Where Are America's Milers?

The most extraordinary thing about the once elusive four-minute mile in recent weeks has been the almost casual manner in which its latest conquerors have achieved it. Derek Ibbotson, the 23-year-old Yorkshireman shown above, made it three weeks ago as the consequence of a promise to a girl friend: a three-miler by trade, he entered the mile in the News of the World meet at London's White City Stadium in exchange for an extra ticket to the postmeet banquet that a girl friend of his girl friend's wanted to attend. And three-miler Ibbotson, with no more thought in the world about the race than that, suddenly found on the final lap that he could crack the magic barrier—and did. That same weekend, in distant Budapest, Istvan Rozsavolgyi broke the world record for 1,500 meters, the Olympic's "metric mile," with an amazing 3:40.6, a zestful 0.2 seconds faster than the prevailing world's record (which he had shared with fellow Hungarian Laszlo Tabori and Gunnar Nielsen, the redheaded Dane) and the equivalent of a 3:57 mile.

The second most extraordinary thing about these performances is that American milers are nowhere in them—nowhere near them, in fact. In all the growing family of four-minute milers pictured on these pages there is not a single U.S. runner, nor, now that Wes Santee has forcibly retired, a single man who has come even close. And for a nation with a track and field record as proud as that of the U.S., this is a most singular fact indeed. It is as certain as anything in sports at the moment that the United States will not win a single foot race of more than 800 meters in the Melbourne Olympics.

In every other respect the U.S. track and field team that goes to Australia in November may well be the strongest in history. It is several deep in crack sprinters, hurdlers, jumpers, pole vaulters, shotputters, discus and javelin throwers and middle distance runners—an impressive number of them already holding world records. And yet the discomfiting fact remains that in five of the 11 running events for men, the longer ones, Americans are entirely outclassed by foreign competitors.

Neither in the Olympic metric mile nor in any of the longer classics—5,000 and 10,000 meters, steeplechase and marathon—do the best of U.S. runners stand anything but the most wildly improbable chance of picking up a gold medal among them. Indeed, they may consider themselves lucky even to place or show in these events next autumn.

Such, at any rate, is the dismal outlook in the longer races as pre-Olympic training gets under way in earnest next month. Conceivably, things could change for the better in one or two events between now and November. But distance men rarely achieve greatness overnight; they normally require years of hard work and topflight competition to show any marked improvement. And it would take a heap of doing for any American Olympic runner to find within himself, in the few weeks remaining, the power to meet the amazing new standards set abroad in recent years, at just about every distance from 1,500 meters to the marathon, by an assortment of record-happy Russians, Britons, Hungarians, Finns, Australians and Poles.

THE BLUE RIBBON FIXTURE

Nowhere is this American weakness in longer events more apparent, or more galling, to track and field buffs than in the mile, the blue ribbon fixture on every meet program. The U.S. mile tradition is a proud one, made so by a succession of such stars as Bonthron, Cunningham, Fenske, Zamperini, San Romani, MacMitchell and Dodds. When Wes Santee breezed to the fore with repeated assaults on the four-minute barrier, his eventual triumph seemed only a matter of time, of meeting up with top foreign competition on a fast track. But that was not to be.

Santee's disbarment for expense account irregularities was a bitter blow that wrought immediate change in the American mile picture. This past season, with Santee sidelined and his shadow, Fred Dwyer, on sick report most of the time, the painful realization dawned on meet officials and fans alike that no home-grown successor was immediately available.

All that kept the winter indoor season from being completely ho-hum in the classic mile was the weekly presence of Ireland's Ron Delany, a fleet Dubliner camouflaged in Villanova colors. Delany proved so superior to the local talent that he could dally through most of any race and still win it handily with a last-lap kick. Once Delany did extend himself to 4:06.3 in taking the Hunter Mile, coming within 2.7 seconds of an indoor mile record (4:03.6) that is already obsolete by world outdoor standards. But he could also amble to victory in the hallowed Baxter Mile in a lackadaisical 4:14, as bored fans booed and tossed paper cups onto the Madison Square Garden track where faster miles were run a quarter century ago. And in June, in Compton, Calif., Delany showed what he really could do when he was pushed to the limit by Nielsen, beating him by one tenth of a second in 3:59.

In the outdoor season, the truth about American milers was driven home even more forcibly. Jim Bailey, an Australian running under Oregon colors, beat the legendary John Landy in 3:58.6 at Los Angeles. There wasn't an American runner in sight when that race was decided. The truth is that even the best of the U.S. milers have fallen several strides behind the best foreign competition. Even if Wes Santee had been reinstated in time for the Olympics, no fewer than eight foreign milers still in active competition have cracked the four-minute mile that has so long eluded Wes's best efforts.