Louis Zamperini, in Devil at My Heels:
CONGRATULATORY WIRES POURED in from family and friends. Not only had I proven a point for Pete and myself, I’d made the Olympic team. Those who didn’t qualify were gentlemen, congratulating us and bidding us a good time in Berlin. No emotion, just Godspeed. Today it’s different. Someone who doesn’t make the team might weep and collapse. In my day no one fell on the track and cried like a baby. We lost gracefully. And when someone won, he didn’t act like he’d just become king of the world, either. Athletes in my day were simply humble in our victory. I believe we were more mature then. Today’s athletes have more muscle and better physical-fitness programs, lighter shoes and faster tracks— but some still can’t win or lose cheerfully. Maybe it’s because the media puts so much pressure on athletes; maybe it’s also the money. In my day we competed for the love of the sport. Performance-enhancing drugs could be had, but no one wanted to win unfairly or damage his health. In my day we patted the guy who beat us on the back, wished him well, and that was that.
[revisiting this in 2011, age 94] We had a single soccer ball for four or five blocks’ worth of kids; you were lucky if you got to kick it once. We had free time to burn. Distractions? Radio, yes, but no TV. Movies were only once a week. We were happier than people are today, despite the hard times. We overcame adversity and each time we did we enhanced our hardiness. We also knew how to win and lose gracefully. When I was a young runner, I went undefeated for three and a half years. But I knew that this winning streak could not go on forever, that some day I’d lose. So I asked myself what kind of loser I wanted to be. I decided that I’d handle it with grace. Four or five months later the day arrived. When another runner won the race I went over and congratulated the man. The runner’s family and girlfriend embraced me. Today losing teams stare at the ground. Just once I’d like to see the losing coach walk over and congratulate the winning coach.
On the subject of free lunches, When Louis Zamperini was captured by the Japanese he was not provided free lunches. He didn’t die!
He didn’t take steroids or EPO and such because they didn’t exist quite yet. I don’t think it’s any sort of moral superiority. Athletes of that era did in fact use amphetamines. As soon as steroids were available in the 50s they rapidly spread in certain athletics and hollywood. But it took a couple decades for the knowledge to reach certain disciplines.
When he complains about excessive celebration and sulking in competition, that has come about roughly in proportion to black participation in elite athletics. Blacks are just more expressive. I think the fans and viewers much prefer the ebullience to stoicism. And ultimately it’s show business.
Looks like a good book. What made you want to read it after reading Unbroken?
Mitch: I’m always interested in first-person accounts of experiences that are better to read about than to repeat and certainly Hillenbrand made Zamperini sound interesting.