Greek sporting legends

Book Review – Ultra Marathon Man: Confessions of an All-Night Runner by Dean Karnazes

Posted by barneyspender on July 17, 2014
Posted in: Book reviews, Books, Greek sporting legends, Running, Sport. Tagged: , , , , . 4 Comments

ultramarathon-manSelf-help books are all the rage. Titles like How to Write a Blog (must read that one when I get time), How to Be a Better Lover (yes, that one too) and How to become a Millionaire (all essential reading it seems) clutter the Amazon “To Buy” list; all of them are based on the idea that we all have the capacity to do anything, we just need to spend a few quid on a book and it is instantly within our grasp.

Well, if you are going to shell out a few bucks on a book that will help remove the scales from your own self-imposed limitations then it is Dean Karnazes’ Confessions of an All-Night Runner (2005).

The reason it works is because Karnazes hasn’t written a self-help book. He has, however, in his approach to ultra-distance running – that is any distance beyond the 42.2 kilometres of a marathon – offered up a template for anyone looking to shake off the shackles they place around their own abilities.

“There’s really no mystery to what I do. It hurts me just as bad as anyone else. I’ve just learned an essential insight; your legs can only carry you so far. Running great distances is mostly done with your head … and, as Benner (Cummings, first cross-country coach) taught me twenty-five years ago, your heart. The human body is capable of amazing physical deeds. If we could just free ourselves from our perceived limitations and tap into our internal fire, the possibilities are endless.”

Karnazes is a Greek-American from California. After turning his back on a promising running career when he was in college, he rediscovered the joy of running on the night of his 30th birthday. A premature midlife crisis perhaps as he realised he had been trapped by the corporate lifestyle and had lost touch with his inner self.

Stripping down to his underpants and throwing on a pair of old sneakers and under the light of a silvery moon, Karnazes began to run. Seven hours and thirty miles later in Half Moon Bay, he found a payphone and rang his wife Julie, asking for a lift home.

That night opened the tap. He remembered that he liked running. And running long.

“In the course of a single night I had been transformed from a drunken yuppie into a reborn athlete. During a period of great emptiness in my life, I turned to running for strength. I heard the calling and I went to the light.”

He began competing in the Western States Endurance Run, 100 miles through unforgiving mountainous terrain.

“Although the task seemed incredibly difficult, at least the rules of engagement were clear. There were no hidden meanings or mixed messages. Just run, and don’t stop. If I made it 100 miles I’d succeed. If I didn’t, I’d fail.”

Badwater-127-degrees-300x199

Karnezas following the white line in Badwater – the tarmac melts your shoes (Dallas Morning News)

Facing the heat, crossing mountains and rivers, running through the night wary of the potential threat of a mountain lion, feet bursting with blisters, muscle spasms and a severe case of nyctalopia or night blindness, it wasn’t exactly a Fun Run. Certainly not what you need as you struggle under a starless sky along a trail with brush flashing in your face and the prospect of slipping down a steep sandstone embankment. Which is what happened.

Karnazes dogged it out, at one point literally crawling up the trail, and crossed the finish line in 21 hours, one minute and 15 seconds.

“Covering 100 miles on foot was more than a lesson in survival, it was an education on the grace of living.”

Karno then takes us through the agony of Badwater, a 135-mile run through the vicious heat of Death Valley which left him collapsed in a heap after 72 miles.

“It was pure unadulterated defeat. But what I came to realise on the drive home was that I’d loved every second of it.”

He would return to Badwater, winning it in 2004 and chalking up another five top-ten finishes.

Looking for more challenges he went on to run the first South Pole marathon – this time it was the frostbite that nearly finished him off – and then did the 199-mile Relay from Calistoga to Santa Cruz in 46 hours. Each challenge offering new insights into what his body and his mind could take.

Karnazes may not go down in history as the greatest ever ultradistance runner – anyone would be hard pushed to match the astounding feats of the Greek athlete Yiannis Kouros – but he will go down as a runner with as tough an  inner core as you could hope to find. And an approach to running that translates well into an attitude towards life itself.

©Barney Spender 2014

Follow me on Twitter @bspender

 

Pistol Pete: the Greatest Greek on Court

Posted by barneyspender on October 13, 2013
Posted in: Greece, Greek sporting legends, Sport, USA. Tagged: , , , , , , . Leave a comment
High-flying Pete Sampras won 14 Grand Slam titles in a stellar career

High-flying Pete Sampras won 14 Grand Slam titles in a stellar career

The older generation will stick by Rod Laver, the moderns will point to the exceptional abilities of Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. For those in the middle it has to be Pete Sampras.

Whether he was the greatest tennis player of all time is, of course, open to lengthy kafeneio debate. Would Laver have been even better with modern kit, diet and training? Would Rafa have been quite at home with a wooden racket? Who knows? But there can be no doubting that Sampras is up there with the very best.

And of one thing there is absolutely no doubt at all: ‘Pistol’ Pete Sampras is the greatest Greek-heritage tennis player ever. Don’t even try to argue that one.

Seven Wimbledon titles, five US Opens and two Australian Opens gave Sampras 14 Grand Slam victories between 1990 and 2002. At the time it was a record, breaking the 13 of Roy Emerson who competed before the Open era which allowed professionals to play. Federer has since claimed the record for himself but for over a decade Sampras dominated the game.

Others had their moments – Andre Agassi, Boris Becker, Jim Courier and Pat Rafter among them not to mention the queue of Spaniards who flourished at Roland Garros where Sampras never ruled – but the Greek kid was the measure of brilliance and consistency against which all others were measured.

Sampras in Athens for the first time in 2007 (AP Photo/Thanassis Stavrakis)

Sampras in Athens for the first time in 2007 (AP Photo/Thanassis Stavrakis)

Sampras was born in Washington DC on August 12, 1971 and grew up in Palos Verdes, California, an American kid with a big, fat Greek heritage. Actually not just Greek.

“I’m 75 per cent Greek, 25 per cent Jewish,” he has said. “My dad’s Jewish. My mom was born and raised in Greece. She’s 100 per cent Greek. My dad’s mother was Jewish but his father is Greek. That’s where we got the Sampras name. A Greek Jew.”

His mother Georgia arrived in the US at the age of 25 and ensured that he and his three siblings received an education that was steeped in Greek culture. She instilled in him the spirit of Leonidas, the strength to fight on and never give up.

It ain't pretty but it works; Sampras clears the system before returning to the court

It ain’t pretty but it works; Sampras clears the system before returning to the court

The best illustration perhaps came when he beat Alex Corretja at the 1996 US Open after vomiting on court during the fifth-set tiebreaker in the quarter-finals. After spilling his guts, Puking Pete went on to reach the final where he claimed his fourth US crown.

“I’m a bit like my mom as a competitor,” said Sampras during an interview in 2007 when he returned to Athens for a veterans’ tournament.

“That toughness, dedication, competitiveness, to leave your homeland and not speak a word (of English). That’s where I get a lot of my toughness, deep down in my belly.”

Surprisingly, he never learnt the Greek language. Nor did he ever visit his parents’ homeland while he was at the peak of his powers. That trip in 2007 when he was 35 was his first to Greece.

“I’m here to explore my heritage more. I’m proud to be here for the first time,” he said before beating Todd Martin in the final.

Sampras began playing at the age of seven and adopted the Australian legends Rod Laver and Ken Rosewall rather than the big name Americans of the time as his early heroes.

“It wasn’t just the way they played but how they carried themselves off court. They were humble. (Jimmy) Connors and (John) McEnroe were both great, but they were, how shall I put this, more abrasive.”

Thoughout his career Sampras upheld that humble approach. He never roared and screamed at his opponents or the umpire. A fist pump was about as expressive as he got which may have been why many tennis fans never truly took to him. Many consider him a boring player.

His on-court activity was languid between points, the stooping, slightly hunched shoulders, the permanent five o’clock shadow, but once settled, ready, he was the big cat, preparing to pounce into action. His service was perhaps his greatest weapon. Economical in movement but unerringly fast and accurate, it was the reason for his nickname Pistol Pete. Sheriff Sampras, quick on the draw.

The running forehand was also impressive, the best in the business and at its most effective on the faster courts. Perhaps that was why he never enjoyed the slow kicking surface at Roland Garros, the red clay taking the pace off the ball.

youngsampras12

Sampras impressed at the National Junior Championship when he was still only 12

He turned professional at 16 and then slowly worked his way up the rankings. In retrospect it is easy to finger two years which were to raise him to the heights. The first was in 1990 when he won his first Grand Slam at Flushing Meadows and the second was three years later.

Beginning the year ranked 81 in the world, the Sampras game began to come together as he won his first ATP event in Toronto beating McEnroe on the way. In New York, he was seeded 12.

“I arrived at the US Open as an outsider,” says Sampras. “No one realistically thought I would have a chance to go really deep in the draw, let alone win it. I think the experts figured I wouldn’t play that well and that I was going to roll over.”

He worked his way through to the quarter-finals where he gave away a two-set lead before beating Ivan Lendl in five. Then in the semis he came up against four-time winner McEnroe again.

Seventeeen aces and an array of passing shots proved too much for the 31-year-old and sent the 19-year-old Sampras into the first all-American final since McEnroe beat Vitas Gerulaitis back in 1979.

He was up against Agassi who admitted in his autobiography Open that he expected to win easily, having demolished Sampras a year earlier.

At 19, Sampras became the youngest ever winner of the US Open. Agassi (with hair) looks appalled

At 19, Sampras became the youngest ever winner of the US Open. Agassi (with hair) looks appalled

“Then a different Pete shows up. A Pete who doesn’t ever miss. We’re playing long points, demanding points and he’s flawless. He’s reaching everything, hitting everything, bounding back and forth like a gazelle. He’s serving bombs, flying to the net, bringing his game right to me. he’s laying wood to my serve. I’m helpless. I’m angry. I’m telling myself: this is not happening.”

But it was happening. Sampras trounced Agassi 6-4 6-3 6-2. He hit 13 aces and won 92 percent of the points off his first serve. He was on the road, the youngest man ever to win the title at age 19 years and 28 days.

it was to be another three years, however, before he collected his second Slam. And he needed to lose a final first – the US Open in 1992 when he was beaten in four by the experienced Swede Stefan Edberg.

“It changed my whole mentality, when I kind of gave up in that fourth set,” he said later.

“I just promised myself I would never let that happen again. I knew exactly what I wanted. I wanted to stay number one. That 1992 loss to Edberg was the wake-up call that I needed to really figure this thing out.”

Sampras winning Wimbledon for a record seventh time in 2000

Sampras winning Wimbledon for a record seventh time in 2000

Figure it out he did, heading to Wimbledon where he triumphed in four sets over Courier to win his first Wimbledon title.

It was the start of an extraordinary run at the All England Club that saw him lose just once – to Richard Krajicek in 1995 – in eight years.

Following his win at Wimbledon, Sampras then marched on to victory at Flushing Meadows and established himself as the best player in the world for the remainder of the millennium.

He was to be number one in the world for a then record 286 weeks in all, 102 straight from April 15, 1996, to March 30, 1998.

Sampras' parents Georgia and Sammy applaud as Pistol Pete beats Pat Rafter in the 2000 Wimbedon final

Sampras’ parents Georgia and Sammy applaud as Pistol Pete beats Pat Rafter in the 2000 Wimbedon final

At Wimbledon in 2000 Sampras, battling injury, won his seventh and final All England title, breaking Emerson’s record of 12 major victories when he beat Pat Rafter in four sets.

“It was pretty painful, I almost had to withdraw from the tournament,” said Sampras. “I got injected (with cortisone), but it was raining and it wore off. I remember just the pain, just getting through it, toughing it out.”

His final triumph fittingly came at Flushing Meadow in 2002 when he again beat Agassi, the man he had beaten 12 years previously for his first victory. He didn’t play again before announcing his retirement a year later just before the 2003 US Open.

As a little footnote to all this individual glory, Sampras was also a member of the team that won the Davis Cup in 1992 and 1995. Sadly it was the US team rather than a Greek team but we won’t hold that against him.

© Barney Spender 2013

OTHER GREEK SPORTING LEGENDS
George Peponis           Rugby League     The Greek who skippered the Wallabies
Michael Katsidis            Boxing                  Katsidis aiming for Hatton’s Achilles heel
Ex-King Constantine     Sailing                  The Last King of Greece
John Traicos                 Cricket                  A Greek Spin on Test Cricket
Angelo Argea                Golf                      Hats off to Greece’s Golfing Legend

George Peponis: the Greek who skippered the Kangeroos

Posted by barneyspender on November 13, 2012
Posted in: Greece, Greek sporting legends, Rugby union, Sport. Tagged: , , , , , , . 3 Comments

George Peponis was the first non-Australian born player to captain the Kangeroos

One day I will get around to writing a short history of Greek rugby. It will be littered with tall tales and brave deeds; of incompetent stewardship, tedious infighting and, beneath it all, a deep love of the game.

One chapter will be given over to some of the Greeks who have played the game at the highest level in other parts of the world.

It may not be the weightiest chapter in the book as the list is not particularly long. Indeed, the biggest names have come not in rugby union but in rugby league.

The latest are the two Australian pro players Michael Korkidas and Nick Kouparitsas both of whom have played for the Greece rugby league team in Australia and in Athens when they beat Serbia in 2006.

But the totem remains the great George Peponis, one of the outstanding figures in Australian sport whose time at the top was brief but brilliant.

Peponis, who will be 60 next year, only played eight times for the Kangaroos between 1978 and 1980 but he captained them in five of those and inspired them to their first ever 3-0 whitewash of Great Britain.

On the domestic front he also skippered his Canterbury team to their first Winfield Cup since the 1930s.

“That year, 1980, is about as good as it gets,” he told me. “But the thing is that both Australia and Canterbury were good teams. Without good teams, the captain is nothing.”

Peponis stems from farming stock. His grandfather worked the land in Levidi, near Tripoli where George was born in 1953 but it was not enough to sustain the family. When he was just eight months old, his family left for Australia .

“It was a really tough time for them. My dad had four brothers and two sisters but it was just after the civil war and there was not a lot of work about.

“Grandfather just said: ‘you better go overseas’. He put us on a boat without a word of English and no contacts.”

Unlike most Greek immigrants to Australia at the time, the family landed in Sydney rather than Melbourne and it was there that George’s love of the oval ball began.

“My dad’s philosophy was that sport keeps you off the streets so he was all for it.”

His preference was always for league over union. Playing as a hooker, he soon found himself playing junior representative rugby and then in 1974, while trying to pay his way through medical school, he was made an offer by Canterbury.

Peponis began with Canterbury in 1972: it is a relationship that has lasted a lifetime

“Because we weren’t that well off I also had to work in a bar in the evenings and at a service station at the weekend,” he says.

“But Canterbury came along and offered me a sporting scholarship. They told me to give up the other jobs and they would pay me the difference. To be honest, I would have done it for nothing.”

And so began his rapid rise to the heights of the game.

Within two years he was in the New South Wales side and would have been first choice for Australia had they played any Tests in 1976.

Instead he had to wait another two years before making his debut. On June 24, 1978, Peponis ran out at the Sydney Cricket Ground for the opening Test against New Zealand.

It was triumph. Australia hammered the Kiwis 24-2 and Peponis produced a storming debut.

“I played pretty well, scored a try and was named man of the match. Yeah, it was a pretty decent start.”

Unfortunately, he was suspended for fighting in a Canterbury match the following week and so missed the rest of the series. He then went on the Kangeroos tour to Britain where, after missing the first two Tests through injury, he came in for the decisive third Test and scored a try as Australia clinched the series.

Given his success in getting Canterbury to three successive finals, it was entirely reasonable that when Bob Fulton retired after the tour, Peponis should be named captain for the series with Great Brtian in 1980.

“I knew I was in the frame because I was captaining Canterbury,” he says.

“And once or twice during the tour Bob had asked me to sort out some differences between two sets of players because he knew that I got along with both factions.

“There were certainly guys more experienced than me but I think the federation was looking for bit of an overhaul. Captaincy is not just about what you do on the field it’s about how you conduct yourself off it as well.”

Peponis was the first person born outside Australia to be given the captaincy.

“I was having dinner with my parents at the rugby club when I heard. It was a bit of a shock but quite an honour.

“My parents were obviously very proud and it meant a lot to the Greek community as well. There is a Levidi Association in Sydney and they held a big function to honour me. And it gave a lot of prestige to the Greek children which may have helped them to establish themselves.”

“You know, I never set out to be a representative of the Greek community, I just wanted to play rugby. Everything else was a by-product.”

The series was a triumph for Peponis as the Kangeroos blew away the opposition. He led them to two more Test victories against New Zealand giving him a perfect five from five record as captain before it all came to an end.

A series of neck injuries interrupted his career and in 1982, at the age of 29, he retired. Since then he has had a very successful medical practise and until February 2010 was chairman of the Canterbury Bulldogs.

Hopefully, his story goes some way towards proving that Greeks were, indeed, born to play with the oval ball.

©Barney Spender 2012

Versions of this article have previously appeaned in Athens News and sportingreece.com

Katsidis aiming for Hatton’s achilles heel

Posted by barneyspender on September 27, 2012
Posted in: Greece, Greek sporting legends, Sport. Tagged: , , , , . 1 Comment

The Greek warrior Michael Katsidis could be the man to stand between Ricky Hatton and a successful return to the ring

Boxing loves a comeback, the high drama of the scarred and weary warrior clambering through the ropes in a bid to win back his crown. Wiser in life but older in body, desperately trying to wind back the clock. At stake? The chance to be the champ or the risk of being the chump. There is nothing in between. It is no wonder that Hollywood loves the ring.

The latest in line is the British fighter Ricky Hatton, the former WBA (Super), IBF and IBO light welterweight champion and WBA welterweight champion.

“It’s more than a comeback,” said Hatton. “I’m fighting to redeem myself.”

Already 33, beaten to a pulp by Manny Pacquaio in his last fight three years ago, it really doesn’t make sense.

The Mancunian, though, is immensely popular and any fight that does go ahead is sure to put bums on seats and make a few bob through the broadcasters. Will it matter who else is in the ring with him?

Some names are already being bandied about for the November bout, the favourite being the all-action Greek-Australian Michael Katsidis.

Katsidis is almost the same age as Hatton, he is 32 now, but he is one of those fighters who has operated around the fringes of the very best. Yes, he has won two interim lightweight world titles but, hand on heart, he has never truly been the best in his division.

Katsidis was all power and aggression against Ricky Burns but came up short of the title

Katsidis has won 28 of his 34 fights, 23 by knockout but four of those six defeats came in his last five fights, including a defeat by WBO lightweight champion Ricky Burns at Wembley Arena in November.

Like Hatton, who has suffered from alcohol and cocaine addiction and has admitted he contemplated suicide, Katsidis also has his skeletons. A decade ago, he served an eight-month stretch in jail for assault and two years ago had to deal with the death of his brother Stathis, a successful jockey.

It would certainly be an entertaining fight – although also quite a risky one for Hatton as he faces a man who cites Achilles as his touchstone.

“My father is from a village called Aetoraxi near to Larissa in Thessaly, the homeland of Achilles,” he told me in an interview in 2010, before Stathi’s death.

“It is important I mention this because it gives the people from there so much happiness and they are my blood.

“Katsidis is Pontian. Those that are alive today are said to be fighters because they survived through the war.”

Katsidis’ father was just 16 when he sailed to Australia with his mother and father, Maria and Kostantinos, to join up with his six siblings.

“My father was actually working in a small country town Moree where he met my mother who is Australian. After Stathi was born, mum and dad moved up to Toowoomba to be with my Australian grandparents.

“Stathi and I went to English-speaking schools and I grew up all of my life in Toowoomba which is predominantly Anglo-Saxon English-speaking people.

“Apart from visiting our relatives in Greece once a year, I missed a lot of the Greek culture when growing up. We spoke English at home. But I fight the way I do with my heart on my sleeve as a tribute to my heritage.”

Katsidis takes his Greek heritage very seriously, here showing off the Vergina Sun

Katsidis doesn’t just wear his Greek heart on his sleeve. He enters the ring wearing a Spartan helmet and has a tattoo of the Vergina Sun on his back.

“I feel I am fighting for my country and for my heritage, something I am very proud of. The rest doesn’t matter. No matter what culture or creed you are, it is what strength you can draw from within yourself to achieve your goals which is important.

“It is inspiring that my bloodline is from the homeland of Achilles. The sun I wear on my back is that of Alexander the Great.

“These are forces to be reckoned with and that is what I strive to be every time I go out and fight.”

Katsidis even draws the analogy of Achilles to mothers.

“My mother told me before I left for America to be very careful,” he says.

“I had a choice that I could stay home and get a job and settle down. Or I could go overseas leave everything behind and chase my dreams.

“Don’t laugh but this is the same as what Achilles mother said to him before he left to go and join the Greek armies in Troy. He died in battle but will be remembered till the end of time.”

Achilles mother Thetis attempted to make her boy immortal by dipping him in the sacred waters of the river Styx. But as she did so she held him by the heel, leaving one vulnerable spot in the body of Achilles. It was to prove fatal.

Who knows if Ricky Hatton will find Katsidis’ achilles heel – or vice versa.

©Barney Spender 2012

The Last King of Greece

Posted by barneyspender on July 24, 2012
Posted in: Greece, Greek sporting legends, Olympics, Sport. Tagged: , , , . 1 Comment

The 20 year old Prince Constantine skippered Greece to their first Olympic gold medal in 48 years

In over 20 years as a hack, I have been fortunate to have talked to and interviewed a variety of people – from politicians such as Nelson Mandela to actors like Harvey Keitel and Stephen Berkoff; from poets like Michael Longley to athletes such as Pele and Usain Bolt. But I have never interviewed a king. At least not until recently.

All right, so King Constantine is technically not a king any more although there is something just a touch Monty Pythonish about calling him an ex-king.

But that is what he is. Crowned in 1964, he fled from Greece to exile in Rome in 1968 after a botched attempt to launch a counter-coup against the military junta that had taken over the country the year before.

When democracy was restored in 1974 the people of Greece – many of whom held Constantine largely responsible for the rise of the vicious regime of the Colonels in the first place – voted to end the monarchy and become a republic.

Since then he has lived in London. Don’t feel too sorry for him. He is not sweeping the roads or living off benefits. A home in Hampstead and an office in Grosvenor Square around 100 metres from the Greek Embassy in Upper Brook Street.

In January, I travelled to Grosvenor Square to interview him about the gold medal he won for sailing at the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome when he was a dashing young crown prince, just 20 years old.

With the low winter sun, Grosvenor Square looked a picture so long as you stood with your back to the US Embassy which runs along one of the short ends. It is brieze-block ugly with imposing black gates running around the perimeter; protection against the bombers they say. How it was ever allowed to be built in such a lovely London square is anyone’s guess.

As I waited in the lobby for the summons. I gave my notes one last glance and realised I was slightly nervous. This is not normal for me but it had more to do with not quite knowing the royal (or ex-royal) protocol.

PRELIMS

When I had first contacted his office, I had asked for an interview with Constantine. It had been returned to me with a polite note asking if I could rewrite the request referring to the ex-King as His Majesty. Having done so, it was passed on to him.

In my subsequent correspondence with his PA, I had asked about royal protocol but received no specific guidance. Should I collapse on bended knee and grovel before his regal self? Doff a forelock? Kiss his ring? (or is that only popes?). Do I call him Sir, Your Majesty, Your Ex-Majesty? Kyrios?

I had also wondered what I should wear, in the end going for the Greek formality of black suit and no tie. I was intending to wear a crisp white shirt but having arrived in London the night before, I discovered rather disconcertingly earlier that morning that said shirt was still hanging in my cupboard at home. So, it was a thin black fleece. Not perfect but given Greek fashion, not totally out of place for a shaggy, middle-aged-trying-to-be-hip hack.

By the time I was given the nod to proceed to the second floor, these thoughts had drifted away on a headwind of sailing and military coups.

The Last King of Greece as he is today

After five minutes of waiting, I was called through to meet the king. Protocol looked after itself as he reached out a hand and we shook firmly, looking into each other’s eye. I was relieved to find that he wasn’t sporting a crown, nor even a suit. Just a decent pair of trousers, a jacket and open shirt.

“Would you like a coffee?” he asked.

“I would love one, thank you.”

“How do you take it?”

“White with no sugar please – unless of course there is any chance of a frappé – in which case I will have it metreo me gala.”

Frappé is a cold coffee invented and much loved in Greece – perhaps because it is the best way they could find of using condensed milk in coffee in the days when fresh milk was something of a luxury. I always liked mine with the milk and a touch of sugar.

“These are Greek words…,” he said letting the sentence drift.

Sadly, it wasn’t possible to rustle up a frappé – but the point had been made (and acknowledged) that I knew a little bit about Greece and its culture.

It was an easy interview in the sense that he had plenty to say and didn’t object to my interruptions, sometimes to clarify a point or to expand on a point.

Occasionally he went off on tangents and these I allowed for as long as I thought was relevant and polite before bringing him back to the subject in hand.

PREPARATIONS

The ease with which he qualified for the Games and then prepared might raise an eyebrow or two these days.

In brief, he decided on the spur that he thought “it might be fun” to go to the Olympics so decided to train in equestrian. His father, King Paul, soon put a stop to that.

“The king sent for me and said: ‘what are you doing?’ I said I was training for the Olympics. ‘Not on a bloody horse, you’re not. I only have one son. Go and get yourself married and have some sons and change sport. Do you really want to go to the Olympics? Then try sailing.’”

And so he did. He won a place in the one boat – a Flying Dutchman – that was going to the Games but then the Navy bought two Dragon class boats for the cadets to use. He effectively commandeered one and pulled in a couple of naval officers, Odysseas Eskitzoglou and Giorgos Zaimis, to crew for him. He was 20 at the time.

And so they qualified for the Games simply because it was the only Greek Dragon to enter.

In terms of preparation, he went for the very best, summoning the legendary Danish sailor Paul Elvstrom to come to Naples for a trial event and help him learn.

“He turned up in Naples and I asked him what he wanted to do, whether he fancied some sightseeing. ‘Sailing,’ he replied.

Paul Elstrom; four-time Olympic champion and tutor to the prince

“He nearly drive me crazy in the boat. But he taught me to concentrate from the gun right through to the line and not to watch any of the other boats but to focus on every single wave. I didn’t know where any of the others were. We passed the first mark 300 metres in front of the second boat and finished third out of 40 or 50. I was quite pleased.”

But the Dane soon burst his bubble of content.

“At the end he turned to me and said: ‘you realise you are a lousy sailor’. But we came in third, I said. ‘That’s because I told you what to do.’ What do you suggest? ‘Six to eight hours every day in the boat until the Games.’

“I said, ‘I can’t do that, I have too much else going on. Try telling the king that’.

“So that is what he did. Elvstrom was very direct. He said the same thing to my father who was a very calm and wise man and knew a bit about sailing. He asked me if I wanted to do it and when I said I did, he said OK.”

Elvstrom, incidentally, really is a legend in the sailing world. He competed in eight Olympics, the first in 1948, the last at the age of 60 in 1988, winning four gold medals on the way.

THE GAMES

“The Games themselves were wonderful,” he says. “I had to make all the decisions on what kind of schedule I should keep and, well, I was a bad boy. I arrived three weeks in advance and the nightclubs were very appealing. I would get up at lunchtime, sail in the afternoon and then go to the nightclubs all night.

“One week before the sailing began, I gave up the cigarettes, the alcohol and the nightclubs. Then I set myself a curfew. Into bed at eight o’clock every night and into the water early. We worked hard and peaked for the Games.

“At the tiller, I found my concentration was wonderful, able to steer over every wave.

“At the opening ceremony, I had the honour of carrying the Greek flag. It was an amazing experience to go first through the long tunnel where there was a little water fountain where I drank with the Afghan flag bearer. And into the stadium in front of the Italian people…I was chatting with the Afghan quite happily until someone else came along and took the flag away from him. It was the Afghan Minister of Sport who decided he should carry it.

“When they let the doves go one of them let loose right on top of the minister; the whole Afghan team and Greek team were roaring with laughter.”

Greece’s Olympic standing by 1960 was pretty low. Gone were the glory days of the 1896 Games when Spiros Louis ran himself and the Marathon into sporting history.

Greece had achieved just one medal since 1920 – and that was a bronze for Giorgos Roubanis in the pole vault in 1956.

“I was delighted for Roubanis but it never occurred to me that I might be at the Olympics. There was no television, just radio so people didn’t give it too much thought.”

The last gold medal was 48 years earlier, back in 1912, when Konstantinos Tsiklitiras triumphed in the standing jump.

But the omens were good in Naples.

“We were lucky because Naples was very similar to Faliro; the same waves, the same reaction to the wind. It wasn’t an alien environment.”

The first race, though, had been poor as he completely messed up the start.

“I was ready for the perfect start; the nerves were jangling but in that excited way, we were in a good position but we were there a minute early so we had to go round again and that left us a lot to do. We made the first mark in ninth and finished ninth but I realised that we had good speed.”

Constantine’s optimism was almost sunk by a protest from Japan but he came through the inquiry by one vote – and things began to improve. In the next eight races they weren’t out of the top four, winning once. It left them in pole position for the gold medal going into the final race.

Constantine, though, got an unwelcome reminder of the near half-century that Greece had had to wait for a gold medal.

“The night before the final race, I was walking on the quay and a journalist shouted across that the last gold medal was 50 years before and, basically, don’t mess it up. It affected me instantly, I was overwhelmed by this weight of expectation. I went below for a cigarette. I needed a good hour to collect myself.

“If the Italian crew had won that race and we had finished out of the top three, then they would have won the gold medal. So, we just had to follow him and stop him from getting too far away.”

The Greek boat did finish outside the top three, in fourth, but the Italians were unable to win the race and had to settle for bronze with Argentina nipping in to take the silver.

“I didn’t really understand the noise when we finished. Every boat was hooting; my parents and my sister were cheering… there was champagne but I can’t stand champagne.

On the podium; Greece take the gold, Argentina the silver and Italy the bronze. Crown Prince Constantine shakes hands with the Italian Antonio Cosentino

“The medal ceremony is still very vivid. It was given to us by the President of Italy (Giovanni Gronchi)…up on the podium, the national anthem…it was a feeling second to none – except getting engaged

“There was so much excitement in Greece. My father received the crew and myself, we laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, driving up Sygrou Avenue it seemed like there were millions of people.”

Elvstrom, incidentally, Constantine’s mentor, made history in Rome by winning a fourth successive gold medal, this time in the Finn class.

There was a touch of disappointment, though, for Constantine’s sister Sofia who was the substitute for the Dragon and Star class. She didn’t get a race and missed out on a medal.

“I made a little bracelet for her after the Games, in the same shape as the medal.”

Two years little she married a young Spanish prince called Juan Carlos and since 1975, she has been Queen of Spain.

He didn’t know it at the time but Constantine’s Olympic career was over – at least as a participant.

“I intended to go to Tokyo but my father died on March 16 and I got married on September 18. I didn’t have any time for the Olympics.”

Sadly his gold medal is no longer in circulation.

“It disappeared when we left, when the Colonels moved into the Athens palace. Maybe it is still there somewhere.”

A QUESTION OF PERCEPTION

I had been allotted half an hour for the interview. By the time we got to the end of the Olympics, I had been there for over an hour. And still he wasn’t finished as he began to talk about maybe writing a book one day.

“You should definitely do it,” I said. “I am afraid you have a problem of perception in Greece. When I told some of my friends that I was coming to interview you, some were very happy, others were less kind. You should tell your story, the whole truth and nothing but.”

He paused and looked at me. I wasn’t sure he would be happy to hear this but, hell I had my interview down, I might as well tell him as it is.

“Perception,” he mused. “Yes, the Greek people do not know me. They have never heard me. I have never been allowed to speak to them. Just once on television…”

We chatted cosily about the current problems of Greece. He didn’t seem too keen to leap back into the hotseat although there was undoubtedly an undercurrent of regret that he was no longer the megali tyri – or ‘big cheese’ as they say in Grosvenor Square.

Before we finished he insisted on showing me the family paintings. The one of his grandfather King Constantine commanding troops during the Battle of Ioannina in the Balkan War, another of his grandfather at a counsel of war.

“You see this fellow here, leaning over the table, that is Prince Andrew, Constantine’s brother…the father of Philip, the Duke of Edinburgh….oh and this one over here is our house in Corfu, that is where Philip was born….and this is my boat which won the gold medal….”

For a moment he was lost in reverie, surrounded by history of which he was a part. History as in past tense, rather than present or future. That must be difficult for a man to come to terms with. Sure, you can do all the jollies of the International Olympic Committee or the International Sailing Federation but these are fripperies when set alongside the loss of a crown.

The Histories, signed in Greek and English by the Last King of the Greeks

“Just one other thing,” I asked him. “I am not sure about the protocol on this so please don’t take any offence…but I was wondering if I could ask you to sign a couple of books for me.”

“Of course,” he said. “In Greek or English? Or both?”

After an hour and 40 minutes, we shook hands once again, this time in farewell.

I had my interview in the notebook. And I was chuffed that he had not only signed my book of the Ancient Olympics – which has also been autographed by Ed Moses, Michael Johnson and Ioannis Melissanidis, gold medallists all – but he had also scratched his name across the title page of my edition of Herodotus’ The Histories.

It seems fitting to have it signed by the last king of the Greeks.

©Barney Spender 2012

A Greek spin on Test cricket

Posted by barneyspender on June 27, 2012
Posted in: Cricket, Greece, Greek sporting legends, Sport. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , . 3 Comments

ImageWhen it comes to talking about the giants of Greek sport, we inevitably look first at the worlds of basketball and football.

Once upon a time, it would have been possible to say athletics and weightlifting as well but the recent pandemic of doping cases has rather obliterated that idea, at least for the moment.

Cricket, though, is never mentioned in these debates which is a shame because Greece has produced two Test cricketers – Xenophon Balaskas and John Traicos – and another, Nic Pothas, who has played one-day internationals at the highest level. All of them played for South Africa.

Balaskas played nine Tests in the 1930s, taking nine wickets at Lord’s in 1935 to beat England. He also hit a century in New Zealand for good measure.

Pothas kept wicket in three one-day internationals in 2000. He then decamped to England and became a very successful captain of Hampshire. There has been talk of him playing for Greece but that remains up in the air.

In between them is John Traicos. Actually, let’s say that again. Between them is Yiannis Athanasios Traicos, an off-spin bowler who is best known for holding the record for the longest gap between Test matches – 22 years and 222 days

Before the doubters get stuck into Traicos’ Greek credentials let us set the record straight – from the horse’s mouth.

“My father Tryphon Traicos was born in Lemnos in 1900, one of five brothers,” he says.

“He was sent to Egypt at the age of 12 to work in his uncle’s business and lived there until he migrated to Southern Rhodesia in September 1948.”

Traicos’ mother was born in Egypt but her family originates from Kalymnos. So, Greek on both sides.

Yiannis was the second son, born in Zagazig in 1947, a year after his brother Takis, but obviously his father’s move to Fort Victoria [now Masvingo] in what is now Zimbabwe produced a major shift in cultural influence. Out with the tavli and in with the cricket.

“Our family life was Greek orientated with us speaking Greek at home particularly to my parents and my grandmother and enjoying all the lovely Greek meals spiced with garlic and gravy,” says Traicos who now lives in Perth, Australia.

“Gradually our ability to speak Greek declined as we attended English speaking schools and did not have the opportunity that other Greek children in Salisbury [now Harare] enjoyed of attending Greek schools.”

With it came another brother, George, and a change in name.

“In Fort Victoria, I was known as Naso – derived from Athanasios –  a name that led to a lot of teasing particularly because of Gamal Abdul Nasser, the Egyptian president,” he says.

“I decided that those nicknames and others such Tike and Trike were inappropriate so from the time I went to university, I started using the name John as my first name.”

Traicos started playing cricket, inspired by his cousin Peter and coached by Neil Jardine – a former rugby international – and then at Natal University by the great South African all-rounder Trevor Goddard.

He even had some guidance from Balaskas in 1966.

Image

Xenophon Balaskas took nine wickets at Lord’s and hit a century against new Zealand

“He was a tremendous bowling coach. He was particularly supportive of me because we were both of Greek heritage.”

His progress as an off-spinner was rapid. He was selected for the South African Universities tour of England in 1967 and then made his first-class debut for Rhodesia against Transvaal B in Salisbury the following year.

“It was a very inauspicious debut – no wickets and I dropped a few catches,” he laughs.

Within two years, though, he was rubbing shoulders with some of the game’s very greats. There are many people who still insist that the South Africa side which destroyed Australia in the 1969/1970 series was one of the finest of all-time.

Barry Richards, Graeme Pollock, Eddie Barlow, Ali Bacher, Peter Pollock, Lee Irvine, Mike Procter….

“My selection for South Africa surprised everyone especially myself – I think that I was extremely fortunate to be picked,” he says before emphasising the impact of the series.

“Playing test cricket for South Africa at the age of 22 was an unforgettable experience. I have many fond memories of that series and of sharing a dressing room with some of the great cricketers of that time.

“The overriding memory I have of the 1970 team is of a very happy and confident group of cricketers that had come of age in terms of international cricket, were extremely well led and determined to play positive winning cricket.”

South Africa took the series 4-0. By his own admission, Traicos had an “average” series, taking just four wickets at a touch over 50.

“I bowled reasonably tightly during the 3 tests I played in 1970 although on a couple of occasions I was briefly hammered. Getting Keith Stackpole lbw in the second innings in Durban was enjoyable.”

Image

Nic Pothas: 3 ODIs for South Africa, now coaching Greek players

The boycott of South African cricket spelt the end of his international career – at least until1980 when Rhodesia became Zimbabwe.

At that point, Zimbabwe were not considered strong enough to play Test cricket but they did compete in the one-day World Cups, sending out shockwaves of seismic proportions when they beat Australia in 1983.

In their next game they had India on the ropes at 17-5 before Kapil Dev smashed a rapid 175 not out. Enough said.

Zimbabwe’s fine record in one-day internationals finally saw them raised to Test status in 1992.

At the age of 45 years and 304 days, Traicos returned to Test cricket as Zimbabwe hosted India at the Harare Sports Club. He produced his best return of 5-86, his victims including Sachin Tendulkar, Mohammed Azharuddin and that man Kapil Dev.

“Playing test cricket again was a wonderful experience and especially fulfilling because I had a dream test taking five wickets against a really good side.

“Things went my way and I was fortunate that some good catches were held by Grant Flower at slip and Kevin Arnott at bat pad.”

Traicos played another three Tests before his professional work as a company director became too great and he stepped down.

Now living in Australia, where he emigrated in 1997, he can look back on a highly successful cricket career, one of the finest to come out of Greece.

©Barney Spender 2009

The Traicos File

Born: 17 May 1947 in Zagazig, Egypt

Tests: 7 – 3 for South Africa (1970) and 4 for Zimbabwe (1992-3)

Bowling: 18 wickets (avge 42.72)

Best: 5-86 v India, Harare 1993

ODIs: 27 for Zimbabwe

This article first appeared in the Athens News 7 August 2009