How the Irish defeated the best of Britain at 1908 London Olympics

Forced to declare for America, they took revenge for not having their country recognized

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John J. Hayes

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It didn’t matter that none of the British reporters had been close enough to the action to really describe it accurately – if any of them had any such intention in the first place. There had been an eyewitness standing just inside the track on the final turn, however, Ray Ewry of the New York Athletic Club, who had won both the standing high jump and the standing broad jump, was standing at the final turn when the alleged foul occurred. He saw Carpenter drift wide but make neither a diagonal run nor throw elbows. “I thought Halswelle lost his head,” said Ewry. “He had the option of going either on the inside or the outside of Carpenter, but apparently could not make up his mind what to do.”

Carpenter said much the same thing. “I certainly ran wide, as I have done every time I have been on the track. Halswelle had lots of room to pass me on either side. We just raced him off his feet and he could not stand the pace.”

When the race was rerun, Halswelle was the only participant. Robbins and Taylor had refused to run unless Carpenter was allowed to compete also. Halswelle’s “winning” time was nearly two seconds slower than Carpenter’s. Halswelle had his gold medal, but the American Olympic committee gave special medals to Carpenter and Robbins – for first and second place.

While the battle over the 400-meter race was raging, the 200-meter final was held. Irish-born Canadian Robert Kerr won by inches over Bobby Doughen, a New York City schoolboy and member of the Irish America Athletic Club. In 1909 Kerr returned to Ireland – his family had immigrated to Canada when he was seven – and fulfilled his dream of competing for his native land in an international event.

Off the track, the British were continuing their duplicitous ways. The rules for the tug-of-war explicitly stated that participants must wear everyday footwear, and that “no competitor shall wear prepared boots or shoes.” Nonetheless, when the British arrived to pull-off against the Americans, the British competitors, policemen from Liverpool, were found to be wearing specially constructed heavy boots with steel rims around the soles.

The Americans protested, but British officials responded by declaring that the boots were everyday footwear for the Liverpool bobbies. After slipping and sliding on the wet ground and losing the first of the scheduled three pulls, the Americans gave up in disgust and withdrew from the competition.

British unfairness finally backfired on them, though, in the quintessential Olympic event: the marathon. Fifty-eight runners, including six Americans, began the race in front of Windsor Castle on a muggy day. More than 100,000 spectators filled the Olympic stadium some 26 miles away.

Three English runners raced to the front and alternated in the lead for the first 10 miles. Meanwhile, a little-known American was carefully pacing himself back in the pack. John J. Hayes, the 19-year-old son of Irish immigrants and member of the Irish American Athletic Club, was clocking effortless six-minute miles with teammate Mike Ryan. Only 5’4” and 125 pounds, Hayes seemed only half the size of the big weight men, Sheridan, Flanagan and McGrath. Nonetheless, Hayes was well built, wiry and strong. He had the heart of a lion and was one of the most popular members of the American team.

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