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A mano a mono struggle between Russia and America for the title of "the world's greatest athlete" would have been an apt climax for many past Olympics. But at Montreal, it seemed almost atavistic. Gone, at least for now, are the days when the superpowers smugly split up the men's track and field medals between them, leaving only scrap iron for the satellites of sport. The victors' list last week read like a Rand McNally index, with 13 nations sharing the 23 gold medals (a division of spoils that might have been even wider had the Africans been competing). Mexico, Cuba and Trinidad fielded their first champions, and Guy Drut brought France its only gold since 1956 when he popped over the last 110-meter hurdle like a champagne cork at a Paris party. Hungary heard its anthem played; and so did Sweden, Finland and Jamaica. New Zealand got its totally expected victory from John Walker in the 1,500, but in a dawdling time of 3:39.18. Hirsute Hammer Thrower Yuri Sedyh brought the Soviet Union its first of two golds. The U.S. bagged six, the same as Munich and down six from the halcyon days of Mexico City. Which made it fitting that, with two weeks of successes behind them, an East German enjoyed the Olympics' last lap. Marathon Winner Waldemar Cierpinski circled the Stadium in splendid isolation, well ahead of favored Frank Shorter of the U.S.
Two runners dominated the track events, giving their foes double trouble. One was a horse: Cuba's 6-ft. 3-in., 185-lb. Alberto Juantorena. The other, a wraith: Finland's 5-ft. 11-in., 132-lb. Lasse Viren. Between them they not only took four gold medals, they wrote unprecedented achievements into the record book.
When Juantorena, a 24-year-old graduate student in economics, followed up his world-record performance in the 800 meters (1:43.5) with a win four days later in the 400 meters, he achieved a double rarely attempted in the Olympics, and never before successfully. The two races have different physical demands—the 400 needs more speed, the 800 more strength—and because of the qualifying heats, require a runner to turn in seven world-class performances in seven days. None of this fazed Juantorena, whose biggest hazard might have been a crick in the neck—he kept looking over his shoulder for opposition.
In the 800, the U.S.'s Rick Wohlhuter thought the muscular Cuban had played right into his hands by speeding up the race when there were still 400 meters to go. But when Wohlhuter, usually a consummate 800 strategist, tried to overtake him as they turned into the final stretch, Juantorena just kept pouring it on. Wohlhuter fell back to third place in fatigue, his face contorted with pain and defeat as Juantorena muscled across the finish line and then skipped on in celebration.
In the 400 it was Fred Newhouse of the U.S. who watched helplessly as Juantorena burst past him in the last 20 meters. "He ain't God," said Newhouse, "but he's good." "He's what the future of running is going to be," said Mai Whitfield, gold medal winner in the 800 for the U.S. in 1948 and 1952. "He had no respect for nobody. He just went out there and started smoking."