Boris the Cheat

Boris Onischenko

In tennis, have you ever called your opponant's shot 'out' when you knew it was in?

Have you ever started a race before the word 'go?'

And have you ever used a steadying thumb in the egg and spoon race?

Why do we do these things? Simple. We want to win.  And if we think that a dodgy line call, a little head start or a thumb will help us achieve this, then why not? - especially if we can do it without anyone noticing...

...But what if someone did?

Here's the story of one man who almost pulled off the most amazing cheat ever to help him win. But this wasn't any old game or race or sports day against friends. This was the Olympic Games.

It was 1976 and the Olympic Games were being held in Montreal, Canada. At this time, Russia and Great Britain were bitter enemies. A 'cold war' had raged for a number of years between the 'eastern' countries, including Russia, and the 'western' countries, including Great Britain. There hadn't been any physical combat between east and west, but there was tense rivalry over who had the largest collection of nuclear weapons, the most sophisticated technology, the most successful economy and, more importantly for this story - who had the greatest sportsmen and women in the world.

One of the most popular Olympic events at the time of the Montreal Olympics was the Modern Pentathlon. This event had been created by the founder of the modern games, Pierre de Coubertin. It was modelled on all the skills required to be a brilliant soldier in the cavalry.
 
The five events included horse riding, pistol shooting, fencing, swimming and running. Each athlete had to compete in all 5 disciplines. Medals were awarded for the best individual competitors and for the best team effort.

Great Britain and Russia each had very strong teams competing in the Modern Pentathlon. All was set for an Olympic 'cold war battle.' East v West. Russia v Great Britain.

Heading up the Russian team was Boris Onischenko - a half colonel in the KGB - the much feared Russian Secret Police. He had already won medals in the previous two Olympic games, and was regarded highly by all his fellow Olympians - particularly for his fencing skills.

In the British team was a dashingly handsome sergeant in the British army, Jeremy Fox - known as Jim.
It was Jim Fox's 4th Olympic games. In the last games in Munich, he had finished in 4th place in the men's individual event, narrowly missing out on a medal. He and Boris had come to know each other over the years, and despite the rivalry they fully respected each other.

The first event was show jumping, and after everyone had competed, the British team lay in 3rd place with the Russians only 76 points behind. Jim Fox and his team mates had hoped for a stronger lead at this stage because the next discipline was fencing - and this was Russia's strongest event.

The first fencing match was between Jim Fox's team mate Adrian Parker and Boris Onischenko. Adrian Parker was a decent fencer, but his strongest event was swimming. On paper, he was no match for Boris Onischenko who excelled at the sport. No-one expected Parker to get the better of Onischenko, but after watching the match, Fox felt uneasy about the way that Onischenko had beaten his team mate. Something wasn't quite right.

In fencing, competitors score a 'hit' when their sword (epee)  touches the opponant's target area. An electric circuit is completed with each 'hit' and this illuminates a light.

Jim Fox, after watching the match between Parker and Onischenko, was convinced that the light had been coming on and registering a 'hit' when Onischenko's epee hadn't been anywhere near Parker.

When it came to his turn to fence against Onischenko, Fox decided to try something out to see if he was right.
During the bout, Onischenko lunged forwards, arm extended, reaching with his epee for a hit on Fox's body. Fox anticipated the move, and leaned backwards leaving a good 6 inches between his body and the point of Onischenko's sword.

Sure enough, the light came on and a 'hit' was registered to Onischenko.

Jim Fox had seen enough. He asked the officials to examine Onischenko's weapon and they agreed - thinking that perhaps the Russian's sword had been faulty. They sent it away to be checked by technicians and gave Onischenko a replacement. He went on to beat Fox easily and recorded eight wins out of nine matches that day. He was a formidable fencer.

Later that day, to everyone's disbelief,  technicians revealed that Onischenko's sword had been rigged with a push button device. When the button was pressed, it made the light come on registering a 'hit' - even when no contact had been made with the opponant. Whenever Onischenko lunged forward, he'd press the button and the light would come on.

Jim Fox's suspicions were correct. Onischenko had been cheating.

As soon as the news got out, the Russian team were disqualified and Onischenko was sent home in disgrace. Team mates threatened to throw him out of the hotel window, and after a few years, it was rumoured that the talented Russian pentathlete had been banished to the salt mines of Siberia.

The British team went on to win the gold medal after the Russian team's disqualification. Fox needed oxygen as he crossed the line after running the final leg of the cross country that secured their victory.

The British team win gold

British newspapers enjoyed the scandal, and gloated over the team's victory. 'Boris Dis-Onischenko' the headlines screamed, 'Boris the Cheat.'

Jim Fox

It was a good opportunity to get 'one up' in the 'cold war.'

But Fox didn't see it that way. He struggled to understand how a man that he fully respected would cheat in such an extravagant and pre-meditated fashion. He also felt bad that it was he who had unmasked him. The revelations had caused an international outcry, and the man he'd occasionally shared a vodka with had been made to vanish into thin air.

Cheating has always been a part of sport whether we like it or not. It's often motivated by the desire to win, or even from the fear of losing.

The strange thing about the whole Modern Pentathlon incident in 1976 however, was that Onischenko hadn't needed to cheat. He was the best fencer in the competition - and once his cheating sword was taken from him, he proved it.

We'll never know why Boris the Pentathlete became Boris the Cheat. But one thing is for certain - on this occasion, the swindling swordsman was completely out-Foxed.

A Running Battle

Here is a story about an ordinary girl who loved to run. She went on to win international races, break world records and become well known all around the world.

Unfortunately, the event she is most remembered for was one that she would most certainly rather forget.

* * *

It was the first time that a women's 3000m event had been staged at the Olympic Games.

It was 1984, and the stadium in Los Angeles, USA was bursting with over 90,000 spectators.
Many of those in the crowd were American. They were brimming with excitement. Their 'golden girl' of athletics, Mary Decker, was in the final. She looked confident, focussed and determined. She desperately wanted a gold medal as she hadn't been able to compete in the previous two Olympic games. But now, in her own country, in front of so many adoring fans, and watched by people all around the world, this was her chance.

Towards the inside of the track was a small, skinny, awkward-looking girl wearing a Great Britain vest. She was barely noticeable amongst the other runners. But as you looked along the tops of the running shoes pressed up against the edge of the line at the start, she stood out. This girl was barefoot.

The girl with no shoes was Zola Budd. She was 17 years old – 10 years younger than the darling of American athletics that lined up alongside her on the track that day. Mary Decker was her idol. And now, here she was, competing against her in the biggest race of her life.

As the starting gun cracked, the runners set off. Mary Decker glided straight to the front and began to lead the 7.5 lap race. She ran beautifully, smoothly and effortlessly. The crowd roared. They could sense that another gold medal would soon be added to the American haul.

Finding herself in the middle of the pack, Zola Budd gradually made her way towards the front until she was just behind Mary. She didn't look as graceful as her idol when she ran. Her elbows were too high and they stuck out clumsily. But for such a small girl, she could run fast. She had broken world records, and she thoroughly deserved her place in this 3000m Olympic final.

Or did she?

* * *

Zola Budd was born in South Africa. She was the youngest of 6 children. She was particularly close to her older sister Jennie who was 11 years old when Zola was born. When Zola was old enough, she would join her favourite sister running. Both ran barefoot, just like every other child in their neighborhood. They ran over the hills that surrounded their town, enjoying their time together in the cool, early mornings. Zola adored her sister. She was the only person in her family who she could talk to about her feelings.

Zola soon became a good, fast junior runner. She had a coach and she entered local races, but seemed to lack the extra 'gear' to beat her rivals. At this stage, she never imagined making a career from running. She ran because it was what she loved to do.

And then, at 4am on September 9^th 1980, when Zola was just 14 years old, she was woken and told some news that would change her life forever. Jennie, her beloved sister and best friend, had died.

Grief stricken, but unable to talk about her loss or show how she felt, Zola did the only thing she knew that might dull the pain. She took to the hills, barefoot, and ran and ran and ran.

Over the next few months and years, her running soon stepped up a level. She began to win the local races, then national races. And only a few years after Jennie's death, still at school, she became the fastest woman ever to run the 5000m.

It wasn't long before the world began to notice this small, young South African girl. As the Olympic games drew nearer, excitement developed amongst the world's media. “The legs of an antelope,” the British press gushed, “The hottest property in world athletics.”

But Zola was not allowed to compete at the Olympic games. Her country, South Africa, was banned from taking part in sporting competitions around the world because the government had a policy of Apartheid. Apartheid meant that black people were not allowed to mix with white people and this was strongly opposed around the world. As a result, South Africa had not taken part in the Olympics for over 20 years.

Thirsty for the chance to thrust Zola onto the world stage however, a British newspaper approached Zola's father and offered him a deal. Because Zola's grandfather was English, the newspaper promised that they would be able to get Zola a British passport which would enable her to run in the Olympic Games as a British athlete. In return for the exclusive rights to Zola's story, they paid her father £100,000.

As her father glowed with his new-found wealth, Zola arrived in England like a startled rabbit in the glaring headlights of a car. She was now officially a British athlete, but she didn't attract a hero's welcome.

She was booed and jeered wherever she went. 'Go Home Zola!' screamed the headlines in one newspaper. People looked at this small, shy white South African girl and assumed that she would be a supporter of Apartheid. They didn't want her here. She wasn't welcome.

Zola coped with the pressure in the usual way. No longer running because she loved it, but running because she had to.

She won races, set records, and attended interviews and press conferences. Softly spoken and nervous, she was often asked about Apartheid, but she never spoke out against it because she didn't feel comfortable discussing such an enormous political issue. After all, she was only 17. What did she know? She was just a schoolgirl from a small rural town who used to enjoy running with her sister. It was hard enough dealing with the grief of losing her sister in her own world – never mind the wider world.

In the weeks before the Olympics, Zola grew tired of her father's greed and his constant interfering. He did nothing but add to the drama and the circus that followed Zola everywhere, so she told him that she didn't want him there. When his daughter left with her mother for America, he stayed in England, and refused to talk to her ever again.

Most teenagers would have considered a place in the Olympics as the greatest moment of their life. But for Zola, it was completely the opposite. She was surrounded by contraversy, contempt and greed. All she wanted was to get to the Olympics and get it over with.

* * *

Mary Decker was still leading the pack of runners around the 3rd lap. Zola was tucked in just behind on her shoulder. The pace was pretty fast, but both runners looked comfortable.

At the half way stage, the pace slowed slightly, and another British athlete, Wendy Sly moved up onto Zola's shoulder. Zola looked tiny betweeen the two athletes. “The little girl seems to be dwarfed there,” said the British commentator. “They call her the little bird.,” he added.

Because Zola always ran barefoot, she preferred to be out of harms way by being in the front or at the back. It was at this point that Zola decided to make her move to the front. She passed Mary Decker and after a few metres cut inside to take the lead. There wasn't much room between the two runners, and Mary clipped the back of Zola's left foot, knocking her off balance slightly. Contact happened again, and this time Mary clipped Zola's calf with her shoe. As Zola tried to regain her balance, Mary made contact again, but this time she fell – ripping the number off Zola's back as she tumbled to the ground.

As it dawned on the spectators that it was their golden girl rolling around on the infield in agony, there were gasps and screams.

“Mary Decker is out of the race!” the British commentator spluttered, “Little Zola Budd may have clipped in too soon.”

Mary Decker looked to be in a lot of pain as she lay on her side, clutching her thigh. The race continued as officials rushed to attend to the stricken athlete. The crowd watched on in disbelief.

Zola had extended her lead slightly after Mary fell, but then, seeing her idol wailing and crying as she ran down the home straight, she suddenly realised the enormity of the situation. She also started to become aware of the crowds reaction. To her horror, tens of thousands of people were booing and jeering, and it was all directed at her.

Over the last few laps, Zola drifted further and further back. Athletes passed her easily. Any desire she had to win the race evaporated as the American spectators made their feelings heard. She was frightened and lonely. She had nowhere to hide.

Zola finished in 7^th place, and as she left the stadium with its hostile crowd, she came across Mary Decker in tears in the tunnel. She went across to apologise – sorry that the race had turned out the way it had.

“Don't bother!” she cried angrily, “I've got nothing to say to you!”

At the press conference later, struggling to hide her anger, her bitterness and tears, Mary said that Zola was to blame for her fall.

Zola was disqualified after the race, but then the decision was overturned after race officials examined the video tapes and decided that she wasn't to blame.

None of this mattered to Zola any more, though. Traumatised by the experience and in receipt of death threats, Zola and her mother were escorted by the police to the airport runway before flying back to London.

Zola's Olympics was over with, just as she had wished, but the story of the race rumbled on for many years afterwards with the videotape played over and over again.

Should Zola have been at the Olympics? Was Zola to blame for Mary Decker's fall?
Whatever anyone thinks, this young, talented South African girl's only real crime was that she could run.

* * *

Zola continued to represent Great Britain for a few years after the Olympics. She even competed against Mary Decker again, finishing fourth – 13 seconds behind the athlete that once took pride of place on a poster in her room.

In 1992, Zola qualified for the Olympics in Barcelona. This time she ran for South Africa. Apartheid had been abolished, and her country was allowed to compete on the international stage again. She failed to make it to the final this time.

“I never strived to be the best in the world,” she said in an interview. “I just ran every day, just ran.”

Zola ran with joy when she was with her sister Jennie. She ran with grief when Jennie died, and then she ran because she was made to run by those who fed off her talent.

Mary Decker, meanwhile, went on to have a fantastic few years of competitive running after the 1984 Olympics, but she failed to win a medal in 1988 at Seoul and didn't qualify for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.

She still struggles to agree that Zola was not to blame for the incident that sent her crashing out of the Olympic 3000m final.

To this day, Zola is still running, still barefoot, still carrying her elbows too high. Nowadays though, she doesn't run for joy, nor grief, nor a need to please others. She runs to be at peace.