Duel Of The Four-minute Men

Landy's time was 1:58 at the half. The groundwork for a four-minute mile had been laid. The field had faded far to the rear. The duelists ran alone in front with Landy still making the pace. But now, yard by yard, easily, almost imperceptibly, Bannister was regaining ground.

He was within striking distance as they fled into the last, decisive quarter amid a hysterical uproar of applause. Bannister stayed there on the turn. Two hundred yards from home, Landy made his bid for decision and victory. But Bannister refused to be shaken, and with 90 yards to go he lengthened his plunging stride. He came up shoulder to shoulder with Landy, fought for momentum, pulled away to a four-yard lead and ran steadily and stylishly through a deafening clamor to the tape. He fell, arms flapping, legs buckling, into the arms of the English team manager a split second after the race was done.

"I tried to pull away from him in the backstretch of the last lap." said Landy after he ceased to gasp for breath. "I had hoped that the pace would be so fast that he would crack at that point. He didn't. When you get a man in that sort of a situation and he doesn't crack, you do.

"From then on I knew it was only a question of time. I looked over my left shoulder to see where he was on the turn, and when I looked back, he was ahead of me."

Landy paused, grinned, shook his head and added: "I've had it."