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Inside Report: Olympics
On the field and in a sizzling new calendar, high jumper Amy Acuff is using her attire -- or lack of it -- to attract attention to her sport. And it's working
By Tim Layden
 Acuff is attracting attention to her sport. |
Following the path that the late Florence Griffith Joyner walked more than a decade earlier, Acuff sought a persona through fashion. She competed at last February's Millrose Games wearing a halter top made of fur. At the May 30 Prefontaine Classic she wore a flesh-colored uniform that, from a distance, looked simply like flesh. Both ensembles had roughly the same effect on photographers as Prince William's smile.
"We go out and compete wearing the exact same uniform as 50 other athletes," says Acuff. "Ask any woman if she wants to go out wearing the same thing as 50 other women." Two of Acuff's outfits, including the one worn at the Prefontaine Classic, were made for her by designer Anne Klein, whom she met while modeling part-time in Los Angeles, where Acuff lives. "I think of what I'm doing as entertainment," says Acuff. "Hopefully it opens people's eyes to something different."
If the outfits don't, Acuff's calendar will. Last April, Acuff gathered 11 other female track athletes in a Hollywood studio, where most posed nude, some in body paint, for a year 2000 calendar. Like soccer player Brandi Chastain's nude layout in Gear, Acuff's calendar fit neatly into a debate on whether such photos celebrate or exploit.
"Too many people hold fast to the old image of female jocks," says Acuff. "They have a problem with seeing female athletes as feminine and beautiful. Something unique has to be done to bring the public to the table. After that, they can see what great athletes we are." Acuff's calendar sells for $18, with half the proceeds going to the Florence Griffith Joyner Community Empowerment Foundation. Remaining profits are divided among the athletes.
Flashy outfits and calendars, of course, will carry Acuff's star only briefly. Beyond that, she must perform. A distant relative of the late country singer Roy Acuff, Amy was a high-jumping prodigy at Calallen High in Corpus Christi, Texas, who won two NCAA outdoor titles and two national titles while at UCLA. Her personal best of 6' 6 3/4" was set in 1997, and she has spent most of the last two years chasing 28-year-old Tisha Waller, who has jumped 6' 7" and is in Acuff's calendar. "I'm still a beginner in track and field," Acuff says. "I plan to be the first woman to jump seven feet [the world record is 6' 10 1/4", by Stefka Kostadinova of Bulgaria]. I have lots of athletic goals."
She should keep those goals in mind. Even Flo-Jo is remembered best for gold, not lace.
 Terry (with flowers) reigned in Spain. |
Terry grew up in inner-city San Diego and began swimming when she was eight. "My mom had to drag me out of the water," she says. By the time she was a senior at University of San Diego High School in 1991, Terry had achieved eight All-America-level times and had been the junior national champion in the 50- and 200-meter freestyle. She decided to delay entering college to take aim at making the '92 Olympics.
Terry's first stop was the Mission Viejo Swim Team. Living away from home for the first time, she became depressed. Then one day, she found the n word scrawled on her car. "I never had the time or energy before to think about being black," says Terry, whose parents (her mom, Debra, is white and her dad, Willie, is black) divorced when she was a baby, "but it became an issue." Three months later, Terry was back home with her mom.
In the fall of 1992, Terry headed to Tennessee on a full scholarship. "I really thought things would turn around for me there," she says. "It's a great place to go to school if you're an athlete because the community's so supportive. But for me, well, it just didn't happen."
Things spiraled downward rapidly for Terry. She became pregnant, got an abortion, was kicked off the swim team (in early 1993), quit school and moved back home. "I didn't have anything good going on in my life and woke up crying day after day," she says. "I started smoking and drinking and got into a bad relationship." She also tried to commit suicide.
But one good thing was going on in this period: Terry was beginning to think about her African-American heritage. That, she says, changed how she felt about herself. "I had started reading about my ancestors, who I had never learned about or studied in school," she says. "I realized that what I was going through was not even close to the suffering that they went through every day. The more I learned about them, the more my role in society became clear to me. When I asked myself what I could do, I decided to volunteer to coach. That's how I started back." Her first step was as a volunteer coach with the boys' swim team at Clairmont High in San Diego, in '97. The next year she became the team's head coach.
Terry missed the '92 and '96 Olympics; but she doesn't intend to miss Sydney in 2000. At the World University Games, in Mallorca, Spain, she was in tears accepting her gold medal. "I got so emotional because I remembered how sad and how close to death I was at one time," she says. "I was so happy I made the changes that I did. I thanked my ancestors and hoped that they were watching."
-- Paula Hunt
Inside Olympics archive
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