A hop, skip and jump into history

A LITTLE after 3.30 p.m. on the afternoon of Monday, April 6th, 1896, James Brendan Connolly of the Boston Athletic Club, representing the United States, stood at the end of the runway for the triple jump in the new Olympic Stadium at Athens. He was the last man of the seven entrants to take the opening jump. In less than a minute, he was to achieve an unique place in the history of the Olympic Games.

With his first jump of 13.71 metres 44 feet, 113/4 inches he became the first Olympic champion of the modern era, and, after a lapse of 1,527 years, the first Olympic champion to be crowned since the boxer Varasdates of Armenia in 369 A.D.

How James Brendan Connolly came to be in Athens in 1896 is one of the more intriguing stories of the Olympic Games. Connolly was born in the predominantly Irish area of South Boston on Saturday, November 25th, 1865. He was the son of Sean Connolly, later to be known in Boston as John, and Aine O'Donnell, both of whom had been born at Mainister on Inis Mor in the Aran Islands.

In the tradition of both his father's and mother's families, he was introduced to the sea as early as seven years of age. In his autobiography, published in 1944, he wrote of this tradition.

"For as long as my father and mother knew, their people came of sea faring stock. They were Aran Islands folk islands that lie off the west coast of Ireland. It was a rough coast and the Arans are little isles, which was one reason why so many men of those isles took to the sea. The lack of parable land left the sea as their best chance of a living."

It was inevitable then that on his arrival in America, Connolly's father would join the Boston fishing fleet. His mother's brother. Jim O'Donnell, who had emigrated from the Aran Islands at the same time joined the Gloucester fleet higher up on the American coast from Boston. Both, in time, were to become ship captains.

In his autobiography, Connolly recalls several of the voyages he made with his father and uncle to the fishing grounds in the Newfoundland banks and on the north Atlantic.

In later years he became a celebrated writer, the author of six historical works, nine books of short stories and six novels and almost all of them dealt in one way or another with the sea.

In his young days, and despite the wishes and hopes of his father, the young Connolly did not pursue a career at sea. His mother, Aine, had an abiding fear of the sea and under her influence, he agreed to work on land. After leaving school at an early age, he took on a variety of jobs.

Among these job was one as a surveyor of inland waterways in and around Boston. The job lasted for several years and fired an ambition to further his education at university. In October, 1895, Connolly applied 19 the Engineering School at Harvard University, was granted admission and immediately began his studies. Unfortunately, they were to last for barely six months.

Connolly's other passion in life, after the sea, was athletics. Although he was never to become an American champion, he was recognised in Boston and its nearby states as an outstanding competitor, particularly so in the high jump and long jump. However, by the time he entered Harvard University, it was generally accepted that his best years in track and field were behind him.

During the winter of 1895, the local newspapers in Boston carried news that there would be a revival of the Olympic Games at Athens the following year. This caught the imagination of Connolly and when he heard that several athletes from Boston, including some from Harvard, were planning to make the trip to Greece, he decided he would like to go with them.

It was not a decision that was greeted with sympathy or enthusiasm by the Dean of Harvard. When Connolly applied for eight weeks' leave of absence, the Dean was brusque in his dismissal. Connolly was told that he could, go on one condition only he could immediately resign from Harvard and on his return, he could apply again for admission.

The Dean also added that in view of Connolly's age, plus, the fact he had been a student for only a few months, the chances of being readmitted were remote. The Dean described the trip as nothing more than a "junket".

Connolly, however, had his mind firmly concentrated on the trip. According to his own account, he bade "good day" to the Dean and immediately walked out of Harvard.

And so it came about that on March 19th, 1896, in company with nine other Boston athletes, Connolly took a train from Boston to New York and on the following day set sail for Naples. They reached Naples one April 1st and treated themselves to a two day break to enjoy the art galleries of the ancient Italian city. Their break came to an abrupt end midway through the second day when Connolly discovered that his wallet had been stolen.

On the following morning, when the American party arrived at the Naples railway station to catch the eight o'clock train to Brindisi, the police were waiting. The good news was that Connolly's wallet had been discovered the disquieting news was that the police wanted Connolly in court so that the culprit could be prosecuted.

With the train's departure looming, Connolly tried to explain that be could not do this. The police were insistent and as the arguments went on, the rest of the Americans left to board the train. Eventually, in desperation, Connolly took the only course available to him. He broke away from the police and sprinted for the train which was now moving and just as it began to gather speed, he was hauled aboard by his countrymen.

From Brindisi, the Americans travelled across Italy, then down the Adriatic to Corfu, then to the port of Patras and that was followed by a 10 hour train trip to Athens.

Once it became known that the Americans had arrived, they were given a remarkable welcome by members of the organising committee of the first Olympic Games. Accommodation was found for them, and once they were settled in they were invited to join in on the major Olympic celebrations in the city that night. According to Connolly, these went on until the mid hours of the morning of Monday, April 6th, 1896.

The Americans believed that the opening day of the Games was April 18th, which would give them 12 days to prepare for their events. They were not aware that the Greek calendar was 12 days ahead of the American calendar and when they were handed the programme they discovered that the Games were due to start on that day and within a matter of hours at that.

Connolly had entered for his two favourite events, the high jump and long jump, and also for the triple jump, known in those days as the hop, step and jump. The event was largely unknown in America it was not to become, a regular feature of the American Championships until 1906 and by his own admission, Connolly knew little about it.

Somewhat 10 his consternation, he found that the opening events of the first Games were the heat's of the 100 metres and the final of the triple jump. That, he recorded, was a sobering moment. "After 6,000 miles and 16 days of travel some of us would now have to compete that day."

In marked contrast to the extraordinary publicity that accompanies a modern Games, the news of the opening day at Athens in 1896 occasioned scant treatment in the newspapers of the world outside of Greece. In its edition of Tuesday, April 7th, 1896, on page five, The Irish Times carried this agency report

"Athens, Monday The opening of the Olympic Games today is observed as a national festival, enthusiastic interest being taken in the sports. The day was opened with a Te Deum in the Cathedral at which members of the Royal Family and the Russian Grand Duke George were present. The Russian Prince and his fiance Princess Marie wee heartily cheered.

"The spectators at today's events are calculated to have numbered 18,000. The Royal Party arrived at three o'clock. They were met in the centre of the arena by the Crown Prince surrounded by members of the Organising Committee. His Highness in a short speech, formally begged to King to take over in the name of Greece the Stadium, the restoration of which had been rendered possible by the generosity of a great Greek.

"His Majesty, in reply expressed his admiration for the incomparable beauty of the structure. He also cordially welcomed the athletic youth who had come from all parts of the world to lend brilliance to the festival.

Not a mention of James Brendan Connolly.

At the end of the brief opening ceremony Connolly and six others reported for the start of the triple jump. Connolly watched some of the early jumpers in action and realised that he had a problem. He did not understand Greek, he did not understand the metric system and he had no idea of the distances his rivals were achieving.

He resolved his difficulties by the simple matter of walking to the pit and placing his cap just ahead of the best mark that had been recorded, up to then, by the Frenchman Alexandre Tuffere.

He went back to the end of the runway, made his jump and landed far ahead of his cap. The distance was announced at 13.71 metres, three feet further than the best by Tuffere.

There is no record of the distances achieved by Conolly in his other two attempts but his first jump was enough to give him the enduring distinction of becoming the first Olympic champion of the modern era.

Later in the Games, Connolly won an Olympic silver medal in the high jump and a bronze medal in the long jump. Four year's later, at Paris, he won another Olympic silver medal in the triple jump.

Two years after his Olympic victory in Athens, Connolly served with the 9th Massachusetts Infantry in the Siege of Santiago in Cuba and later did a spell in the US Navy.

In 1912, he ran for the US Congress as a member of the Progressive party, but was defeated. By then, he had established himself as a writer and in 1916, after he had been invited by Colliers Mazagine to cover General Pershing's invasion of Mexico, he became the naval correspondent to the magazine and devoted the rest of his career to journalism and a lengthy succession of books.

As he records in his autobiography, he did return to Harvard University. "It was, 10 years after Athens before I again set foot in a Harvard building and then it was as guest speaker of the Harvard Union and the occasion nourished my ego no end.

James Brendan Connolly died in Boston on January 20th, 1957, at the age of 92.