By its very nature, track and field is the most coldly objective of sports. It suffers nothing. A bad day, a virus, advanced age - you don't stand a chance. A quarterback can win a Super Bowl with the flu, and a pitcher can throw no-hitters in middle age through sheer craft and skill, if not the help of teammates, but a miler's legs would betray him in either case. The physical demands are too great. There's no hiding and no help. Not in a sport in which the measure of an athlete is right there on a stop watch or a measuring tape or a
finish photo.By those measures, Carl Lewis is the greatest athlete of our time. For a full decade he has ruled track and field like no other athlete in history, and he's done so in the sprints and jumps, the most fundamental of athletic disciplines - and also the most demanding. Athletes rise and fall and disappear in the sprints annually. They are events built for raw power, for youth. Longevity is rare. If injuries don't get you, birthdays will.
And yet if Lewis, who turned 30 this summer, is showing any signs of slowing . . . well, it's all right there on the Accutrak photo.
In one magnificent demonstration of sprinting and jumping at the World Track and Field Championships in Tokyo this week,Lewis set a standard for longevity, power, speed and performing under pressure that has rarely been equaled.
Lewis won the fastest 100-meter dash in history last Sunday, setting a world record of 9.86 - a time once thought achievable only with Ben Johnson-like drug intake. On Thursday Lewis leaped a lifetime best of 29-23/4 in the long jump, albeit just barely wind-aided. Moments later, countryman Mike Powell leaped 29-41/2 to break Bob Beamon's legendary 23-year-old record by two inches, leaving Lewis in second and in tears but never looking better. Powell's second-best jump was 28-01/4; Lewis had three jumps over 29 feet and another one of 28-113/4 - the greatest series of jumps in history.
It is just like Lewis to deliver when it counts most. During non-championship years, he dabbles with singing and acting lessons and generally carries on like a sporting version of Michael Jackson, yawning his way through the track season and mediocre (for him) performances. But somehow Lewis always manages to arrive at championship events in top form.
In three World Championships and in two Olympic Games, Lewis has competed in 16 events and won 14 gold medals. His lone loss on the track was to Joe DeLoach in the 1988 Olympic 200-meter final. DeLoach hasn't been heard from since then.
Lewis was looking beatable again earlier this summer, losing several races to youngsters Leroy Burrell and Dennis Mitchell. At the national championships, he not only lost the race to Burrell, but he lost his world record as well.
The experts called Burrell the favorite in the World Championships 100. They should have known better. After a so-so summer of racing, he showed up fit and ready. Age considerations aside, what was most remarkable about Lewis' victory was the manner in which he did it. Never blessed with a quick start, he was a stride and a half behind the field at the gun. Dead last. He was in fifth place with only 40 meters remaining.
Mind you, this was not the mile; nobody kicks at the end of a 100. But in the fastest sprint race of all time, top to bottom, Lewis ran them all down. Poor Ray Stewart. He ran 9.96 - a time fast enough to win all but two Olympic Games - and he was no better than sixth place. BYU's Frank Fredericks became the fifth fastest performer of all time with a 9.95 - and was fifth. Linford Christie ran 9.92 - the world record at the start of the year - and was fourth. Mitchell clocked 9.91 - the second fastest in history - and was third. Burrell ran 9.88, breaking his world record of 9.90, and was second.
Afterward, Burrell said Lewis passed him like he was standing still. Mitchell called Lewis the greatest athlete ever to grace the track. Christie simply retired - at the age of 31.
But Lewis goes on and on. Speed is supposed to be the first thing to go for a 30-year-old athlete, and yet Lewis is running and jumping farther than ever. He's in a time warp.
Certainly, Lewis' place in history is secure. The second fastest 200-meter dash of all time. A world record in the 100. Three leaps over 29 feet. But perhaps Lewis' most impressive feats have been consistency and longevity. Only 10 men have ever broken 10-flat in the 100. Lewis has done it 15 times - three times as many as anyone else. Before Thursday's loss, Lewis had won 65 consecutive long jump competitions, spanning 10 years. No athlete has ever won any of the three sprint races (100, 200, 400) more than once in the World Championships or Olympics. Except Lewis. And he's not finished yet.