A Dress Rehearsal for Lewis et al.

By Tom Callahan

In Los Angeles, the trials that time men's bodies

In the blinking sunshine and swirling breezes of Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, clean and cheerful if never more than one-third full, the US. Olympic track-and-field team was determined last week in a stirring celebration of more than Carl Lewis, but Lewis most of all. Before a man can win four gold medals, he must qualify in four events, and Lewis did this with a flourish, though without posting any records. Fragile Sprinter Evelyn Ashford's gold-medal ambitions declined from three to two. Hurdlers Edwin Moses and Greg Foster rejoiced. Mary Decker found out she could run only as far as the law would allow. And a wound-up Methuselah named Ed Burke took a 16-lb. ball by the chain, swung it and flung it, and spun something wonderful.

Fortified by Sister Carol's special chicken curry with rice, chauffeured by his father Bill, cheered by his mother Evelyn (when she could bear to watch), only Lewis, 22, seemed unawed by the regimen of so many heats under so much pressure. "I'm not saying it's easy," he announced at the outset, "but it's attainable. I'm ready to roll." He won the 100-meter dash in 10.06 with his familiar finishing crescendo, over Football Players Sam Graddy of Tennessee and Ron Brown, soon of the Los Angeles Rams. So the 4 X 100-meter relay team was set, too, in this likely order: Graddy leading off, Brown the second leg, Calvin Smith the third, Lewis the anchor.

Without straining, he won the long jump by about a foot and a half (28 ft. 7 in.) and turned to the 200-meter run. "I'm still a novice in the 200, as compared with the 100," he said, after burning through the curve in 19.86 and then kissing the track like an explorer. Kirk Baptiste and Thomas Jefferson, who finished second and third, expressed the situation clearly when Baptiste said, "I hope I can finish second in the Olympics," and Jefferson advised, "The closer you get to Carl, the better your chances will be."

Tom Tellez, who has coached Lewis for five years, observed, "Carl has taught me that the human body is an amazing machine and that the mind and its awareness are such important things. This is the closest I've seen him come to being perfect. He's on the edge of something phenomenal in all of his events." Said Lewis: "I was always relaxed as a sprinter, but I didn't understand it. Coach Tellez taught me the importance of relaxation in competition. It's realizing when you hit full speed that you only have to maintain."

The second most compelling figure at the trials was Ashford, 27, who has dominated sprinting in this country since 1977 but was hamstrung for the 1980 trials and also broke down during the Helsinki World Championships a year ago. Her resolve is stony: "I want to do all the commercials. I want fame and fortune." But her 5-ft. 5-in., 115-lb. body is made of china. "If you sharpen a pencil point so finely," says Leslie Kaminoff, Ashford's physical therapist, "it can break."

Against her coach's inclination, she ignored a twinge in her right thigh to go on and win the 100 meters, ensuring a place on the 4 X 100 relay as well. "The reason Evelyn has so many problems," says Coach Pat Connolly, "is that she's at a new speed plateau. She is able to run faster than ever, but her hamstrings can't take the strain." Kaminoff treated the Injury with an Electro-Acuscope, a mysterious contraption related to Eastern acupuncture used by Sports Sociologist Jack Scott in reviving Joan Benoit before her victory in the marathon trial. Encased in tights, Ashford had to pull up in her 200 qualifying heat after 70 meters. An alternative favorite, Chandra Cheeseborough, also dropped out (to rest a pulled hamstring), leaving first in the final to Valerie Briscoe-Hooks. Cheeseborough earlier ran a U.S.-record 400 (49.28), and expects to be well enough to take her mark in that race at the Games.

Mary Decker made light work of her 1,500-and 3,000-meter heats, but lost her legal argument that, in fairing to provide women with 5,000- and 10,000-meter opportunities, the Games unfairly discriminate. Said dissenting Court of Appeals Judge Harry Pregerson last week: "The Olympic flame, which should be a symbol of harmony, equality and justice, will burn less brightly over the Los Angeles Olympic Games." But Decker jogged on. She qualified for the team by easily winning the 3,000 and seemed likely to staff the 1,500 as well.

Moses is still seven years between losses. Starting from the outer lane, he won the 400-meter hurdles (47.76), a 102nd consecutive success. "It's been a terrific mental tussle this week," he said, "putting up with the pressure of all the hype about the streak." Still he seemed as cool as ever, as his wife Myrella testified. "He's really blase about the streak," she confided. "He says, 'If I lose, then I lose. I'll just go out and start another streak.' Me? I'd be devastated."

As usual, devastation was well represented at the trials. "We're leaving home Andre Phillips," Moses said with a sigh, referring to the world's second-ranked 400 hurdler, who happened to have a head cold and finished fourth. After the race, Phillips chucked his shoes into the infield in disgust. He had been doing well. "He's running 48 seconds," Moses said. "It's tough." American Heptathlon Record Holder Jane Frederick inexplicably failed at the high jump and was out. The 800 meters had two unexpected casualties: Don Paige and James Robinson. There is a quadrennial argument against do-or-die trials in favor of committee selections. But it might be recalled that when two eminent U.S. hurdlers faltered in the 1976 trials, a particularly golden moment of the Games was provided by one of the three outsiders, Edwin Moses.

More than just an upset, the 800-meter race was the most stirring event of the week. It became a photo finish, and four men made the picture. Earl Jones, 20, an Eastern Michigan University sophomore, set a killing pace and somehow held on against Johnny Gray, who was awarded the same 1:43.74 American record time. "I knew the pace would take a lot out of Robinson and Paige," said Jones. "I'm strong, and I have the speed." The third and fourth places were also assigned the same time (1:43.92), so John Marshall made the team and Robinson missed it by a heartbeat. Marshall of Villanova gave thanks to an assistant coach there, the same Don Paige who wound up fifth.

A glaring controversy was the javelin competition, which began a little after 5 p.m., when the spear throwers complained that a fellow could lose his Olympics in the sun. Duncan Atwood noted, "It was sort of like having a flash go off in your face just as you released." Mel Durslag, a Los Angeles historian for the Herald Examiner, recalled that similar worries were heard in 1958 when the Dodgers wanted to put home plate in the Coliseum's east end. A man from nearby Arcadia proposed floating a giant balloon over the west rim, thereby shading the batter's eyes, but then someone else thought of moving home plate. Deciding not to wait for any logical reversals, Atwood taped on a pair of sunglasses and beat World Record Holder Tom Petranoff, 306 ft. 7 in. to 278 ft. 8 in. "There is now a new world record," Petranoff said pointedly, "for throwing into the sun wearing sunglasses."

In one of the few references to the Communist boycott, Atwood added, "If I win a medal [in the Olympics], I should mail it to the East Germans, who really deserve it. I probably wouldn't do anything that extreme, but that's where my sentiments lie."

When 47-year-old Discus Thrower Al Oerter wrecked his calf three weeks ago and abandoned his quest for a fifth gold-medal Games, sentiment took a tough loss. But it rebounded marvelously in the person of Hammer Thrower Burke, 44, the singular delight of the trials. His motto: "We must not step off life's parade." A veteran of the 1968 Olympics, Burke retired for twelve years, patented a hydraulic weight-lifting machine and sold it for $2 million. Five years ago, his two teen-age daughters helped him scrub the rust from the old ball and chain in the garage. They sent him off to the trials with a Father's Day card that opened up and played the theme from Rocky. With a toss of 235 ft. 7 in., Burke finished third to Bill Green and Jud Logan. He made the Games.

Celebrated Pole Vaulter Billy Olson did not, but he was of good cheer. Mindful that his indoor sessions are better, Olson said, "Maybe in 1988 I should go out for the Winter Games." Former U.C.L.A. Star Mike Tully, 27, performed the tallest vault by any American in history, 19 ft. 3/4 in., and the first of his three subsequent attempts at a world-record 19 ft. 3 3/4 in. looked rattlingly close. Spectators were enjoying the thought of Soviet Record Holder Sergei Bubka opening his U.S.S.R. Today the following morning and receiving the news. But Tully came no closer.

He had reached the peak he had set out for, "to have a good time and make the Olympics." Tonie Campbell, who followed Foster in the 110-meter hurdles, exclaimed, "Being an Olympian is better than landing on the moon!" Al and Jackie Joyner, a triple jumper and heptathlete, went in as a family entry. Carol Lewis was hoping to make it two brother-and-sister teams in the long jump. For the Lewis family, the wind on the Coliseum floor was the only ill omen. "If there were flags out there on the runway," Carl said, "they'd all be blowing a different direction. It will be real hard to jump here unless we have a miracle and the wind decides to blow one way." But, as World Record Holder Bob Beamon (29 ft. 2 1/2 in.) might tell him, miracles are not unknown in the long jump. --By Tom Callahan. Reported by Steven Holmes and Melissa Ludtke/Los Angeles

With reporting by Steven Holmes and Melissa Ludtke/Los Angeles