Monday, Mar. 26, 1973

Run for the Money

As the house lights dim in the Los Angeles Memorial Sports Arena, Miler Marty Liquori, acting as M.C. and resplendent in his $250 tuxedo, will direct the crowd's attention to a spotlighted sprinter crouching in the blocks. "He is co-holder of the world 100-meter record, and has run the fastest 200 meters in history," Liquori will spiel. The runner tenses for an introductory dash down the board track. "Let's have a big welcome for--JOHN CARLOS!"

Thus, with a smell of the circus, professional track--a slickly packaged, hyped-up version of the oldest athletic show on earth--will officially vault into existence this Saturday night. Along with Olympian Carlos, the Big Show will feature Old Rivals Kip Keino and Jim Ryun competing in the mile, as well as Champion Shotputters Randy Matson and Brian Oldfield. Dallas Cowboys' Wide Receiver Bob Hayes, once known as the "fastest man on earth," will test his speed against Washington Redskin Defensive Back Clancy Williams in a 40-yd. sprint.

Ham It Up. The incentive, of course, is money, in a sport where champions have traditionally worked for glory rather than cash. The 54 men and women in the meet will compete as contract employees of the new International Track Association (I.T.A.). They will get $500 as first-prize money in their specialty at each meet. Bonus awards will go to athletes who tie ($100) or break ($500) a listed world record. The purses are modest by comparison with most pro-sport salaries. But if professional track catches on at the gate, there will be television rights, remunerative endorsements and a bigger pie for all.

Initially, the objective is to attract live crowds as proof of track's commercial appeal. To please fans, the I.T.A.'s eleven-page operations manual frankly encourages troupe members to ham it up: "Wave during introductions, smile, turn to all sides of the arena and acknowledge the applause. Many U.S. athletes act glum as if they are about to be shot in the next minute." Matson, the world record holder (71 ft. 5 1/2 in.) in the shotput, but a rather colorless performer, recognizes the problem. "If everyone was like me," he says, "nobody would come out and watch."

The 10,480 paying fans who came out to the Idaho State University "Mini-dome" in Pocatello recently for the I.T.A.'s single dress-rehearsal meet saw more than amateur theatrics. The abbreviated twelve-event format was, as the promoters put it, "sequentially choreographed," eliminating the usual clutter caused when two or three events are staged simultaneously. When Pole Vaulter Bob Seagren bounded his way to an easy victory over three opponents by reaching 17 ft. 6 in., the audience was not distracted by competition in the mile run. Another I.T.A. innovation was pacer lights; spaced every ten yards along the track, the lights told both the competitors and the crowd what pace the racers were maintaining. Running against the lights, Lee Evans broke Martin Bilham's indoor world record in the 600-meter run.

Records will not be recognized by international track authorities because the athletes are competing for money. But official approval matters little to the I.T.A.'s shrewd creator, Mike O'Hara. He plans a North American tour of 18 meets over three months, and he is interested in future gates rather than old statistics. He will even try gimmick events such as coed relays and celebrity races in each meet to supply a change of pace. "You've got to keep people jazzed," he says.

O'Hara, 40, is a former Olympic volleyball player (1964) and a veteran professional sport entrepreneur. He was a financial adviser and founder of both the American Basketball Association and the World Hockey Association, and briefly had franchises in each league. For the I.T.A., O'Hara invested $100,000 of his own and raised $250,000 more from promotion-minded backers, including a track-shoe manufacturer.

He thinks pro track is a natural attraction despite failures by previous promoters. "Other than soccer," he says, "track is the best-attended sport in the world. It's great to identify with. That's why Bob Richards lasted a million years. Ma and Pa don't want their kids to identify with Joe Namath. They prefer Jim Ryun." Perhaps. If O'Hara is right, Ryun and company may eventually give Broadway Joe a race in the run for the money.

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