Dawning Of A New Arra

Yet despite the firebrand talk, Rodgers was in the uncomfortable position of not being sure whether he should take whatever money he won in Portland, thinking the new pros were certain to be given harder treatment than the merely contaminated amateurs. "I'm embarrassed," he said, showing it. "I'm on the spot either way." In the end, wanting to protect his status as he faces the renewal of several endorsement contracts, Rodgers would be the only one of the top finishers to turn down his prize money. Alberto Salazar, the 1980 New York Marathon victor who wasn't running, understood Rodgers' position because his own was similar. "I can still make more as an 'amateur' than if I won all six of ARRA's races," he said.

On the other side was avowed-pro Tom Fleming, who had won $25,000 in the Jordache Los Angeles Pro-Am Marathon in March and was having a great time explaining the joys of professionalism. "I've been able to run amateur races because they can't suspend me without a hearing," he said, "and for some reason the hearing keeps getting postponed. Maybe it's because they know I'm going to bring along every reporter I know. But as a pro I make good money in endorsements without having to pay an extortionate fee to TAC for permission. And when I say I'm a professional road racer, people do a double take and look at me with respect. That's new."

Fleming felt the only danger for the athletes would be if they lost their unity. "The sponsors don't care about IAAF rules or the TAC," he said. "They care about having the best runners. That's us. We've got Ollan Cassell by the tender parts. If we all go different ways, we're not squeezing."

"Yet we don't need unanimity," said 1973 Boston Marathon winner Jon Anderson. "The point of ARRA is to create athletes' freedom. We need a show of strength, but not forced unity."

Allison Roe, this year's Boston Marathon women's champion, simply told her New Zealand Amateur Athletics Association where to get off. "I see it as a moral issue," she said. "We can go under the table for years, but it's not right. What we're doing is right."

Catalano considered the worst-case possibility—not being able to run in the inaugural women's Olympic marathon in Los Angeles in 1984. "That's just one race and it's too far down the road," she said. "This is now. What do I want to do, make a living at what I love or win a trinket?"

As it happened, Catalano learned racing for money will be no sure thing, as three tough New Zealanders, Anne Audain (50:32.8), Roe (50:57.9) and Lorraine Moller (51:24.2), put her into fourth place (51:55.5). "What will our federation do?" said Audain, whose $10,000 winner's share suddenly made life as a former schoolteacher somewhat more comfortable. "Maybe lobby for new rules because they've just lost their three best runners?"

The men's race turned into a four-way pitched battle. When Rodgers' 4:19 seventh mile shook him loose from no one, Lindsay went ahead, then Meyer. With 500 yards to go, Meyer sprinted, catching Lindsay off guard. Lindsay closed all down the stretch but fell 10 yards short. Meyer's time on the hilly course was a spectacular 43:18.9, more than 30 seconds better than Lindsay's course record. Lindsay finished in 43:23.5, Tibaduiza at 43:23.6, and Rodgers in 43:25.0, a personal best by nearly a minute. Fourteen men broke 45 minutes, an astounding depth of performance.

"The cause was right," panted Meyer, who accepted the $10,000 winner's check but probably will put it into escrow in hopes of maintaining his amateur standing. "I felt good the whole way, even about my decision at nine last night to take the money."

"What happens next?" he was asked.