Hayes Wins Olympic Marathon. Italian marathon runner Dorando Pietri became one of the most famous Olympic athletes in 1908 for the manner in which he lost the marathon event. British writer Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries, described Pietri's final few agonizing yards in this account. American runner John Hayes, who crossed the finish line second, was awarded the gold medal. . Pietri Staggers, Hayes Wins Mystery writer and journalist Sir Arthur Conan Doyle described the moment: "There is a groan as he falls again," Doyle wrote, "a cheer as he restaggers to his feet. It is horrible, yet fascinating, this struggle between a set purpose and an utterly exhausted frame. Surely he is done now; he cannot rise again.... He staggers up, no trace of intelligence on his set face, and again the red legs break into their strange automatic amble." What Doyle and 80,000 others witnessed at Shepherd's Bush Stadium in London, England, in 1908 would go down as one of the most dramatic track-and-field moments in Olympic history. So wrenching was Italian Dorando Pietri's struggle to finish the marathon that it conjured comparisons to the historical event that originally inspired the race. According to legend, in 490 BC an Athenian soldier ran some 42 km (26 mi) to announce the victory of Athens over the Persians on the plains of Marathon. After shouting "Victory!" he collapsed and died. Fearing Pietri might suffer that same fate, a group of Olympic officials, doctors, and spectators half carried, half dragged the delirious 22-year-old Italian across the finish line. The intervention, however well-intentioned, disqualified Pietri from the race. Less than a minute later, a 19-year-old department store clerk from New York City named John J. Hayes finished the race. After several hours of vigorous debate, officials declared Hayes the winner. Pietri became the most celebrated loser in Olympic history. As painful as it was for Pietri to keep his limp body upright, the heart-rending scene was nearly as excruciating to watch. Editorial writers at the New York Daily News were not alone in suggesting that the marathon be banned: "Nothing more painful or deplorable was ever seen at a public spectacle. It was painful in the exhibition of human exhaustion; deplorable in the exhibition of official folly. It may be questioned whether so great a trial of human endurance should be sanctioned." Neither Hayes nor Pietri were expected to win. Pietri, a confectioner from the island of Capri and the reigning Paris Marathon champion, was his country's top longdistance runner. He trained alone, however, and was not considered a serious threat to win at the Olympics. Although a lifelong cross-country runner, Hayes did not run in a marathon until 1906. Training mostly at night, he spent his days as a superintendent's assistant at Bloomingdale's. The 1908 Olympic marathon began on the private lawn of Windsor Castle, witnessed by King Edward VII and Queen Alexandra. The relatively level course wound through the towns of Slough, Harrow, and finally along cowpaths through a rural area known as Wormwood Scrubs on its way into London. The finish line at Shepherd's Bush Stadium in London's White City neighborhood was 42.6 km (26 mi 385 yards) away. The distance became the standard for all future marathons. On July 24, 75 men in shorts and T-shirts assembled at Windsor Castle for the start of the marathon. From the pack, three English runners surged to the front, only to drop out of the race by the 24th kilometer (15th mile). By the 31st kilometer (19th mile) Pietri had assumed the lead, followed by South Africa's Charles Hefferon and then Hayes. Pietri and Hefferon, however, were limping badly, giving hope to the still-fresh Hayes. The American finally surpassed Hefferon, but Pietri, to Hayes's surprise, held fast. "I admit that I expected him to drop out long before he did," Hayes later wrote of Pietri. "I did not give him credit for the great determination which drove his body forward over the course after his muscles and nerves were on the very point of giving way. The fact that he did keep on worried me greatly as we neared the end of the course. He had gone so far after I had made up my mind he would drop that I began to think I might be mistaken altogether." "The runners are in sight!" a public-address announcer blared as the competitors approached Shepard's Bush Stadium. Soldiers let loose a gun salute. The crowd grew still. Ten minutes of anticipation ended when Pietri staggered under an archway into the huge bowl. Silence gave way to deafening cheers. "I felt all right until I entered the stadium," Pietri told the New York Times after the race. "When I heard the people cheering and knew I had nearly won, a thrill passed through me and I felt my strength going." Visibly confused, Pietri stood for a moment before making a wrong turn--heading left instead of following a red cord to the right. Officials tried to redirect the delirious runner, but only after several attempts did he correctly change his course. "He staggered along the cinder path like a man in a dream," the New York Times reported, "his gait being neither a walk nor a run, but simply a flounder, with arms shaking and legs tottering." Pietri fell four times in the final 300 meters. Even when he was on his feet, his chin drooped onto his chest. With Pietri a mere 100 meters from the end, Hayes entered the stadium. Hefferon and Hayes's teammates Joseph Forshaw and A. R. Welton were not far behind. Overcome with sympathy, people along the track came to Pietri's aid. They poured liquids down his throat. They helped him to his feet time and time again, only to have him collapse in a heap. "By devious ways he went on," the New York Times wrote. "People had lost thought of his nationality and partisanship was forgotten." With one man behind him and another holding his arm, Pietri was shoved through the tape. He collapsed and was quickly carried off the field on a stretcher. Less than a minute later Hayes crossed the finish line, looking remarkably fresh--particularly in comparison to Pietri. The American delegation protested Pietri's victory and, after three hours of heated discussion, Pietri was disqualified from the race. Hayes was declared the winner. Despite his disqualification, Pietri was a hero. Queen Alexandra presented him with a golden cup. At Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's behest, a collection was taken to buy Pietri a remembrance of the race. American composer Irving Berlin penned a song, "Dorando, Dorando, Dorando." Pietri insisted that he could have completed the race under his own power. "I never lost consciousness of what was going on," he told the New York Times after the race, still almost too weak to talk, "and if the doctor had not ordered the attendants to pick me up, I believe I could have finished unaided." Hayes's winning time was 2 hours 55 minutes 18 seconds. He returned to Bloomingdale's to a promotion to sporting goods manager and a reception in his honor. Hefferon, the marathon's oldest entrant at 34, finished 51 seconds behind Hayes to earn the silver medal. Forshaw got the bronze, while Welton placed fourth. Of the 75 runners who started the race, only 27 finished. The New York Times published Conan Doyle's moving description of Pietri's performance. "He has gone to the extreme of human endurance," Doyle wrote. "No Roman of prime ever bore himself better; the great breed is not yet extinct." Microsoft ® Encarta ® 2009. © 1993-2008 Microsoft Corporation. All rights reserved.
