On the Sunday before Halloween, I filed into the third row of a church service in the small basement of a coffee shop in downtown D.C. Normally I wouldn’t make my way halfway across the city to attend a sparsely populated contemporary Christian service, but that night I was about to hear one of the greatest athletes in American history speak.
After the speech, I and a handful of other athletes attending the church for the sole purpose of hearing the talk made our way to the miniscule stage to shake his hand and gush over his presence. It was an once-in-a-lifetime experience, but something about the talk just seemed wrong.
How can a man who is the greatest American to have ever played his particular game only attract a few fans for a public appearance in the basement of a coffee shop?
Sure, marathoner Ryan Hall and his wife, Sara (a gold medalist in the Pan Am Games) had only announced their appearance on Twitter that day, but this does not seem like a large obstacle when one considers how quickly the word is spread when the Caps’ Alex Ovechkin is spotted downing drinks in Rhino. When considering that only 11 men — all from Africa — have ever covered 26.2 miles faster than Hall, it is amazing that only a few college-aged runners showed up to meet a living legend. After all, if Michael Jordan were to give a speech in McDonough Arena, how early would Georgetown students begin to line up for the chance to see “His Airness”?
This is not ignoring the gap in revenue produced by running and basketball. It would be foolish to even pose the argument that Ryan Hall should be compensated in a way comparable to LeBron James or Alex Rodriguez, seeing as thousands of fans turn out to see these superstars. However, it is far from foolish to expect a little bit more support and fame for the fastest American of all time.
Hall’s lack of fame is mostly promoted by sports media outlets like ESPN. While Hall is training in the mountains of northern California, far from any kind of media exposure, LeBron James is making an appearance on SportsCenter while riding a bike in Akron, Ohio. After finishing the Boston Marathon in two hours and four minutes, Hall received a small article linked on the corner of ESPN’s website. Of the articles currently gracing that section, one is a story on a trio of Georgia running backs who tested positive on a recent drug test and will not be available to play for New Mexico State.
Based on publicity alone, 21st-century America places the same importance on the lifetime of dedication and training it takes to run a marathon in two hours and four minutes (a time once again achieved by only 12 men in the world, including Hall) and a failed drug test for three football players preceding what will surely be a nonconference slaughter.
This is the system that needs to be changed, but you’ll never hear runners like Hall demand it. During his entire talk, he never once complained that he’s never graced the cover of Sports Illustrated or that poker receives more airtime than track and field. Instead, Hall spoke of how amazing of an opportunity it is for him to pursue his dreams, and he seemed to be genuinely enthused to meet every single fan that night.
Distance running will never gain the following that sports like baseball and basketball have because of its very nature. For anyone less than a devoted fan, it’s almost painful to watch men take the exact same steps for over two hours. Nearly any sports fan can sit back and appreciate the drama of Game 6 of the 2011 World Series, but only an exciting sprint finish in a major distance race can garner any kind of excitement in an running event (as the “Duel in the Sun” proved).
That’s not to say that these men don’t deserve recognition, just that they face a natural barrier — the lack of stimuli in watching their sport. In a world where an average sports fan can name about five NASCAR drivers, it’s not a stretch to think that an elite runner should be widely known.
As I stood in front of the fastest American runner of all time and rambled embarrassingly, I couldn’t help but notice the genuine smile Hall possessed. It’s almost the nature of being an anonymous hero; you still appreciate every time you hear that you’ve inspired anyone. Hall doesn’t necessarily want a spot on the cover of Sports Illustrated, he’s just happy to live out his dream. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve the accolades that should come with his success.
Corey Blaine is a junior in the McDonough School of Business. The Bleacher Seats appears every Friday.
