June 2003
As most sport-crazy 9 – 90 year-old boys do, I began reading my copy of the Mail on Sunday from the last page to the first. But on this particular day, my eyes were strangely captivated by the side column rather than the main headline. “World’s Fastest Couple give birth to baby boy”. This was of course in reference to the birth of 100m world-record holder Tim Montgomery and 5-time Olympic medallist Marion Jones’ child.
To my shame, for the briefest millisecond I switched places with that child. My surname was Montgomery. I could run sub-10 seconds at a sub-10 age. More simply put, I was the fastest kid on the planet.
Fast Forward…
To this day, there are very few things which come close to the anticipation of a 100m final. There is a special aura of supremacy that the winner possesses, unique from all other sports. Therefore, when the news broke that both Montgomery and Jones were found guilty of using banned substances and sent to jail…everything stopped.
My heartbeat included.
How could they betray me like this?! After all of the denials?! The perfect family image?! I felt robbed…
Evidently, this is still a sore spot for me.
But all jokes aside, my story shares commonalities with many people who view athletes as a source of inspiration. Unfortunately, for a long period of time, doping has been inflicting substantial damage on the reputation of this great sport.
The question is whether track & field’s scattered pieces can be stitched back together…
On the eve of the World Championships, the impeccably-timed revelations from German broadcaster ARD rocked athletics. A secret database revealed that 146 medallists from World Championships & Olympic Games between 2001-12, reported suspicious drugs tests to the IAAF – the leading governing body of Athletics. In such circumstances, one has to wonder whose integrity should be placed under greater scrutiny. The over-zealous athletes in pursuit of medals rather than morals, or the inactive IAAF officials, perhaps too preoccupied with soliciting millions of sponsorship funds to investigate the matter further. Every facet of the sport was under the unforgiving eyes of the viewing public. With its back against the wall, athletics was a damsel in distress desperately in need of a saviour.
Step forward three heroes, each providing their own fairy-tale ending. Jessica Ennis-Hill, the modern-day superwoman, winning gold only 13 months after giving birth. Mo Farah – a man guilty by association, emerging victorious after the legitimacy of his career was plagued by heavy media suspicion. And lastly, Usain Bolt – saving the ‘soul of athletics’ by 0.01 seconds against the pantomime villain Justin Gatlin. Surely this was enough to keep the critics at bay? In some quarters of the sport, this merely papered over the cracks of a deeply flawed system…
There is an overwhelming sentiment within athletics that clean athletes are penalised for their honesty. For clean competitors at national trials and major championships, the anguish of finishing behind a cheating athlete is devastating. A devastation ripping through not only their hopes and dreams, but often leaving their bank balances unaltered. Funds are frequently allocated on the basis of performance, meaning that honest athletes can be marginalized by the receipt of meagre sponsorship funds and prize money. Although cheated athletes, such as Britain’s Jenny Meadows, can belatedly receive a posted medal after cheating revelations emerge, there is no receipt of a large sponsorship bonus based on a podium finish. These contracts often expire, along with any hope for fair financial remuneration.
With these financial obstacles rife in the sport, it is difficult for athletes to maintain a sense of integrity. The salary of an average athlete is incomparable to that of a footballer or NBA basketball player. It is a sport in which participants endure excruciating annual training regimes to savour a brief but iconic moment. If there is a perception that one must compromise their values for this dream, what true appeal remains within the profession? Equally, with children and parents already enamoured by the live coverage and higher salaries of more popular sports such as football, the sustainability of athletics could be under serious threat if such practices persist.
In the high court of mainstream media, the IAAF has been fairly charged with multiple counts of negligence. However, there has been no retribution for their accomplice – national governing bodies. To the credit of the UK, it has dealt firmly with cheating stars such as Dwain Chambers. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for other nations. 415 and 77 cases from the reported 800 were from Russia and Kenya respectively. These are both nations synonymous with large-scale doping scandals in recent decades. With the latest controversy only boosting their notoriety, the growing debate is whether these governing bodies lack either the competency or compliance to help the IAAF enforce clean competition.
These weak links within the sport’s decentralized structure have left it vulnerable to public disgrace. With worried sponsors creeping out of the proverbial back door, athletics is struggling for the finances to kick its drug habit. The IAAF reported a turnover of $60mn in 2014, with reserves of $74mn. More than enough for a few more lab coats surely? According to studies, it would cost approximately $29,000 (by today’s exchange rates) to effectively test a single athlete. A total of 1936 athletes competed at the World Championships in Beijing this year. We must also consider the thousands of athletes that did not make it to Beijing. If it’s current fortunes persist, the sport could find itself in a catch 22 of a lack of funding due to its reputation and the financial deficiency to fix this.
But alas, haven’t noble patrons of the sport such as Mo Farah and Robert Harting restored the sport’s credibility by releasing their test data? Think again. The majority of the released data has been based on the blood passport which reveals whether there is a use of oxygen transport mechanisms such as erythropoiesis-stimulating agents (ESAs) or even anabolic agents, such as selective androgen receptor modulators (SARMS). In other words, it’s too complex and misleading for the average member of the public. For example, Robert Harting’s data revealed a graph with just one dot. One dot. Although transparency is needed at this time, athletes are releasing tests for substances which wouldn’t have a beneficial effect on their performance. Would a discus thrower take substances which boost stamina in a strength-based event? Ironically, the blood passport is not even a test which determines if athletes are guilty or innocent. It merely highlights areas which need more testing. There is no point in presenting documentation to a group of people who cannot understand it. If athletics is looking to restore it’s credibility, it should not be through athletes resorting to such means to defend themselves. It should be through hard-earned, systemic changes in doping procedures.
Athletics is an addict with an internal battle at every level of it’s anatomy. The athlete who must decide to trust in their natural abilities or their doctor’s credentials to turn innocent dreams into a reality. The country blinded by ambitions of national pride at the expense of enforcing stringent discipline on its representatives. And lastly the IAAF, which must juggle it’s anxiety over public perception with transparent handling of the doping issue. The sport is fiendishly hungry for glory and public adulation at each level. This end goal is not inherently bad, but the means of substance abuse is leading the sport into cardiac arrest. Nonetheless, there is hope. Track & Field is frantically itching for change and rehabilitation could come in the form of new IAAF President Sebastian Coe. As a famed protagonist of clean competition, his ‘declaration of war’ against doping adds some much-needed assurance into the sport. However, his plans need to be followed with serious action at an athlete, national and international plateau. With positive talk of an independent doping agency, let’s hope Coe can be the catalyst which brings change for the most important addicts – the fans.
