reruns of the race that were being telecast on television. It was a new experience to watch myself run as well as observe the audience’s reaction to my win. I was deeply gratified by the accolades I had received.
When I returned to Aldershot, my team members were elated by my victory and were convinced that I would have the same success in Rome.
Rome, the Eternal City, looked very festive when the Indian contingent, led by Ashwini Kumar, landed at the airport. Milling crowds filled streets lined with flags and banners. As we drove through this historic city towards the Olympic Village, we were infected by the excitement around us. This time, I was privileged enough to be given a separate room so that I would not be disturbed by too many visitors.
Rome in August is hot, almost like India. On the opening day the temperatures had risen to above 40 degrees Celsius and it was extremely uncomfortable. Yet, the crowds were not daunted by the weather and filled the stands by the thousands, carrying red and black umbrellas as protection against the sun. The mammoth stadium, Stadio Olimpica, had been recently renovated and looked very impressive. The opening ceremony was spectacular. The military bands played the Italian national anthem and marches from operas, including Bellini’s Norma and Verdi’s Ernani , as the smartly dressed contingents from all over the world saluted the president of Italy, Giovanni Gronchi, when they briskly marched past his box. And as the Olympic flag was being raised, a choir sang the anthem of the Games with great emotion.
Athletes from almost a hundred and fifty nations were participating in the 400-metre race. I won round after round in every heat until I reached the semi-finals. By now only twelve of us remained, but in this race the number would be further reduced to the top six. The semi-finals took place and I was through to the final.
Over the years, I had, through continuous hard work and an intense practice schedule, built up my stamina to such a high level that I could compete in and often win two races each day, even in global competitions. Sadly, this ability was of little consequence in Rome, mainly because of the curious two-night gap between the semis and the finals. As a result I had more time to think and brood. I was so nervous and tense that I spent two sleepless nights before the finals. The night before, I kept thinking about the race and that put me under a lot of pressure. I was extremely tense and paced the floor in agitation, wondering what the next day would have in store for me. Then there was a knock on my door. It was Mr Umrao Singh, our manager, who came in and whisked me off for a long walk. As we wandered through the cobbled streets, past noble edifices, fountains and archways, he tried to distract me from the forthcoming contest by talking about the Punjab and telling me stirring stories of the Sikh Gurus and other valiant heroes. We walked and talked, and for a while I was at peace.
Early next morning, I returned to the stadium and joined the other participants at the starting line. It was at the moment when the lanes were being allocated that everything went wrong. Carl Kaufmann was in the first lane, the American Ottis Davis in the second, while the third one went to a participant from Poland and the fourth to my old Commonwealth Games’ rival, Malcolm Spence. I had the misfortune to be given the fifth lane next to a German athlete, who was the weakest of the six of us. This was a huge blow to me because the German was the only runner in my line of vision. With nothing but negative thoughts running through my mind, I took my standing position. When the starter shouted, ‘On your marks!’ I got down on my knees and offered a silent prayer to the ground beneath me, ‘Oh, Mother Earth, you have bestowed many favours on me. I pray that you will do the same today.’ I bowed my head and took a deep breath. The starter shouted ‘Set!’ and when he fired his gun
When I returned to Aldershot, my team members were elated by my victory and were convinced that I would have the same success in Rome.
Rome, the Eternal City, looked very festive when the Indian contingent, led by Ashwini Kumar, landed at the airport. Milling crowds filled streets lined with flags and banners. As we drove through this historic city towards the Olympic Village, we were infected by the excitement around us. This time, I was privileged enough to be given a separate room so that I would not be disturbed by too many visitors.
Rome in August is hot, almost like India. On the opening day the temperatures had risen to above 40 degrees Celsius and it was extremely uncomfortable. Yet, the crowds were not daunted by the weather and filled the stands by the thousands, carrying red and black umbrellas as protection against the sun. The mammoth stadium, Stadio Olimpica, had been recently renovated and looked very impressive. The opening ceremony was spectacular. The military bands played the Italian national anthem and marches from operas, including Bellini’s Norma and Verdi’s Ernani , as the smartly dressed contingents from all over the world saluted the president of Italy, Giovanni Gronchi, when they briskly marched past his box. And as the Olympic flag was being raised, a choir sang the anthem of the Games with great emotion.
Athletes from almost a hundred and fifty nations were participating in the 400-metre race. I won round after round in every heat until I reached the semi-finals. By now only twelve of us remained, but in this race the number would be further reduced to the top six. The semi-finals took place and I was through to the final.
Over the years, I had, through continuous hard work and an intense practice schedule, built up my stamina to such a high level that I could compete in and often win two races each day, even in global competitions. Sadly, this ability was of little consequence in Rome, mainly because of the curious two-night gap between the semis and the finals. As a result I had more time to think and brood. I was so nervous and tense that I spent two sleepless nights before the finals. The night before, I kept thinking about the race and that put me under a lot of pressure. I was extremely tense and paced the floor in agitation, wondering what the next day would have in store for me. Then there was a knock on my door. It was Mr Umrao Singh, our manager, who came in and whisked me off for a long walk. As we wandered through the cobbled streets, past noble edifices, fountains and archways, he tried to distract me from the forthcoming contest by talking about the Punjab and telling me stirring stories of the Sikh Gurus and other valiant heroes. We walked and talked, and for a while I was at peace.
Early next morning, I returned to the stadium and joined the other participants at the starting line. It was at the moment when the lanes were being allocated that everything went wrong. Carl Kaufmann was in the first lane, the American Ottis Davis in the second, while the third one went to a participant from Poland and the fourth to my old Commonwealth Games’ rival, Malcolm Spence. I had the misfortune to be given the fifth lane next to a German athlete, who was the weakest of the six of us. This was a huge blow to me because the German was the only runner in my line of vision. With nothing but negative thoughts running through my mind, I took my standing position. When the starter shouted, ‘On your marks!’ I got down on my knees and offered a silent prayer to the ground beneath me, ‘Oh, Mother Earth, you have bestowed many favours on me. I pray that you will do the same today.’ I bowed my head and took a deep breath. The starter shouted ‘Set!’ and when he fired his gun
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