I suppose you could say it was Merv Lincoln who started it all.
Mervyn George Lincoln, born November 1933, was an Australian middle distance runner who, in the wake of the great John Landy and contemporaneously with international world record holders like Derek Ibbotson and László Tábori, helped transform the mile race into an event that drew huge crowds, the images filling the front pages of newspapers.
And so I was easily tempted away from my books in Melbourne University's Baillieu Library this very week 59 years ago — 23 March 1957 — to stroll the short distance to the running track where Lincoln was going to attempt the four minute mile.
In the recent National Championships, Lincoln had failed to crack four minutes and been beaten by a newcomer, Herb Elliott. But now, a couple of weeks later, against a strong field and paced over the first two laps by a promising 19-year-old named Ron Clarke, Lincoln was having another shot.
As a postgraduate student with an accommodating timetable, the flexibility of which I was putting under serious strain, I went to watch the race, more out of curiosity than a committed interest in athletics. I played football and cricket in their seasons and squash most of the year round. I was not a runner.
The four minute mile had so captured the public imagination in both hemispheres that it was not surprising to find the tight surrounds of the circular track packed to overflowing. Lincoln was ready for the challenge. It was, as he recalled it, 'a beautiful day for running, no wind, a slight dampness in the air and despite the ... huge crowd, I felt that the atmosphere was village-like'.
Anyone who saw that run remembers Clarke leading the field through a furious first two laps. Then, in Lincoln's words, 'I flew home over the last two laps, with the crowd roaring encouragement. After [the finish] there was an anxious pause of three minutes, as the timekeepers compared their times. It was unanimous; I had run the mile in 3 minutes 58.9 seconds.' In Dublin the following year he ran 3:55.9.
Though I remember with great affection that shining day at the Melbourne University track, it was not that occasion which put Lincoln firmly into my consciousness where he has remained ever since. That crucial day came in March 1970 — though I couldn't vouch for its being the 23rd.
"Once I had conquered