British sprinting great Linford Christie speaks to AW about documentary making, being able to live up to the hype and why he feels unwelcome in his sport
During the Paris Olympics, “Puma House” was a safe haven for the athletes who are sponsored by the brand. Fitted out with good food and multiple areas to relax, tucked away discreetly in Saint Denis and not too far from the Stade de France, it was a place to refuel, to clear the mind, to celebrate or prepare for the challenge ahead.
If any of those athletes felt in need of an expert view or two, then a number of former stars were also on hand to lend an ear or provide words of wisdom and encouragement.
History Of Linford
From former 800m world record-holder Wilson Kipketer to former men’s pole vault world record-holder Renaud Lavillenie, the big names were only too happy to hang out. Among their number was Linford Christie, who still cuts the same distinctive and imposing figure that he did at his Olympic-winning peak.
He’s 64 now but, as he chews the fat in the sunshine with Matthew Hudson-Smith on the day after the Briton sprinted his way to 400m silver, the man who once simultaneously held the Olympic, world, European and Commonwealth 100m titles looks to be in his element discussing a sport he just can’t shake off.
Listening, watching, learning and being surrounded by athletes, is what he still loves to do. Christie moved straight from the track to coaching and is kept more than occupied by a group that features the likes of Paris relay medallist Bianca Williams. Yet, as he moves to a quiet corner to chat with AW, still he feels like a man on the fringes Linford.
As was outlined by the recent BBC documentary Linford, his has not been a straightforward journey through the sport. Whether it be his treatment at the hands of some sections of the tabloid media, or the two-year ban he has been dogged by since testing positive for nandrolone in 1999 after he had retired from competitive sprinting (he was cleared by British Athletics but the ban was upheld by the IAAF), there has been plenty of pain to sit alongside the joy of the 24 major championships medals he won.
As my colleague Jason Henderson recently wrote on athleticsweekly.com, the programme is “engrossing but uncomfortable to watch”.
The reaction to it, says Christie, has been substantial and largely positive.
“A lot of people didn’t realise what I was going through and what I went through,” Linford says. “I think it’s good for the next generation to see and, like I said in the documentary, still I rise regardless. You can never be anything in life if you don’t sacrifice and in order to be something you’ve got to go through something. This was me, my sacrifice and I went through something.
“Do I feel there’s been a weight lifted [since the documentary]? No. To be honest, it got to a stage where I just didn’t care. If you care too much about what people say then you’ll never make it and I say to my guys [athletes] all the time that I didn’t get to where I am today by worrying about what others are saying about me.
“Your friends don’t need an explanation and your enemies won’t believe you. I just got on with life. At times, of course, it will get to you a little bit, but I’m the kind of person who comes to training making jokes and all the rest of it. If I allow things to get to me, it shapes the mood of everyone else. I’ve got the responsibility of all those people. You don’t have time to let those things get to you.”
It’s that sense of responsibility that Christie admits is what keeps him in the sport.
“I love it,” he says. “It’s never going to be 100 per cent but I love it, it gave me something and all I do is give back. You have to continue. I’m coaching and there are so many times when I think: ‘I have to quit this’ but I have so many people’s lives and careers in my hands so I’ve got to go out there.”
Rather than cut back, though, Linford would also like to give more and be closer to the heart of the action. Having met up with a number of fellow former champions in Paris, he has found his situation of being kept at arm’s length by the powers that be – whether that be World Athletics or his own governing body – is not unusual.
“It’s a shame the main part of the sport, even if I do say so myself, what they’re missing out on,” he says. “I feel that, with my experience, I’ve got a lot to give.
“I think they should use me more but it’s their loss. Winning gold medals, you don’t just go out there and run fast. You have to have certain mindsets and some of these kids have never been there before.
“I don’t want to be a coach on a team, but to motivate. This is what I do. I was never in a race that I didn’t think I could win and I always say to people that I was never the fastest, I just made everyone believe I was.
“I think sometimes people are afraid to employ people that know more than them but the great leaders you don’t have to know, you just have to be able to delegate. I don’t want to sit in the stand and watch, I want to sit in the warm-up area and learn. But they don’t use us.
Linford Comeback
“Track and field is not good at welcoming back the people who made it. It’s sad and it’s why we’re struggling a little bit. You can’t worry about the future if you don’t know your past and there’s a wealth of knowledge going right back. Puma is doing that, bringing us back in so that when the athletes come in, we’re here, they can ask questions, [we can] perhaps alleviate some fears and help. I think that’s what the sport needs to do.
“We should start doing this in Britain. Bring back some of the old people because knowledge is key.”
It’s a common refrain from the athletes of the past. Christie is highly complimentary of current UKA CEO Jack Buckner and interim head coach Paula Dunn but he also adds:
“I want to be among the athletes. I go to the [British] trials and I get one little pass that doesn’t get me anywhere. In the same way they invite the athletes, they should be writing to me and saying: ‘Linford, are you coming to the trials?’ but sometimes you go to these places and you don’t feel welcome. Most years, if it wasn’t for the athletes I wouldn’t go. I think a lot of the other ex-athletes don’t feel welcome, either. We’re lucky to have Jack and Paula, but some of the others? No.”
We are sitting not far from a room with the grand title of the Puma innovation lab that houses a number of the latest developments in running, sprinting and jumping footwear technology.
Does being this close to the super spikes, I ask, make Christie wonder what he could have done with a pair of them on his feet at the peak of his powers?
“Things move on and it’s the future but I’ve always said it’s not the spikes, it’s the man in the spikes,” says the man whose British 100m record of 9.87 stood for 30 years. “You have to help the spikes help you. I now think that a lot of people are reliant on them [to the extent that] if they don’t have the spikes or something’s gone wrong then they don’t feel like they can perform.
“But things move on and the mindsets of the new guys compared to the old guys are totally different.”
With the help of shows like the Netflix series Sprint, Christie’s favoured events are moving back into a spotlight which had dimmed following the retirement of Usain Bolt. Yet it would appear that Briton would have taken some persuading to be a part of the TV circus had he been in his prime.
“It makes you say things you shouldn’t say,” Linford says. “You never upset your opponents because you give them 10 per cent more adrenaline to beat you.
“There’s a lot of hype now and people saying they’re champions before they are champions. People like Noah Lyles, on one hand he’s good for the sport and he’s bringing a lot of attention but sometimes we don’t want the attention because if you’re the favourite you’ve got to win. Sometimes you prefer to put the pressure on other people rather than put it on yourself.”
All of the above is why Christie was impressed to see the American come out on top in Paris after a superb 100m contest that came down to the finest of margins.
“Performance is what it’s all about,” Linford continues. “It doesn’t matter what you say or what you do before or what you’ve done, when you step on the start line all slates are wiped clean and you’ve got to start again and do your thing. If you can’t back it up, it’s a problem.
“It was a great race. I think Kishane Thompson and Fred Kerley thought they’d already won it but it’s never over until it’s over. My coach always used to say to me: ‘Run 101 metres’. You can see some of the guys starting to dip a few metres out but Noah ran all the way through. If Kishane and Fred had continued running through the line then it would have been a different story but Noah had heart and he wanted it more than everybody else. He needed that and that propelled him.”
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