Is it a NZ thing, Max, I wonder, to speak of roofs rather than rooves?
Anyway, I like the touch of both you and Murray emerging from houses, he
with withered arm and ambition, you ready with modest pride for him. We
don't get Snell's house which might have been good too? Lydiard the coach
seems flung on us a bit too familiarly. I for one, have never heard of him
and the way he enters the poem, it as though you have already spoken of
him, which you have of course, but not by name.
Bill
On Thursday, 16 June 2016, Max Richards <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Our Runners in Black, 1960
>
> I’d see him running past most days each week.
> Both our families lived in Hargest Terrace,
> postwar State Houses, somewhat look-alike,
> tile roofs, some weatherboard, some yellow brick.
> small front lawns, standard letterboxes.
> (Hargest was a World War II V.C.)
>
> Murray ran lopsided, never looked strong.
> It was the withered arm you noticed,
> then his sandy coloring, that look
> of ginger eyelashes. He’d attended
> the other school. We felt smarter
> and proud of our young runners.
>
> He took my sister out once; nothing
> came of it. His training schedule
> with a strict new coach took all week.
> He made it in our Olympic team
> that year. So did ‘my’ Peter Snell,
> so stylish and strong, our school champ.
>
> Lydiard coached him too. Off they went, we
> followed the team in black by radio
> and daily paper. Few lodged bets.
> Rome was so far away, so foreign.
> When Peter won his gold we shouted.
> Next thing Murray with his arm - the five
>
> thousand metres! we were delirious.
> World-class courage, worn on his sleeve.
> We boasted of their - and our - modesty.
> We were a nation of runners, harking
> back to Lovelock, quiet fifteen-hundred
> surprise at Berlin ’36, who died so young.
>
> Peter and Murray, knighted, are still alive.
>
> Seattle, June 2016
>
> [Murray Halberg, born 1933;
> Peter Snell, born 1938]
>
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