Compelling story of triumph

The Tokyo Games mark the 32nd Olympiad, and first to take place in an odd year. The looks back on 10 memorable Olympic moments.

The Perfect 10 (1976)

Before there was Simone Biles there was Nadia Comaneci . . .

It is difficult to look back at the smile and remarkable gymnastics of tiny teenaged Romanian Comaneci in the same light that she created around the world in 1976.

The widespread abuse of kids in gymnastics programmes is a dark business and the instigators include a Romanian couple — Bela and Marta Karolyi — who later transported their foul deeds to America. Comaneci is said to be among their first victims.

But Comaneci mania flooded a naive world, after the 14yearold won three golds in Montreal and landed perfect 10s in seven routines.

Her first 10 was also an Olympic first and so unexpected that the electronic scoreboards were not able to show 10, so flashed up one instead.

“I’m not sure what was the definition of perfection and whatever that meant . . . my goal was to not make a major mistake and hit the ground,” Comaneci said.

Derek Redmond tears up (1992)

Triumph and disaster meet at such regular intervals at the Olympics both those imposters need some special sauce to stand out.

Derek Redmond was a live medal chance in the 400m, having won his quarterfinal and was well placed in the semifinal before tearing his hamstring in the back straight. That in itself wasn’t a surprise: Redmond had to pull out of his heat 90 seconds before it started due to an Achilles tendon injury and all told had endured eight surgeries over his career.

Perhaps sensing that he would never get another Olympic opportunity, Redmond decided to make this one last. Rising from his haunches he proceeded to hobble the rest of the distance in front of an increasingly appreciative crowd.

Suddenly a large man appeared from the crowd and brushed aside an official who attempted to halt his progress. Jim Redmond reached his son and reportedly said to him: “Son, you don’t have to do this.” To which Derek replied through uncontrollable sobbing: “Yes I do.”

Father and son reached the finish line in front of a now adoring crowd and despite the unwanted attentions of

Olympic officials, who clearly didn’t understand the “it’sbiggerthansport” story even as it unfolded in realtime in front of their eyes.

Close to 30 years on, the footage still has the capacity to move you.

Pietri, the dish (1908)

If sports photography has a flashpoint — pardon the pun — moment when it becomes an integral part of the sporting canon (yes, another pun), it would be the image of Dorando Pietri inexplicably being ushered across the finish line in the 1908 marathon.

The diminutive Italian pastry chef was the first to enter London’s White City Stadium in the first Olympic marathon to be run under the 42.195km distance, due to starting from a specially selected lawn within Windsor Castle.

Some 75 athletes entered but only 27 finished and it looked like South African Charles Hefferon would take it out until the race leader accepted a drink, some reports say a bottle of Champagne, that he said gave him a cramp.

That saw Pietri overtake him before suffering from dehydration once he entered the stadium, falling down four times during the final lap before the finish line. Each time he fell, Pietri was helped up by officials, taking 10 minutes to complete the final 350m before seemingly crossing for gold.

Johnny Hayes arrived a minute later and immediately the American team protested Pietri’s win and he was disqualified. Champagne quaffing Hefferon finished with silver.

Pietri did not leave emptyhanded. In fact, he was arguably the star of the Games.

Queen Alexandra ended up gifting him a gilded silver cup for his efforts, while famed Sherlock Holmes author Arthur Conan Doyle, working as a

reporter, started a fundraiser for Pietri to open a bakery in his native town. Composer Irving Berlin even wrote a song to honour him.

Pietri quickly became a celebrity before squandering his money on a failed hotel.

The Age of the Boycott (197684)

Thanks, New Zealand Rugby.

OK, not totally fair because Olympic boycotts had been around since 1936, when Spain refused to compete in Berlin and several countries pulled out of the 1956 Melbourne Games for a variety of reasons, ranging from the USSR’s invasion of Hungary to the Suez Crisis.

Unquestionably, however, the arrogance of NZ Rugby ushered in the “golden age” of boycotts, when the All Blacks’ tour to

Apartheidera

South Africa resulted in 26

African countries boycotting

Montreal (it would become 27 when

Egypt pulled out three days after the

Games started).

Among other things, it denied the sporting world a potential repeat of the Filbert Bayi

John Walker 1500m showdown that so electrified the

Christchurch

Commonwealth

Games two years earlier.

Four years later, in response to the

Soviet invasion of

Afghanistan, 62 nations, led by the United States, boycotted the Moscow Games. In what was widely seen as a titfortat response, 14 mainly Eastern bloc countries boycotted Los Angeles, though China did return after a 32year absence.

The boycott tide ebbed at Seoul four years later and subsequent Olympiads have been largely free from overt political acts of absenteeism, but New Zealand will always have its own infamous place as the instigators of the golden age of boycotts.

Soviet block: Sport's most infamous ending (1972)

The Americans celebrated winning gold, but the refs had a surprise for them . . .

The Cold War was still in full swing — a final between the two world heavyweights was far more than a mere medal match.

The Americans, whose teams were made up of amateur collegiate players — were unbeaten in Olympic basketball and shooting for an eighth straight gold.

But the Soviets, whose state sports programmes gave them an edge in the ‘‘shamateur’’ era, caused a massive Munich boilover as the match ended in pandemonium.

The bedlam included a Sovietcaused ruckus at the scorer’s table, a clock reset in the final seconds, a mystery hooter and all sorts of claims and counterclaims. It may be the most infamous ending in the history of sport.

Bottom line: The Soviets triumphed 5150, a long wonder pass setting up the winning basket for Alexander Belov as the final horn sounded again.

The Soviets were naturally ecstatic as the bitter Americans — who refused their silver medals — claimed they were robbed. While it is difficult to succinctly summarise the madness of those few seconds, it is difficult not to sympathise with their belief they were stitched up.

Within six years the great Belov was dead at the age of 26, from cancer.

Lightning Bolt strikes (2008)

Before Bolt, there was not a lot to celebrate in the world of sprinting. Cast your eyes down to No 14 on this list and from there traverse through the likes of Justin Gatlin, Tim Montgomery, Marion Jones and Balco.

After Bolt, there was an acknowledgement that we’d lived through the era of the most charismatic track and field athlete in history.

His prowess was known in athletics circles preBeijing, but it was his performance in the 100m final there that announced him to the world. In one of the more extraordinary sights in Olympic history, Bolt so obliterated the field he slowed down and showboated with close to 20m still to run.