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Obituaries
Johnny
Kelley
Pat Butcher writes: Another great
marathoner came to the end of the
longest road on 21 August 2011.
Boston Marathon winner, and eighttime
US champion, John ‘Kelley the
Younger’ (to distinguish him from
John A Kelley, who had previously
twice won the Boston Marathon)
died at the age of 80 from
complications linked to a melanoma.
I never met either Kelley, but the
documentary on Alain Mimoun whose
premiere I attended in Paris 18 months
ago, includes a tribute from Kelley the
Younger, who had featured early in the
race which earned Mimoun his Olympic
gold, the 1956 Melbourne Olympic
Marathon.
The director of the documentary,
Benjamin Rassat showed me a letter that
John J had written to Mimoun. It is a
beautiful tribute, as befits a man who
claimed that he discovered great
literature at the same time as running,
and dedicated himself to both.
Remembering Alain Mimoun
in Melbourne
When I think of Alain Mimoun, I
invariably think of Emil Zatopek. The two
men’s lives were already intertwined in
world athletic legend [before] the
Melbourne Olympic Marathon [on]
December 1, [1956].
For three young Americans also entered in
that event, the opportunity of sharing
their company was like having won
engraved passes to spend two hours
among the gods. The oldest of our trio,
Nick Costes, was twenty-nine, already an
army veteran who had spent most of his
tour in Europe, where he had actually
seen the great ones compete. Dean
Thackwray and I were five years or so
younger than Nick. Together, we formed
the strongest United States marathon
contingent in several Olympiads. And for
the first time in living memory, we had
been rated an outsider’s chance to break
into the medals.
Yet, as we began our month’s approach to
the big race, plugging through ten or
more miles a day around the Melbourne
Olympic Village track, the task cut out for
us loomed as formidable as would that of
tackling Mount Olympus itself.
Our friend Nick had insisted on our
sticking to the track, monotonous as such
workouts tended to be. “Where else could
we mingle with the gods?” Nick asked. To
know Nick was to realize that his question
was both rhetorical and literal. For there,
circling that 400-meter oval each day,
were the very immortals he had worshiped
during his military tour. Nick had even
made up a hymn of praise to Emil and
Alain. (As I now try to bring it up, there
was reference to a great Soviet runner,
Anoufriev, in it, too.)
Dean and I were as impressed as Nick,
but reserved our commitment to such
earthly miracles. How would the likes of
those deities deign to associate with us?
we asked. “I’ll show you,” Nick said. The
next day he called us over to shake hands
with a pair of affable gods. Emil Zatopek
and his supreme challenger Alain Mimoun
thereafter joined us for those daily
circlings of that oval populated with the
“creme de la creme” of the world’s
amateur athletes. Prancing in their
company, Nick, Dean and I gained
immediate entry to our sport’s executive
suite.
Czechoslovakian Emil was said to speak
five languages. On those wonder-filled
days, he confined himself to English and
French. Algerian Alain spoke French.
Communication among us never posed a
problem. Our heroes laughed and smiled
constantly. Titanic though their
competitions may have been, they
cavorted like the thirty-five-year-old kids
they were on that practice track.
At Helsinki, Finland in 1952, Emil had
done the impossible by winning the 5,000
meter and 10,000 meter track events and
then adding the marathon to his
collection of gold. But now, at Melbourne,
nobody would expect anything
approaching that of a man only six weeks
past a surgical operation. And Alain at
his ripe athletic age, could hardly be
counted on to prevail over a rising
generation.
The old heroes had clearly seen their best
days. Their great-hearted Aussie hosts
would gladly have cast gold medals in
their honor. Cornered, the pair just smiled
in answer to reporters’ queries. Perhaps
they knew a secret or two.
Marathon day dawned cloudless and still.
Summer had suddenly come to Melbourne.
A playful Emil Zatopek raised his eyes
skyward from the stadium track’s starting
line and said, “Today we die.” Poised
beside him, a set-jawed Alain Mimoun
had at last shed his frolicker’s role.
Two hours and twenty-five minutes later,
the man who had put in so many miles
chasing his historically famous rival, over
so many years, finally clutched his
Olympic Marathon laurel wreath. Once
again, the mustachioed smile returned as
Alain Mimoun trotted through his victory
lap to rapturous applause.
It was an ovation only equaled by that
accorded to fifth(in fact, sixth)-place
finisher Emil Zatopek several minutes
later.
Our American trio didn’t fare so well. But
that’s another story. The big story for me,
then and thereafter, was our unforgettable
welcome into the lives of giants in the
month of November 1956.
John Walsh
Barry Whitmore reports the sad
news of John Walsh’s sudden
death while out running on the
morning of Saturday 17
September, at the age of 56.
John, originally from Scotland,
was a well-known coach and
married to Malta's queen of
distance running and current
record holder, Carol, nee Galea.
Malta Challenge Marathon and
the AIMS family offer their
condolences to Carol Walsh.
Mel Batty
Mel Batty, English national crosscountry
champion in 1964 and
1965, died at Southend Hospital
(GBR) on 24 August 2011, where
he never recovered from a coma
suffered after having fallen. He
was narrowly beaten for the
1964 International Cross Country
title (precursor to the World
Cross Country Championships) in
a desperate finish with Jean
Fayolle (FRA) in Ostend.
On 11 April 1964 Batty circled the
440 yards track at Hurlingham Park,
London, 40 times to set a world
record of 47:26.8 for 10 miles and
win the AAA Championship for the
distance. Ron Hill lowered this record
to 47:02.2 in 1968 and the 10 miles
track championship was dropped
from the AAA programme after 1969.
Batty’s best time for 6 miles on the
track was 27:56.6 – worth around
28:52 for 10,000m. He was also a
prodigious road racer, who set course
records in many races in the south of
England, always representing his club,
Thurrock Harriers.
As a coach, Batty’s greatest success
was with Eamonn Martin, the last
British man to win the London
Marathon (in 1993). Martin set a UK
record of 27:23.06 for 10,000m in
1988 at Oslo and won the
Commonwealth 10,000m title in
1990 at Auckland, New Zealand,
outsprinting some good Kenyan
athletes to do so.
Distance Running | 2011 Edition 4 33