Usain Bolt - The Times Magazine
When he’s not breaking records, the lanky Jamaican sprinter just wants to have fun. By Mark Bailey
Usain Bolt looks angry. “I was due to be on a date with a beautiful girl right now,” he says in a gruff, leonine rumble. It is 8pm on a Friday and the 6ft 5in athlete has finally lolloped into the sports hall of St Mary’s University College in London, where we’ve arranged to meet.
This is the city where Bolt trains secretly each summer, away from the heat and temptations of Kingston, Jamaica.
“My night is ruined now,” he sighs, collapsing into a chair. Then he glances up, grins and unleashes a deep bass chuckle. “No, no, no,” he giggles. He’s joking. I think..
Bolt normally is joking. The sprinter’s record-breaking performances at the 2008 Beijing Olympics and the 2009 World Championships in Berlin earned him a place in history, but it was his showboating, as he mock-groomed his eyebrows with moistened fingers and unleashed a repertoire of dancehall jigs, that secured him his fans’ affection.
“I need laughter,” he says. “I have my friends to joke with, and my parents make me laugh. When I visit them, we laugh all weekend. I have the same friends as when I was young. We’re always joking and playing pranks. We Jamaicans don’t take life too seriously.”
Even in an empty sports hall in Twickenham, Bolt, 24, brings a languid Caribbean vibe to proceedings. He slumps in his chair as if it’s a hammock strung up between two palm trees. His assistant, NJ (a friend of Bolt’s from primary school), is dozing face down on a trampoline. Bolt startles him with a torrent of Jamaican patois. This is Usain St Leo Bolt: lackadaisical, cheerful, mischievous.
“You know, people should open up more,” he says. “It would be boring if we didn’t show our personalities. When I entertain the crowd before a race and dance and have fun, they like it because they are getting to know who I am. I’m a pretty laid-back, fun guy.”
This isn’t cockiness, but vivacity. “We are very proud people – the proudest race in the world. We brag about everything – the best beaches, the best music. We’re so proud, we even brag about the bad things. If I’m c**p at something, I’ll brag about that, too.”
As a child, Bolt, who grew up in rustic Trelawny, about 90 miles northwest of Kingston, was confident (his sprinting coach, Pablo McNeil, never divulged Bolt’s times on his stopwatch, to keep the boy grounded) and troublesome, but the effervescence he shows today is supported by an invisible scaffolding of family values and strong relationships.
“My dad was very strict,” says Bolt, recalling the “ridiculous” curfews imposed by his father, Wellesley. “That helped me, though it did make me want to rebel. My parents taught me respect and honesty.”
When discussing personal subjects, his voice drops as if he’s embarrassed, and he seeks refuge in humour. “True story: my father taught me to say ‘good morning’ to everyone in the countryside, but there was one woman who never said ‘good morning’ back. One day, I said, ‘To hell with you, this is a waste of time.’ That evening, when I got home, she was at my house. Dad grabbed me and I got my ass whopped.”
As a boy, he tired of the religious services he attended with his mother, Jennifer, a Seventh Day Adventist – “I had to walk a mile and a half home in the midday sun. I hated it” – but says he thanks God for all he has achieved. Below the surface indiscipline and laziness, you’ll find wholesome intentions.
Bolt possesses divine physical gifts. Powered by an extraordinary number of fast-twitch muscle fibres, he broke the world record for the 100 metres, 200 metres and 4 x 100 metres relay in Beijing, then reset his two individual records 12 months later at the World Championships in Berlin. He hopes to make history again in London, but it hasn’t always been like this. At the 2004 Olympics in Athens, he failed to get past the first round and was ravaged by injuries between 2005 and 2006. “The newspapers in Jamaica killed me,” he recalls. “I learnt to focus on doing things for myself, not anybody else.”
This traumatic period led him to seek the help of Glen Mills, the Jamaican sprint guru who turned him into a superstar. Mills discovered the source of Bolt’s injuries – he suffers from scoliosis, a curvature of the spine – but his greatest achievement was recognising that discipline was kryptonite to Bolt’s superpowers. “He does enough,” is Mills’s assessment of Bolt’s training.
They’re an odd couple – lanky, playful Bolt and squat, bespectacled Mills – but it works. “He understands I can’t follow a training regime like other athletes – it’s just not me. That’s why we work well. He knows I might miss a training day, but I will come good.”
Bolt craves excitement. When he’s not training in London, he lives in Kingston. “Life is just more exciting with other people,” he beams. But his heart remains in Trelawny.
“It’s boring, but I like it. If I’m stressed, I go there for the weekend, breathe in some fresh air and I’m good. I hang out with my parents and we just sit around playing dominoes. I love it. It’s relaxing and makes you think.”
But he’s not ready to settle down yet. “Guys shouldn’t get married too young. I want to focus on my career with the Olympics in 2012, but then I will be ready for a family. I definitely want children, though I need to find the right girl first.” Night is falling and a large posse of autograph hunters has assembled outside. Bolt won’t be meeting her tonight.
(C) The Times
Link: https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/usain-bolt-the-fastest-man-on-two-legs-tp2rq6fh6gw