Sir Peter Snell
‘He was the greatest of them all’
At the risk of being overly dramatic, a small part of New Zealand has died with the news of Sir Peter Snell’s death. Snell was the greatest middle-distance runner of his era and a generation of New Zealanders felt a vicarious sense of pride in his achievements.
With three Olympic gold medals and a clutch of world records, he turned the world spotlight on our small country.
New Zealand has produced any number of superb sportsmen and women, but I can think of only three who really shook up the sports world – Jack Lovelock after he won the 1936 Olympic 1500m gold medal, Edmund Hillary when he was the first to climb Mt Everest, and Snell.
In the days before international flight was routine and before television, Lovelock, lived in England and the USA. New Zealanders gloried in his feats but felt little connection.
Hillary was huge, of course, and remained a genuine world figure throughout his long life.
Snell, the third member of the triumvirate, was a superstar.
In his prime, he attracted crowds of 30,000-plus to athletics meetings in Auckland. When he ran in places like Whanganui, Invercargill, Tokoroa and Masterton, the turnout to see him sometimes exceeded the population of the town.
Largely because of Snell’s pulling power (and other Arthur Lydiard-trained athletes such as Murray Halberg, John Davies, Barry Magee and Bill Baillie) runners from around the world would descend on New Zealand during our summer.
Olympic medallists Roger Moens from Belgium and George Kerr of Jamaica, plus other big names, including Englishman Bruce Tulloh and American Dyrol Burleson, made their way here to race against the great Snell.
For someone who was so dominant on the track, Snell was not a particularly outgoing personality.
In the manner of his time, he was understated, even reticent, in dealing with the media. After he won his first Olympic gold medal, in Rome in 1960, he was too shy to run a victory lap. Even his autobiography was called No Bugles No Drums.
But he never under-rated his ability. He once told me that because of the strength he built up through his marathon-type training, he never faced an opponent he felt could outkick him in the home straight.
He was confident enough to attempt the double of the 800m and 1500m at the 1964 Tokyo Olympics, and won both finals in a grand manner.
Though Snell was beaten in some lesser races, when his motivation had wandered, he never lost a major race. That included two Empire Games gold medals and victory in the World Games in 1961.
Immediately after his marriage in 1963 he set off for California for two big races against a pack of confident and talented Americans who were plotting and planning how to beat him.
They felt he would be vulnerable on his honeymoon and coming off a mediocre domestic season. He had a weakness in the third lap of the mile, they decided.
The result: Snell won back-to-back races in Modesto and Compton, both times barely missing his own world record, and left the Americans floundering in his wake.
New Zealanders followed his exploits with immense pride. We’re a more confident country these days, and not just in the sports arena.
But in the early 1960s, Snell undeniably helped New Zealand puff out its chest. We knew the rest of the world was taking notice of us.
He retired from running in 1965, aged just 26. ‘‘There was nothing left to achieve,’’ he explained a few years ago. ‘‘I had absolutely no motivation left. It would have been different today, with all the money in athletics, but I was an amateur. I had to get on with my life.’’
He worked for the Rothmans Sports Foundation for a few years and, he admitted sheepishly, even took up smoking for a while to support his employer.
Then his life changed dramatically. A year at Loughborough College in England in 1971 convinced Snell, who had failed University Entrance, that he could achieve academic distinction.
So he moved to the US, where he earned a BSc degree while studying at the University of California from 1974-77.
He then got caught up in the Superstars television craze and the money he won in those events paid for his graduate studies at Washington State University.
He moved to Dallas to do a post-doctoral fellowship. Once he met Miki, who became his second wife, the prospect of returning home
He was always quick to delight in the exploits of others, from John Walker to Nick Willis
dimmed.
He made the odd effort. I know he spoke with Sports Minister Mike Moore about the prospect of a job in New Zealand, but there was no role for him here at the time.
So he remained in Dallas, though he kept a close eye on
New Zealand, returning frequently to fulfil his responsibility as a Sports Foundation governor, to boost the Peter Snell Institute of Sport in Auckland, to run the final lap of the 1990 Auckland Commonwealth Games opening ceremony and for other one-off occasions.
He donated his precious gold medals to Te Papa and some other prized mementos to the New Zealand Sports Hall of Fame.
Snell was the first person inducted into the Hall of Fame and was named New Zealand’s Athlete of the 20th Century.
He became less reluctant to speak his mind once he retired. He did so when railing against New Zealand athletics’ shoddy officialdom in his autobiography, and I recall him slamming the Hillary Commission in the 1990s for indulging in too much self-promotion.
But he was always quick to delight in the exploits of others, from John Walker to Nick Willis, and proudly represented New Zealand at international gatherings of sports celebrities.
He always retained his New Zealand passport.
I would say he was never anything but a fiercely proud New Zealander. For many of us, his was a presence that defined our years of growing up. He may have lived far away, but he was always one of ours, which is probably why news of his death comes as such a jolt.