Editor’s Note: Elliot Denman is our longest-serving writer for American Athletics (1990-1994), American Track & Field (1994-2017), RunningNetwork (1995-present), and RunBlogRun (2006-present). Elliott Denman, an Olympic racer from Sydney in 1956, is a keen sports observer who can provide historical context (every Olympic Games, 1956-2016 and World Champions 1983-2022). This is a piece I missed that Elliott sent during the Tokyo World Championships. It’s a pretty amazing story, and I apologize to Elliot Denman for this one.
ANALYSIS BY FRANK HARRISON.
HUMANITY’S GREAT EXPERIENCE
DECISION CAPACITY
THE BEST ATHLETE OF THE COUNTRY
BY LAND OF ELLIOT DENMAN
Ten very different challenges. Twenty-four multi-talented competitors. Represents 15 different nations. Big, strong guys Tall, tough guys. Performs for two straight days. Before the crowded stadium.
All competing in the greatest test of humanity’s ability to determine the best athlete in the land. A lot of math. The numbers run into the thousands. Extras every minute. A few unfortunate takedowns, guts and glory on non-stop display.
It’s the world championship decathlon. And my good friend and teammate Mr. Frank Harrison knows the intricacies of the event as well as any of us.
He was a brilliant athlete at Central High School in Madison, New Jersey, then at the University of Pennsylvania, then at the Shore Athletic Club. He participated in two Olympic deca-trials. He had won three IC4A silver medals. He had won the USA-Canada-Japan triathlon.
He’s a major corporate executive in New York these days, but like many of our sport’s most dedicated souls, he was glued to the TV last week, especially the last two days of the 20th Worlds at the National Stadium in Tokyo, certainly in the decathlon.
He was guided by world-class coaches. Roland (Rolly) Kock at Madison Center, Irv “Moon” Mondschein and Fred Samara, each a US Coaching Hall of Famer, US Olympian and National Champion at Penn. They were his “unbelievable genealogy.”
Just making it to the ten-year starting line is a great achievement.
“When I woke up the day the competition was supposed to start, I was already on a huge adrenaline rush,” Harrison knew. “I felt extremely nervous and anxious. So much so that eating breakfast was a big challenge.
“The more I could eat for breakfast, the better my performances came. You need energy for the long physically and mentally draining day ahead. I devoured as much as I could: pancakes or waffles, scrambled eggs, toast, and orange juice.
“The amount of decathlon training is amazing. It is common for top athletes to train 6-8 hours a day, always working on events, drills, drills and other exercises, running, lifting, watching film, flex work and the list goes on. The thing is, once competition starts, these athletes are pretty naturally prepared. explode!”
It was said on the first day of the world. “The meeting was mostly about the Form chart,” he saw. Kyle Garland (USA), Sander Scotheim (Norway) and Leo Neugebauer (Germany) looked set to split the field with Niklas Kaul (Germany) as the dark horse for a medal.
“To me, Kyle Garland is the reincarnation of the late, great Milt Campbell” (the Plainfield, N.J. native, who won a decade-long silver medal at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics as a high schooler, then Olympic gold in Melbourne in 1956 by a record margin).
Canada’s ailing Damian Warner withdrew before the start and it was on with the show: 100, long jump, shot put, high jump. 400.
Garland was out racing. first day total of 4,707 points, good leads from Scotheim (4,543), Puerto Rico’s Ayden Owens-Delerme/AOD (4,487) and Neugebauer (4,455).
With four 900-plus event scores, “Garland was just amazing,” Harrison said.
“The first day is a very, very physical day. There are lots of kicks and all-out sprints. Each of those five events involves being explosive. And it’s almost a cruel joke when the day ends with 400. It’s a war against lactic acid build-up, knowing there are still five events to go, but the next day will be fine. transaction
“You can’t completely relax, you have to relax, but at the same time you have to keep your edge, your focus. It’s a mental thing. And it’s not easy.”
But day two. “It’s a whole new ball game, no wonder there’s always carnage in the Big Dec.”
Disaster struck early on the second day. Scotham, the Paris Olympic champion, crashed at the barrier and was eliminated.
And then Garland destroyed his spear.
“It’s the decathlon’s lament,” Harrison knew. “Garland probably has a bad case right now. He committed a mortal sin by defiling himself twice. It hit us in the head.
“The points sacrificed by staying away from that line are inconsequential, the penalty for making a mistake with a big throw is huge. It should never, ever happen.”
Of course, Neugebauer. Known as a “monster discus thrower”, his rally started with a solid spin. followed by a strong pad and javelin and rising in front.
Now it came down to the final event, the love-it-or-hate-it 1,500 meters. Most people hated it, but not AOD. He jumped to 4:17.91, brilliant but not brilliant enough.
So he settled for silver, just 20 points behind old rival Leo, who ran 4:31.89.
Garland won bronze in 4:45:45. Top three scores: 8804, 8784, 8703.
These three are old rivals and NCAA title winners starting in undergrad, Neugebauer at Texas, AOD at Michigan and Arkansas, Garland at Georgia.
The AOD/Garland rivalry began years before that in the Pennsylvania high school ranks, Garland at Germantown Academy, AOD at North Allegheny High.
Thirteen time zones away from Frank Harrison’s TV, Harrison was actually competing in Tokyo. Stanford graduate Harrison Williams finished seventh for the U.S., one spot behind teammate Heath Baldwin of Michigan and Michigan State.
“One of the highlights of every major decathlon event happens when the match is over,” says Harrison. It’s common to see athletes sprawled all over the track completely exhausted with nothing to give.
“Then, little by little, as they come together. There are hugs and handshakes with each other regardless of the final positions of the match. Then, even better, the sight of all the decathletes running a victory lap together.
“It’s a tradition and it’s good, they feel they fought together and somehow survived, there’s a definite sense of respect.
“A ‘band of brothers’ is formed where everyone knows how hard the decathlon is and what sacrifices they have made to be able to participate in such a difficult competition.
“It’s a beautiful feeling, let it continue.
“All these athletes are incredible, they put on a great show.”
