Boston
Marathon 2001 * Michael A. Musca
"Let
me remind you, this is a working press room. Please do not applaud the
winner."
Huh?
Let's
start from the beginning*.
A
few weeks before the Boston Marathon, a doctor told me what I already knew * I
wouldn't be running the 2001 edition of the world's greatest marathon. Achilles
problems wouldn't mend. Time to regroup. I was offered an assignment to write
for Runner's World On-Line race coverage. I secured a media pass from the
Portland Press-Herald and mainetoday.com (Thanks John, Ed and Zach). Off to
Boston*
Saturday
* Media pass pick-up / Expo
Accompanied
by my son Andrew (8) and New England running legend Ken Mueller (waaay over 8),
we drove from our headquarters in Medway, MA into Boston. Picked up my media pass and an
all-encompassing BAA media guide at the designated hotel near Copley Square
(finish line area). We three warriors rode the Green line and Red line trains
to South Station and took the shuttle bus to the race Expo. This year's Expo
included the usual assortment of shoes, shirts, magazine companies, race
promoters, watches, sunglasses and funky body gels. In the center of the floor
stood BAA's outstanding collection of race memorabilia, featuring
first-woman-to-finish-Boston Bobbi Gibb's race gear * a pair of tattered beach
shorts and Danskin top. My son loved 90-year-old Johnny Miles' $.99 canvas
sneakers from a 1920s Boston victory that might as well have been pre-historic
in young Andrew's eyes.
Sunday
* Runner's World reception.
So
there I was, munching on a Peking duck pate and yakking with Frank Shorter as
though we were best buddies. Well, not quite. I introduced myself as, "the
kid who watched you in Munich on my rickety black and white t.v." and he
retorted that he was, "the kid who watched Bob Schul in Tokyo on
t.v." Okay running fans, name me another party where the introduced guests
are an Olympic gold medalist, three former Boston champions and the guy who
stared at me from a Sports Illustrated cover during high school (Frank Shorter,
Amby Burfoot, Jack Fultz Greg Meyer and Marty Liquori). I spent most of the
evening explaining to my wife, Kathleen, that I could die right now and I'd be
happy. RW's Amby Burfoot and Parker Morse explained that my race day assignment
would work out just fine. I was convinced they'd already hired someone else
"just in case the rookie blows it".
Monday
* This is a working press room*
Arrive
at Riverside park & ride station only to find the car lot is filled with
Red Sox fans. Alternate parking is 2 miles away with no shuttle back to the
train. Damn, this laptop is heavy. Take train to press room (Fairmont Hotel
grand ballroom) only to find Copley Station closed for race day. Damn. Schlepp
the laptop a few extra blocks. Arrive at press room with 15 minutes to race
start.
Two
big, big-screen televisions, a HUGE tote board with progressive 5K splits and
leader print-outs give the press every opportunity to cover the race in as much
or as little detail as desired. The BAA makes it easy for a newbie hack like
myself to fit in.
Set
up the laptop * oh shit! I forgot to switch the DVD plug-in and replace the
floppy drive. Mentally torture and mutilate myself for stupidity on first
big-time assignment. Fifteen minutes later the missing drive is found tucked in
laptop case. Cancel my execution. Watch race with enrapture. Run outside at the
finish and snap pictures of winner and other top finishers. (Hey, what about
New Hampshire school teacher Kevin Beck's top 30 finish in 2:24:25?)
For
those who didn't watch the race, it was a balls out effort by overall victor
Korea's Lee Bong-Ju (he dedicated the race to his recently deceased father). I
had the pleasure of being present in the interview room for the top finishers
and almost choked the idiot who asked 6th overall Rod DeHaven (USA)
"What's wrong with American running?" True to his gentle nature, Rod
replied that 6th overall and a PR ain't such a bad day after all. San Diego's
Josh Cox explained that he got a wicked side stitch after leading the pack
through Wellesley ("the guys back home are never gonna let me live this
down") and unsuccessfully kneaded at the pain for the last half of the
race. No excuses, just an explanation. Mark Coogan told the room that he tried
like hell to hang with the front pack but, hey, "they were just faster than me today".
Again, no excuses, just an honest assessment. What's wrong with American
distance running? Nuttin' honey. They're working their butts off and giving it
an honest effort. Keep it up Americans.
My
writing assignment subject was the women's winner * Catherine Ndereba of Kenya.
Fortunately, Catherine was chock full of quotes ("world record is my next
goal") and human interest (accompanying 3-year-old daughter, Jane) which
made my job easier than anticipated. The elite interviews were finished by 4PM
and my assignment was due by 5PM. Panic. "Just give me 500-600 words in
text format", coached editor Amby Burfoot. As media professionals all
around me clicked away on their laptops, my etch-a-sketch's screen displayed
one word "Amateur". Double shit.
Okay
just pretend you're writing an email to your buddies and you'll do fine. It
flowed. It worked. I handed my disk to Amby at 4:49:38 PM. Tom Derderian was
working away next to him. I'm still positive there was a standing order for a
second story just incase the rookie faltered. Thanks Amby. Thanks Parker. At
your service anytime.
(my
RWOL story is at http://www.runnersworld.com/boston01/home.html )
Ndereba
sets sight on world record - but not at Boston
by
Michael A. Musca