Monday, Jun. 17, 1946

Hagg's Rabbit

The latest Swedish miler intends to compete for only two years. He expects the long awaited four-minute mile to be run within that time, and he intends to be on the field that day, chasing or being chased.

Two years ago when Lennart Strand was 22, he did not realize that he was a runner of promise. Just out of the Swedish Army, he heard that famed Gunder Haegg lived in the same block and volunteered to work out with him. He entered a few races, proved to be a first-rate pacesetter and gradually became known in Sweden as "Haegg's rabbit." One day, the rabbit turned on the dog; Strand was in front of Haegg at the finish line. Paavo Nurmi exclaimed: "The most outstanding runner I have ever seen."

Fortnight ago Haegg's rabbit arrived in Manhattan, a lanky fellow with lean, muscular legs, a squirrel's face and an antelope's lope. Like most Swedish trackmen he was in sad need of a haircut. He knew a little English but said he had already learned the "Indian language" (uh-uh; uh-huh; huh). He knew all about U.S. jazz (he plays the piano, violin and banjo by ear). In Manhattan, Strand listened to Swingdom's blind piano player Art Tatum, his favorite, then went off reluctantly to California. But the Swedish speedster, a printer by trade, did not forget what he came over for.

Like most Norse runners, Strand prefers practicing on soft ground or a pine-needled trail rather than on a cinder track. Although he brought three pairs of Swedish shoes with him because he thinks U.S. track shoes are inferior, Strand ran two miles twice a day in his bare feet. Last week he made his U.S. debut.

His opposition in the 1,500-meter run at Compton College was not topflight, but Strand's time was. (Like Glenn Cunningham, he races against himself.) He ran, as usual, with both palms up, fingers curled --as though he were holding a glass of water in each hand. At the finish Strand was yards in front, unhurried, and two-tenths of a second off Les MacMitchell's meet record of 3:51.4. He might not run the four-minute mile at the San Antonio A.A.U. championships this month, but U.S. tracksters already regarded him with brooding respect. Haegg's rabbit would be hard to beat.

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