A Warsaw Pact Picnic

By Stephen Smith

Eastern Europeans prevail in the Games, but Britannia makes waves

When the 22nd Olympiad closed Sunday, much of the world sighed with relief. The host Soviets had been afraid everything would go wrong. The boycotting Americans had feared everything would go right. And the rest of the free world fretted about whether they should have participated or stayed at home. The oldtime innocence was gone; politics had once again impinged on sport.

The absence of so many world-class athletes made for a pleasing unpredictability in Moscow. A judo competitor from the tiny Republic of San Marino (pop. 20,000) admitted: "It isn't the same without the Japanese. Even I have a chance here now." At the same time, the Games produced three dozen world records, the same number as in 1976, and some moments of high drama.

The highest came in the long-awaited confrontations between Britain's middle-distance marvels, Sebastian Coe, 23, and Steve Ovett, 24. When they first squared off in the 800 meters at the end of the opening week, Coe let his countryman build an insurmountable lead, then misjudged his kick. Said he: "I blew it in the backstretch." He was determined not to make the same mistake in last Friday's 1,500. The first two laps were leisurely, with Coe and Ovett a few yards off the lead in third and fourth places. Then East Germany's Jurgen Straub, 26, spurted in front, and the quarter-mile pace quickened from 63 sec. to 55, just the way Coe likes it. He hit the accelerator in the backstretch and roared past Straub into the lead. Ovett gave chase but could not even catch the East German. Coe's winning time was a slow 3:38.4, more than six seconds behind the world record he shares with Ovett. "I did it the way I planned," said Coe. "Once I got into the rhythm of it, I felt I could do it."

After crossing the finish line, Coe knelt and covered his face. Then, quite against Olympic rules, he took a victory lap. His rival gave him a hug at the end, and Coe was like a child, bouncing on his toes and grinning. During the awards ceremonies, the British fans ignored the Olympic hymn that was being played. Instead, they belted out a chorus of God Save the Queen, with Rule Britannia as an encore.

Britannia did not exactly rule the Olympics, but she did score impressively in important track events. In addition to the gold earned by Coe and Ovett, Britain's Allan Wells won the 100-meter dash and Daley Thompson took the decathlon. With 36 nations heeding President Carter's call for a boycott over the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, there was little else for the West to cheer about. Pietro Mennea, a flamboyant Italian, finished first in the 200-meter run, and Ethiopian Miruts Yifter, listed as 35 but rumored to be in his 40s, captured the 5,000 and 10,000.

Otherwise the XXII Olympiad was a picnic for Warsaw Pact countries. The Soviets alone won some 30% of the total medals and 40% of the golds; the East Germans took about 20% of each. East-bloc nations piled up more than three quarters of the medals awarded. But many of the medals were tarnished by the absence of leading Western competitors.

Most of the visitors were from Eastern Europe as well. Of the 300,000 tourists originally expected by Moscow, only about 150,000 eventually showed up, and of these only a smattering were Westerners--8,000 Finns, 7,000 West Germans, 1,500 Americans and a few hundred Britons.

The cancellations proved a boon for ordinary Soviets, who got the unused tickets. They were as boisterous as old Brooklyn Dodger fans, though relying on ear-splitting whistles instead of clanging cowbells. Countrymen were cheered lustily, as long as they were winning, and foreign rivals were jeered, with gusto. The racket was deafening for visiting pole vaulters, who are accustomed to the polite silence accorded a golfer bending over his putt. Wladislaw Kozakiewicz of Poland finally shut up the unruly crowds with a world record (18 ft. 11 1/2in.), then defiantly shook his arm at them. Said he: "The public was very bad. It was like boxing."

Charges that the host country was cheating marred the second week of competition. After a Soviet won the triple jump, Australian Ian Campbell, 23, a senior at Washington State University, complained bitterly that the home judges had robbed him of a jump that would have been good enough for the gold. "They said I fouled by dragging my right foot at the end of the step," he recounted. "When I demanded an English interpreter and appealed for the track referee, the judge just shrugged and had the area raked. I am sick over it!" All told, Campbell and Brazilian Joao de Oliveira, 26, the Soviets' other main challenger, were called for fouls on nine of their twelve jumps.

The Soviets evidently tried to flimflam the pole vault as well, though to little avail. According to Western vaulters, Soviet judges improperly raised their flags to help countrymen gauge the wind. Adriaan Paulen, president of the International Amateur Athletic Federation (IAAF) detected some hanky-panky in this one, not by the officials but by a Soviet vaulter, who was evicted for giving hand signals to a teammate. Groused Swedish Vaulter Miro Zalar, 23: "Everybody knows they are cheating."

The disputes might have been headed off had the IAAF followed usual protocol and posted red-jacketed representatives at each field event. But the Soviets asserted that their judges would be intimidated, and they persuaded Paulen to keep IAAF supervisors in the stands. At midweek, as the chorus of protests rose, Paulen was forced to reverse himself and sent his men back on the field "to protect the judges from ugly rumors." Said he: "We are still very happy with the quality of the judging."

The athletes also raised a little hell back at the Olympic Village, where Orwellian security measures were putting everyone on edge. Frustrations finally boiled over one night at the village discotheque, where several dozen Western athletes protested the customary 11 o'clock closing. As disco infernos go, it was pretty mild stuff: some boozy scuffling with Soviet police, a lot of hollering, a small-scale food fight. But Soviet officialdom took it very seriously, as a headline from TASS, the state news agency, made clear: THEY SHOULD BE THROWN BEHIND BARS.

The next night, the doors leading from the disco to the bar were locked tight; thirsty dancers had to go downstairs, outside, upstairs again and then past six security guards. When a dozen Australians were turned away without explanation, one of them delivered a line that seemed to capture the Games perfectly: "I think we've got another case of the nyets, mates."

The 10,000 meters was an intricately plotted race starring two of the world's best-known distance runners: Yifter, who missed the 1976 Games because of the African boycott, and Lasse Viren, 31, of Finland, winner of both the 5,000 and 10,000 in 1972 and 1976. Yifter, as it turned out, had a better supporting cast.

The bantam-size African (5 ft. 4 in., 117 Ibs.) and two teammates ran in alternating spurts to weary the bearded Finn. Said Viren: "The Ethiopians broke the pace, continuously changing the lead, stopping and then pushing harder again to crack our nerves." By the final backstretch, Viren was spent. His rival, known as "Yifter the Shifter" for his overdrive kicks, sprinted home. Yifter's time was 20 sec. slower than the world record, but this was of no consequence to the jubilant Ethiopians, who danced and sang in the stands afterward. "We are running for medals," exulted Yifter.

The Ethiopian rabbits made more mischief in the 5,000, taking runs at anyone with the temerity to challenge their flagship. The most elegant Alphonse and Gaston routine took place on the final backstretch when Ethiopian Mohammad Kedir, then second behind Kaarlo Maaninka of Finland, swerved to the outside so that the Shifter could rocket through for his second gold. Poor Kedir got tangled up with the pack, lost a shoe and finished dead last.

In the marathon, Waldemar Cierpinski, 29, of East Germany became the first runner to repeat as champion since Abebe Bikila of Ethiopia accomplished the feat in 1960 and 1964. In the 3,000-meter steeplechase, Bronislaw Malinowski, 29, of Poland finally finished on top after coming in fourth at Munich, second at Montreal. Filbert Bayi, 27, a Tanzanian miler running only the sixth steeplechase of his career, appeared to have the race in hand, leading by as much as 50 meters. But Malinowski mounted a stirring comeback and overtook Bayi with about 150 meters remaining. His time was 8:09.7, the fastest in the world this year and only 4.3 sec. behind Kenyan Henry Rono's alltime best. "I have been waiting for this gold medal for 13 years," declared Malinowski. "Now my only goal is to establish a world record."

The 400 meters was won by Soviet Victor Markin, 23, in 44.60, the fastest time recorded in the event in two years. Finishing a game but distant fourth was Alberto Juantorena, 29, called El Caballo (the Horse) in 1976 when he breezed to victories in the 400 and 800. This time, the Cuban was off his form, still suffering the effects of Achilles' tendon surgery last fall. He was a scratch in the 800.

Mennea, 28, became the first Italian runner to win a gold medal in track and field since 1960 when he finished first in the 200-meter dash. Disgusted by the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, he agonized for months over whether to go to Moscow--and continued to agonize once he arrived. Said'he: "The pressure of being the favorite with no Americans here, and the bitterness of the boycott ... cracked my nerves." On the track he had to worry about Wells, 28, a Scotsman. "I knew from the semifinals of the 100 that he was two meters faster at 100, so I must catch him gradually," said Mennea. That he did, in the relatively slow time of 20.19, nearly half a second off his own world record.

A three-way battle for the gold in the high jump pushed an East German to a new world record. Gerd Wessing, 21, cleared 7 ft. 8 3/4 in. on his second attempt, breaking the old mark by a quarter inch. Another East German, Lutz Dombrowski, 21, became only the second man ever to exceed 28 ft. in the long jump, but his 28 ft. 1/4 in. fell more than a foot short of the record set in 1968 by American Bob Beamon.

With the U.S. men at home, the basketball title figured to be a cinch for the Soviet team, dubbed "the U.C.L.A. of the East." The Soviets had broken the U.S. hoop monopoly with a last-second goal in Munich and, though upset by Yugoslavia in Montreal (where the U.S recaptured the gold), were as imposing as oaks--and just as fast. The fleet-footed Italians, running and gunning like outlaws in a spaghetti western, left the hulking Soviets wounded, 87-85.

Next to out-finesse the Soviets were the Yugoslavs, who humbled them in overtime, 101-91. "The Russians can't handle the pressure," gloated Yugoslav Center Kresimir Cosic, 31, who starred at Brigham Young University in the early '70s. "They panic when it gets tough."

Coach Ranko Zeravica threw down the gauntlet after his Yugoslav deadeyes trounced Italy, 86-77, for the gold medal. Said he: "The question of who is best--the Yugoslavs or the U.S.--is being disputed, so we must meet and find out." But the U.S. Amateur Basketball Association said a showdown was not likely. Admitted Cosic: "We play better against the Russians. The Americans--they kill us."

The sleek Cuban boxing machine, Teofilo Stevenson, 29, won his third straight heavyweight boxing championship--although for the first time in his Olympic career, two opponents actually lasted the full three rounds. In the finals Pyotr Zayev, a stocky (5 ft. 10 in., 191 Ibs.) Soviet, even had the audacity to hit the towering (6 ft. 4 in., 220 Ibs.) Stevenson a few times before the inevitable loss.

As the second week of competition began, some 380 U.S. Olympians traveled to Washington to enjoy a five-day, $950,000 tribute sponsored by the U.S. Olympic Committee. Some of the athletes had contemplated staying away to protest the boycott, but in the end more than 90% of those who were free showed up. Dressed in their best cowboy outfits (the official U.S. Olympic uniform: denim pants and skirts, plaid shirts, rawhide boots and white western hats), the athletes received gold-plated congressional medals on the west terrace of the Capitol. There, President Carter told them: "It is no exaggeration to say that you have done more to uphold the Olympic ideal than any other group of athletes in our history."

The President's speech was received as coolly as his boycott. But none of the athletes disrupted the proceedings with demonstrations, as rumor suggested they might. Almost to a person, they seemed genuinely touched by the Olympic Committee's efforts to recognize them -- and to lift their spirits. Renaldo Nehemiah, 21, the splendid sprinter from Scotch Plains, N.J., spoke for most everyone when he said: "With the people's appreciation, it's not a total loss for us."

Some top U.S. competitors missed the show: 900 swimmers were in Irvine, Calif., participating in their own Olympics, the U.S. National Championships. They were racing against each other but even more against the clock, which flashed their own times alongside those of the previous week's winners in Moscow. Said Mike Bruner, 24, the 1976 gold medalist in the 200-meter butterfly: "It will make me happy if our swimmers blow away the Olympic times, especially the Russians."

Frequently they did. Moscow marks were bettered in eight of the first 17 Olympic-distance events. Mary T. Meagher, 15, of Louisville, and Craig Beardsley, 19, of Harrington Park, N.J., set world records in the women's and men's 200-meter butterfly. In the men's 200 butterfly, the three top finishers all came in faster than Soviet Sergei Fesenko did in winning the gold medal. In both the 200 backstroke and 100 breaststroke, two Americans finished under the Moscow times. The performances were remark able considering that many of the swimmers eased up on their training when the boycott was announced. Jesse Vassallo, 18, of Mission Viejo, Calif, quit altogether for six weeks but managed to outclock his Moscow counterpart in the 400 individual medley.

Even before the 1980 Olympics ended, the 1984 Games were causing controversy. Under strong U.S. pressure, the International Olympic Committee last week finally abandoned its plan to raise the American flag and play The Star-Spangled Banner at Sunday's closing ceremony. Instead the flag of the 1984 host city, Los Angeles, was substituted.

That flap was inconsequential to the U.S. athletes. What mattered to them was that another Olympics is coming and that so far no one is planning to boycott. For some competitors the loss of the 1980 Games is irreversible; they will retire to pursue other interests. But many of the champs are already California dreamin' . --

By Stephen Smith. Reported by Bruce Nelan and Phillips/ Moscow

With reporting by Bruce Nelan, B.J. Phillips/Moscow

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