends.

That is where the memory always leaves them.

Mary Decker, America's darling, on her backside in the throes of a monstrous tantrum.

Budd, then the world's most notorious political football, running on towards international spite and obscurity.

She was only 17.

Her thin, sharp little elbows pumping. Her white, closed, hard little face betraying nothing.

She finished seventh, but who remembers that?

Her iconic role in sports history is of a girl immorally transplanted from the South African veld in a wholly misguided attempt to bring Olympic glory to Britain, a few exclusives to the Daily Mail, a fortune to her father and escape the sporting isolation wrought on the country that shamelessly practised apartheid.

"With hindsight, I should never have gone. Not to Britain. Certainly not to the Olympics," said Zola Budd-Pieterse, providing the commentary on the film in her head. She can see that younger self, "but it is like someone else, another girl, another life. I can barely remember Los Angeles. It is like a blur. The only thing that is clear is the feeling that I wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible and that I never wanted to run again as long as I lived."

She didn't cry.

Mary Peters, the British Olympic team manager, met her trackside and discovered a teenager in an apparent state of emotional shutdown.

The journey from stadium to village was conducted under helicopter escort so virulent were the death threats she received.

She was bundled on the first available flight to London the next morning, coincidentally with the Duke of Edinburgh.

The whiff of cordite never entirely left the marriage.

The little Zola was largely brought up by Jenny, the eldest sister who died tragically young, apparently killed by a course of chemotherapy when wrongly diagnosed of cancer.

Zola, 14 at the time, was traumatised and turned to running as a refuge.

The combination of physical prowess and emotional need made her a prodigy whose fame would soon leak out of South Africa and into the offices of the Daily Mail.

The English grandfather clinched it.

They would appropriate her as British and win the Olympics.

If she rues the day they found her and her avaricious father, the feeling is entirely mutual.

Apart from cancelled subscriptions and widespread condemnation, the paper had to contend with the teenager herself.

She made demands, threw sulks and saw off at least three of the Mail's staff photographers.

Only over one crucial issue was she ignored. "I told them I didn't want to go to the Olympics."

And the response? "Just silence," she said.

Her bemusement and sense of dislocation was entirely predictable.

She had come off the plane from South Africa, a naive young girl who spent her days playing with the animals on the farm, running with the dogs, chasing the chickens, socialising with the children of the black workers (so much so that she spoke black African dialects as well, if not better, than her native Afrikaans), straight into the cold, grey dawn of England.

From wide open space and broad blue skies to Guildford.

You can see the problem.

Slaney was trying to move up in a "lane" that did not exist.

Great post Alf Shrubb.

pettygrove AC wrote:

Flash forward a whole bunch of years to the Olympic Trials in '96 in Atlanta. The women's 5000 final. Pack running. Slaney once again can't handle being in close quarters and finds herself tripping over Amy Rudolph while Lynn Jennings is kicking away for the win.

If I'm not mistaken, Rudolph was running behind Slaney when Slaney stumbled in that 5000. Seems it doesn't matter if she's running ahead or behind... when Slaney stumbles, it's her fault.

Take a peek at this video.

Zola Budd almost takes a header in this race after taking the lead.

Further comments on '84 race. Budd challenges for lead around curve and edges ahead of Slaney. Once in the straightaway, Budd's left foot flicks out a bit (part of her natural stride) and in bringing her left leg forward, she clips Decker's right thigh with her left foot. The consequence is Budd's left foot hitting her (Budd's) right calf, causing her left leg to jet out in front of Decker. It appears that happens twice. Decker clips Budd twice before she falls, but it never appears that Budd is in a natural/regular stride when Decker steps on her. It's when Budd is off balance that Decker's foot clips Budd's foot/achilles. Conclusion... 50/50 fault. Budd definitely crowded Decker, and seemed indecisive about taking the lead. But because Budd never made any sudden movements in front of Decker, I would have to say Decker had ample time to take action that would have prevented her from falling. Once first contact was made, neither really seemed to do much more than keep running.

I always thought it was ironic that Decker complained that Lynn Williams stepped on her heel several times during the 3000 heats in 84. I seem to remember Williams saying it was hard to run behind Decker because she had such a long and high back kick.