Ronnie Delany heartily shook my hand and greeted me like an old friend when we met in Dublin back in October 2006 to discuss his book, ‘Staying The Distance’.
For an hour and a half, the 1956 Olympic 1500 metre champion held court and made for spellbinding company. This was an incredibly rare occasion in my life. I was genuinely star struck. “I’m interviewing Ronnie Delany,” I said to myself more than once on my commute from Waterford that morning. “Oh my God, I’m interviewing Ronnie Delany!”
Unlike the chart topper of decades ago who is now reduced to cruise crooning and supermarket openings, Delany’s finest achievement remains frozen in time for two reasons.
One: no track athlete in an Irish vest has stood atop the Olympic rostrum since. Two, and this is the more significant factor for me: there is a lasting permanence in gaining such a garland that few other titles bestow upon a victor in any other event.
When we met, Delany was impeccably dressed; his sports coat featuring a gold pin only bestowed upon Olympic champions. “I was in a lift in Athens during the (2004) Olympics and there were a few Japanese people in the lift who were devotees of the Games,” he told me.
“And then noticed that I’m wearing the pin – which I’m wearing here today – and it’s the gold medal winner’s pin…Well, they got very excited, but I’ve got no idea what they’re saying so I offer in response: ‘gold medal, gold medal.’ That’s part of the joy of the Olympics. And that’s why the story, boring though it may sound, is still the Olympic gold medal.”
The glory of Melbourne, while undoubtedly the high-water mark of Delany’s career, is far from the only story of his worth recalling. Interestingly, during our conversation, the man himself noted how little our time together had focused on his greatest metric mile.
What brought me down the route I opted for was driven by Tony O’Donoghue’s meticulous race-by-race appendix of Delany’s career, noting the 40 races the great man ran between March 1955 and March 1959 – 34 of which were over the mile distance. Delany won every single one of them.
“There’s nothing that even remotely compares to winning an Olympic title,” he told me. “It’s the ultimate achievement. It’s the life dream – it is the story really. My view on my career after that is that it’s a story worth telling as well. But I wouldn’t begin to compare both…
“But the indoor record is very special to me in that I was at my absolute peak in America because of that environment and it was very important to try and win every race because that was, in a way, my destiny. My destiny was to win the Olympics, my destiny indoors was to try and remain unbeaten.”
The dictaphone was whirring (yes, kids, we still used physical tapes then) while I remained silent for minutes at a time, a personal feat on my behalf as anyone who knows me will tell you. My most celebrated sporting interviewee was bringing me through some of his career highlights and at times I felt transfixed. Oh my God, I’m interviewing Ronny Delany!
“I ran in Philadelphia, Boston, New York, Chicago and Cleveland extensively and in travel terms it was very tiring. Now when it came to New York, they were never my favourite fans. I’d be lolling along the at the back of the field and suddenly something in my mind would have me thinking ‘I wonder could I feign a stitch, pull in on the side and pretend I’m badly injured and roll around.”
He continued: “This sort of incredible crazy thinking would go through my mind because the race was too comfortable, too easy. The other guys were running too slowly; I didn’t feel that there was any threat to me. I wasn’t worried about who was out in front. And all these mad thoughts would go on until, fortuitously, someone would give you a belt on the back and wake you up and I’d tell myself I’ve got to go after these guys!”
Running is, fundamentally, a solitary experience. Yes, high performance athletes may form part of training groups over the course of any given season but the great majority of the work is conducted on an individual basis. Ronnie Delany found it difficult to make friends in his adolescence. Bearing that in mind, running was a logical fit. It may even have assisted him in becoming a world class athlete.
“I think it’s something that’s in a lot of men. I don’t think men, and I can be corrected on this, make friends as easily as women do. I don’t think men need friends as much as women do in the sense that the man is, at least he was in the old model, the adventurer. Today, of course, the model has changed and I’d quickly add that I don’t want to be perceived in any way as sexist. But because of the things that I had to do which were singular things, singular decisions, I didn’t make friends easily. Now I’d loads of acquaintances, loads of pals, pals that I’d have to this day – but a friend whom I’d have contended with? No, I didn’t…
“In the book, I describe how singular I had to be. I had a vision. Any guys I’d ever mention it to who weren’t involved in athletics thought I was half mad! I suppose, in that sense, there is a steeliness about that isn’t perceptible in me, one to one. Sitting with you, I am articulate and sociable but inside me there is a steeliness and I can apply that when required – so beware, beware!”
His recollection of the 1956 Olympic Final in ‘Staying The Distance’ is told with crystal clarity. There’s no telling how many times he has re-run the race in his own mind over the decades. But to have him sat alongside me, detailing that final lap, was an absolute joy.
“In Melbourne, I began to run hard down the back straight, trailing (home favourite and world record holder John) Landy, who was running quite hard to keep himself in the lead. He was really pushing. Looking back, he was probably in the lead too early. I really didn’t kick until about 150 metres out. If you ever revisit the film of that race, the commentator says ‘watch Delany’. I wasn’t even moving at that stage. I was still only positioning myself for this one dynamic strike.”
In his memoir, Delany writes: “Within 10 yards I was in the lead and going away from the field. I knew nobody was going to pass me, for my legs were pumping like pistons, tired but not going to give in to anybody. My heart swelled with joy as I approached the tape 10 feet clear of the rest of the field, and I burst through I threw my arms wide in exultation. I could hardly believe I had won.”
The sensation of winning any race, at any level is utterly glorious and soul nourishing yet how that sensation applies when conquering the world is personally beyond the comprehension of most of us. Ronnie Delany wasn’t just born to run. He was born to win.
“I wanted to win. It was an uncomplicated proposition. You got into a foot race and you tried to win it. Now tactically in running, you’ve got to do it all yourself. No one can run a race for you, no one can tell you when to go, when to make that decisive move. If you don’t feel like going at a certain point, you don’t go. If you’re knackered, then you just can’t go.
“So, really, you become the racing machine. All the theory, all the conversation beforehand – that’s gone once you’re out there. You’re the one that’s going to have to take the decision. Jack Sweeney (a teacher of Delany’s) in particular talked about the theory of that one decisive move during the course of a race. I adopted that as my strategy and I was able to couple it with an extraordinary, explosive finish.”
When asked what advice would best serve a young athlete dreaming big, Ronnie Delany told me: “I’d tell them to focus on what the essence of running is, not to be rushed forward to beat a junior record or whatever. If you beat a record and you beat it coincidentally in the course of a race, what does it matter in terms of your development? You don’t want to be busting your gut every time you go out there. You bust your gut when you have to.”
As the interview drew to a close, I did something that supposedly reputable journalists rarely if ever do: I asked Ronnie Delany to sign my copy of ‘Staying The Distance’. He graciously did so and it remains one of the most treasured keepsakes of my career.
Never meet your heroes? What piffle. I’ll meet any of mine any chance I get and few come greater than our Melbourne Olympic hero. Oh my God, I interviewed Ronnie Delany! Thanks for the memories, champ.
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