Travelling back to Helsinki 1952!

When famous statistician/journalist Stan Greenberg writes his memories from his 1952 Helsinki Olympic Games experience as a young and passionate athletics fan, it becomes a fascinating human story. Through Greenberg’s words we travel back more than half a century to relive the magic moments he spent in the Finnish capital, host of this summer’s World Championships.

I was totally obsessed with athletics since my one day visit to the Olympic Games in 1948, and began planning for the following Games in Helsinki four years later. On the boat trip from Tilbury I met an Argentinean sprinter, added to his team at the last moment, and making his own way to Finland. He could only speak Spanish, so we conversed in a manner, aided by his Spanish/English dictionary. Among other people on the trip were Arthur Gold, later President of the EAA; the Irish 1932 gold medal hurdler Bob Tisdall; and the 1936 British 4x400m relay gold medallist Bill Roberts.

The next morning we arrived in Gothenburg, but, due to a mix-up, instead of crossing Sweden, we had to remain there until the next day, when we took a train to Stockholm. There, at the port area, we bid farewell to two New Zealanders who were cycling through Sweden to the Finnish border. We boarded another ship to cross the Baltic. Passing through the Aland Islands in the middle of the night, I could see as easily as if it were midday, the sun setting, but then going straight up again – the famous midnight sun.

Arriving in Abo (Turku) early in the morning, some of the group went on by train, and others by coach. Halfway, the railway line passed through a Soviet occupied area. Though not considered an especially secret base by Western intelligence, the train was stopped, shutters placed over all the windows, and armed guards positioned at either end of carriages. At the border of this area, the shutters were taken down and the guards left. The second group had just as exciting a trip. Because of the delay in Sweden, we were late for the Opening Ceremony, and the driver of the coach drove like the proverbial lunatic, arriving at the stadium with minutes to spare.

It was raining and most of us had our rainwear in our baggage, so we raced to our seats getting soaked in the mainly uncovered stadium. Luckily, I found sitting next to a pretty English girl who kindly offered to share her pac-a-mac, and who gained my admiration when she told me that she had been at the 1950 European Championships in Brussels. The Opening Ceremony began at 1pm, but the rain didn’t dampen anyone’s enthusiasm, the crowd eagerly awaiting the announcement of the final torchbearer who would light the flame. When the scoreboard started to print the name, it had got no further than “N” when the place erupted. Everybody had expected it would be Nurmi and, as he entered, the massed athletes in the centre broke ranks crowding to the edge of the track to see one of the most famous athletes of all time. Sitting high above the first bend, with the Olympic cauldron on the edge of the track just below, I had an excellent view. Nurmi then ran the torch to the tower, where the flame was given to Hannes Kolehmainen – the first of the Flying Finns – to take up to the top and light the flame that could be seen all over Helsinki.

My accommodation was in a school hall, and consisted of rows of double bunk beds. I had a bottom berth, with the top occupied by a former winner of the AAA Junior 1 Mile walk. He said that his family were emigrating to New Zealand soon after the Games, and I never expected to hear of him again. His name was Norman Read, and I certainly did hear of him again, four years later when he won the Olympic 50km Walk for New Zealand. A very pleasant, resourceful chap, I remember a day in the stadium when it rained again, and he had forgotten his rainwear. He immediately took off his shirt and calmly sat on it, topless in the pouring rain, surrounded by raincoats and umbrellas. The other fans seemed fascinated by this, especially the Japanese, who clustered round taking pictures of the “crazy Englishman”. He wasn’t so crazy, for, as he said, he would have a dry shirt to put on when the rain stopped. I wonder how many of those cameramen realise that they have a unique photo of an Olympic champion.

The first events were the qualifying trials for the men’s High Jump and the women’s Discus Throw. I got my first sight of the giant, 2.04m tall, American high jumper, Walt Davis, who won the event by clearing his own height – a feat never to be achieved again. The Soviet women throwers dominated their qualifying event, but the New Zealander, Yvette Williams, threw remarkably well for a long jumper, and the “divine” Zatopek won the 10,000m from old faithful Alain Mimoun. I had recently bought my first stop-watch, from an Army surplus shop. It only cost 15 shillings (1.05 Euros) but it worked perfectly, and despite my awkward, albeit high, position in the stadium, I timed Marjorie Jackson’s World sprint records dead on.

On one day a middle-aged couple, very smartly dressed, came up the stairs to where I was, and to my surprise sat in the seats next to mine. I vaguely recognised the man, and as it was obvious they were new to the sport, I explained things and pointed out athletes. He was Viktor Barna, one of the greatest table tennis players ever, who was on a Scandinavian tour.

We spectators bought food and drink from kiosks, and learnt one lesson very quickly. Initially, we queued in an orderly fashion, but found that everybody else just pushed in and shoved us back. In desperation we formed a ‘flying wedge’ and forced our way through. Very un-British but we got served. Another problem was the British ignorance of the metric system - all results were announced and shown that way. It caused me more grief when I entered a sweetshop to get something. Not speaking or understanding any Finnish - I still find it hard to believe that anybody does - I used my hands to imply that I wanted a basic amount of some small, coloured, sweets. After much gesticulating the lady put a quantity into a bag. Have you ever had a kilo of sweets? I didn’t have the nerve to argue about it, and the cost bit deeply into my financial ‘reserves’, but they did make me very popular in the stadium that afternoon, as I offered them around to all and sundry.

Having only previously seen triple jumps of under 15.00m, I was astonished, and delighted, to watch Adhemar Ferreira da Silva break his own World record of 16.01m with four of his jumps, the best being 16.22m. In the women’s Long Jump the battle for the gold was between the statuesque (1.88m) Alexandra Chudina (URS) and Yvette Williams (NZL). It was then that we met up again with the two cycling New Zealanders from Stockholm. They lifted a gigantic New Zealand flag out of its socket at the rear of the seating, and were trying to wave it to encourage Williams. Some of us clambered over to where they were sitting, and helped them cheer her on. They taught us a rough version of the famous ‘Haka’ and we really let rip. People must have wondered where all these Kiwis had come from. It seems we helped, as on her fourth jump Yvette jumped a centimetre short of the World record to clinch the gold medal. With Shirley Cawley (GBR) taking the bronze, everybody was pleased, except perhaps Chudina. She was a remarkable athlete, going on to get another silver in the Javelin Throw, and a bronze in the High Jump. Since 1947 she had already set four World pentathlon records, and would set another two over the next three years.

I’ll refrain from describing all that I witnessed at those Games, but some things stood out. Harrison Dillard finally winning the high hurdles, four years after I had seen him win the 100m; steeplechaser Ashenfelter, the FBI man, being ‘followed’ by the Soviet Union’s Kazantsev, and providing the press with a good story; Jozsef Csermak breaking the World record of his Hungarian countryman, 1948 champion Imre Nemeth; the now grown-up Bob Mathias retaining his decathlon title by the biggest margin ever; ‘Mrs Zatopek’, Dana Zatokova, winning her javelin gold on the same afternoon as Emil won the 5000m; and the disastrous relay change by the Australian women. However, there are three memories that remain very vivid. Firstly, there was Zatopek, winning, in order, the 10,000m, the 5000m, and then the marathon. He ended the latter in remarkably good shape, and began eating an apple. The runner-up, Gorno, finished 2 and a half minutes later, almost to an early demise, as good-hearted Emil pushed the uneaten half of his apple into the Argentinean’s gasping mouth.

Secondly, we had the 10,000m track walk - not surprisingly for the last time in the Olympic Games. There was the totally ludicrous sight of Schwab (SUI) and Junk(URS), silver and bronze medallists, running, yes really running, up the home straight, so fast that the chief judge couldn’t catch them to disqualify them. The place was in an uproar. Incidentally, that walking judge was Giorgio Oberweger, the bronze medal winner in the 1936 discus.

Lastly there was the 4x400m relay - one of the greatest races I have ever seen. Jamaica had three of the world’s best quarter-milers and a pretty good sprinter, and wanted to atone for its failure in 1948. The Americans had four men in the world’s top ten. Ollie Matson(46.7) handed over a metre ahead of Wint, and then Gene Cole ran a superb leg (45.5), against little Les Laing (47.0), to open a seemingly winning gap. However, ‘Hustling’ Herb McKenley made the 400m Hurdles champion, Charlie Moore, look as though he was standing still with the then fastest relay leg ever (44.6). The Olympic 400m champion, George Rhoden, took over a metre ahead of the Olympic 800m champion, Mal Whitfield, and so the gap remained throughout that last lap, as though a rod was holding them apart, both running 45.5. The twenty-year-old World record of 3:08.2 was smashed as Jamaica clocked 3:03.9, and the USA 3:04.0.

This year I return to Helsinki for the World Championships. In 1952 the whole trip cost a total of £65 (94€), of which the stadium tickets, including the opening ceremony, were £9 (14€) - these alone in 2005 will be of the order of £750 (1050€).

Published in IAAF Magazine Issue 2 - 2005

The original version of this article was first published in Track Stats, the quarterly journal of NUTS