Jewel in the crown of a true track king

Carl Lewis had at least one compelling reason to assail history when he travelled the relatively short distance from his home for the 23rd Olympic Games in the Los Angeles Coliseum in 1984.

For most of his 23 years he had been enthralled by the story of Jesse Owens, a man of humble origins who 48 years earlier had won a special place in Olympic and American sporting history.

Snubbed by Adolf Hitler and ignored by much of white America, Owens won the hearts of the track and field world by winning four gold medals in the 100, 200, 4 x 100 metres relay and long jump events in Berlin.

That was not only the benchmark by which excellence came to be measured but the spur which would motivate every top-class sprinter in the ensuing generations. Frederick Carlton Lewis, whose mother Evelyn had come close to Olympic selection in 1952, was no exception.

He came from Bermingham, Alabama, a state which had already given America an icon in Joe Louis, who dominated heavyweight boxing on either side of the second World War. Carl Lewis, so tiny that in his younger days he was known as "The Runt", would grow into a perfect physical specimen. At 6 ft 2 in you didn't have to look hard to find him, but his more important quality was the competitiveness which drove him in the early stages of his career.

Alabama may have been fine for his embryonic talent, but Lewis out-grew his home-town and travelled to California to join the Santa Monica club where he learned from the celebrated coaching skills of Joe Douglas.

The fledgling super star learned his trade surrounded by some of the best athletes in the world. But, at 19, he was already good enough to turn heads every time he stepped onto the track.

The US decision to boycott the 1980 Games in Moscow meant that Lewis missed out on the chance of making his Olympic debut as a teenager. But when the gates of the Los Angeles Coliseum were opened to the world in 1984, the man from Alabama sensed the opportunity of joining Jesse Owens in the pantheon of American sporting greats.

Traditionally the 100 metres is the first of the major championships to be decided and Lewis realised the importance of winning in a manner which would send out the right message to those who barred the way to his hopes of walking away from the Games with four gold medals.

He couldn't have asked for a better start. After winning his three preliminary races in times of 10.32, 10.04 and 10.14 seconds he took his place in the final knowing that he would have to run even faster to collect gold. In a manner which would come to identify his reign, he dominated the race from the start and after building an early lead he delayed the deceleration process long enough to win readily from American team-mate Sam Graddy and Canada's Ben Johnson in 9.99 seconds.

We were not to know it then, but four years later in Seoul his return meeting with Johnson, hyped with all the razzmatazz of a world heavyweight title fight, would spawn one of the great scandals of the sporting century.

The long jump was his next challenge. Lewis had not been beaten since his defeat by Larry Myricks in the American indoor championships three years earlier and, unless form was stood on its head, nobody was going to threaten that record now.

Victory proved easy. With his first jump he broke the sand at exactly 28 feet and the other competitors knew at once that silver and bronze was the limit of their ambitions.

Potentially the 200 metres was his toughest event and it was rumoured that he had experienced some problems in training.

However, those reservations proved grossly overstated and Lewis mined gold for the third time with a superb performance of bend running that took him to victory in an Olympic record of 19.80 seconds.

Now only the sprint relay stood between him and the dream of equalling Owens's extravagant record. Lewis was joined in the US team by Sam Graddy, Ron Brown and former world record holder Calvin Smith. For all the renowned speed of the Caribbean sprinters, nobody could hope to match the favourites.

Graddy went out first, hurtling around the track in 10.29 seconds, followed by Brown (10.19) and Smith (9.41). Even in the blur of speed on the track it was apparent that, barring disaster, Lewis was on the verge of sporting immortality.

The last change-over was perfect and when the champion straightened up he was a couple of metres clear and going away as he sped home in 8.94 seconds. After an interval of almost 50 years, Jesse Owens had at last found a companion in the record books.

What set Lewis apart is that, unlike Owens who was cheated of the possibility of building on his Berlin successes by the war, Los Angeles was merely the starting point in an international career which brought him undreamed of honours.

By the time he was through with major international competition Lewis had accumulated nine Olympic gold medals and eight from the World Championships. No other athlete in history has matched that. In his time Lewis also endured disappointment, most notably when a virus kept him out of the American trials in 1992 and cost him the chance of winning the Olympic 100 metres title for a third consecutive time at Barcelona.

At Tokyo in 1991 he suffered the shock of losing his world long jump title to Mike Powell, the first time in 10 years and 65 competitive appearances that he had lost in the event. Typically he bounced back and when he won the Olympic long jump at Atlanta in 1996, he equalled Al Oerter's achievement in making three successful defences of an Olympic title.

Yet Los Angeles in 1984 was the jewel in the crown, an occasion when Lewis took the expectations of a nation on his broad shoulders and carried them to the podium in a manner which is likely to inspire generations yet unborn.