by Rob Hadgraft
My reading has taken me to strange places recently, away from books on how to train or running form to athletics history. The story of how a tradition of specialist (professional) runners/footmen/pedestrians, which had gone back centuries, was supplanted by an ideal of amateur sport, which then crumbled at the edges before collapsing to be replaced by our current system of professional athletes, is fascinating.
On its own the way the amateur sporting ideal became dominant is worth further study. I know little about it apart from it being class based, and springing directly from the ideals of the Victorian English gentleman. The idea that you should only play sport for love and honour and never for any other reward is something that only makes sense if it is seen as character building. It does not recognise sport as a worthy endeavour in its own right or a way of life, and even skirts with the notion that training properly could be a touch unsporting. Yet there is no escaping the fact that to become good at a sport (in any era) requires time and dedication. The obvious consequence of that is that those who would excel would be those only those with wealth enough to spend their own time freely.
Yet there is something about running that can escape these constraints. Because it is such a basic activity, something we all do as children and it is something that can be enhanced with other aerobic activities, it is possible for someone how has led a hard active life from childhood to discover a natural talent, even fairly late in life.
The story of Alf Shrubb is a fascinating example
He was born in 1876 and grew up in Horsham where he started out as an apprentice carpenter and building labourer (work that would include carrying bricks up a 30 rung ladder). On top of that he liked the outdoors and the countryside and would run to follow the local foxhounds but thought nothing of it. The turning point was a haystack fire, in 1899, 3 miles outside Horsham and the entertainment, common at the time, of following the fire engine (that sort of thing just doesn't happen now, we are far too sophisticated. In the age Facebook all that is needed is for the next door neighbour to post a photo). He found himself running with the captain of the local athletics club who struggled to keep-up. He was therefore encouraged him to join the club and on joining the Blue Star Harriers immediately started winning races.
A year later he easily won the county 4 mile cross country, where he was watched by Thomas Sinnott from the South London Harriers and the coach Harry Andrews, who later reported: "Shrubb was then a little black-nobbed fellow who ran like a startled deer and I told Mr Sinnnott, whose club he eventually joined, he was something out of the common".
I love Victorian understatement. He was so out of the common he went on to dominate distance running and over his amateur career set world records at: 2,000 yards, 1.25 miles, 1.5 miles, 1.75 miles, 2 miles, 4,000 yards, 3 miles, 5,000 metres, 4 miles, 5 miles, 6 miles, 10,000 metres, 7 miles, 8 miles, 9 miles, 10 miles, 11 miles as well as the one hour record. I can think of no modern equivalent who has that range.
From 1 mile to 15 miles he was supreme but that didn't stop him being criticised by the previous great champion, Walter George. (in the same way old cricketers sit in the Test Match Special box and shake their heads at the modern players and say "I just don't know what's going on down there"). Alf Shrubb liked to go out fast and establish an early lead after which his pace would vary and he would surge and relax, seemingly on a whim, according to how he felt. There was a freedom in his running that others saw as tactical naivety. Walter George was convinced that the only proper way to run was his way ie to conserve energy, run an even tempo and be fresh for the end. He therefore thought Shrubb was all over the place and lacked discipline.
It only goes to show there is more than one way to run and each person should follow the path that suits their temperament but sometimes people who have found success with one method find it impossible to recognise that theirs is not the only way. That is still true today.
Alf Shrubb's way of training was light by the standards of today's distance runners . He mixed speed work with walking (for endurance) but importantly raced very frequently, often several races in one day. As the races were all over the country is was obvious that a builder could not afford to do this as a strict amateur (there are rumours he asked for pianos as prizes, which could be sold through a relative's piano shop).
This brings us right back to the rigid code of amateurism and how even travel expenses were forbidden. The AAA didn't want him to accept an invitation to tour Canada but negotiations over tickets still took place and so he was investigated and banned. The thing is that up to a point people would have turned a blind eye. His club fixed him up with a trainer and obviously supported him in a number of ways that were not strictly allowed. So it is an example of the tangled mess amateurism caused: athlete and club covertly against the governing body.
Such battles often leave an individual feeling aggrieved. To this day I don't think there has been a time when the people on the ground, running and coaching have felt that the administrators are really on their side.
I think I like reading these books - one can enjoy the specifics of a bygone era and look at how things have changed.
P.S. If you want more information there is a website dedicated to him here
P.P.S. Forgive the presumption of the title. It should be "Probably the best runner I had never heard of". I should never assume other people share my ignorance. Very bad form!
