Back row, left to right: P.J. Leddy, Neil Cusack, Eddie Leddy, Kevin Breen. Front row: Frank Grealy, Ray McBride.

“I wanted to run it with the shamrocks across my chest.”

That’s what the only Irish winner of the Boston Marathon said.

That runner was Neil Cusack and the year was 1974, and he had a dilemma. He was a senior for the East Tennessee State University Buccaneers, the team that paid his way to the race and gave him training and racing opportunities that he might not have had back in Limerick. Ultimately he decided to pay homage to his homeland by sewing a shamrock emblem to his string vest and in Boston that made him a de facto Bostonian. As a bonus, his time of 2:13:39 was an Irish national record and earned him a place on the European Championships team.

Taking 7th, 1st, and 3rd at the NCAA cross country championships from 1971 to ’73, Cusack was the best long-distance Irishman at ETSU but hardly the only one. The ’72 team finished as runners-up, just nine points away from winning it all, and all six men on the starting line hailed from the Emerald Isle. The team was dubbed the “Irish Brigade” (a nod to the Civil War’s 10th Regiment Tennessee Volunteer Infantry, which fought for the Union under the same moniker).

Behind Cusack’s first place in 1972 there was Eddie Leddy in third and his brother P.J. in 15th, both from County Leitrim. Kevin Breen (Birr, County Offaly) was 95th, Frank Grealy (Ballyhaunis, County Mayo) was 104th, and Ray McBride (Galway) was 173rd, all also fellow Irishmen. More came both before and after ’72, more than 40 in all, such as former Irish marathon record holder Louis Kenny and nine-time Irish cross country champion Seamus Power. The greatest of them all was two-time Olympian Ray Flynn, whose 3:49.77 from 1982 still stands as the Irish record.

So how did they get to such an out-of-the-way place as Johnson City? And why? It was all because of Dave Walker.

Walker coached ETSU for 50 years. Originally from Massena, New York, on the US-Canada border, he came to ETSU as a football lineman and a thrower. After a brief gig at an Atlanta high school he returned to ETSU for a masters degree, took the head track coaching job, and never left. Like coaching legends Bill Bowerman and Joe Vigil, he became a top distance running coach despite lacking the personal experience of running himself.

In the late 60s Walker had a chance encounter with Brendan O’Reilly, a top Irish high jumper, singer, and TV personality who had competed for Michigan in the early 50s. O’Reilly helped him recruit Dublin jumper Michael Heery, and the connections began. His ability to keep bringing Irish recruits across the pond for decades depended on his reputation, and Walker was known as a man who cared deeply about his athletes and got the best out of them.

Walker’s teams made 14 straight appearances at the NCAA cross country championships from 1970 to 1983, a record for a single coach at the time. Possibly even more important was his role in constructing ETSU’s “mini-dome”, which opened in 1977 and hosted major indoor meets such as the USAir Invitational, a pro-oriented stop on the IAAF’s indoor Grand Prix circuit in the 80s.

Southern Appalachia seems an odd place for a bunch of Irish runners until you realize it’s almost just like home: hilly, green, damp, and rural. Virtually all of the Irish Brigade hailed from the countryside and they found Johnson City familiar. The area is also heavily of Scotch-Irish descent, and Flynn noted “we shared a heritage and were welcomed here with open arms”. Cusack might argue about that a bit—he once crossed paths on a run with a shotgun-wielding hillbilly—but then again, runners of all stripes were considered weird in 1971 no matter where you were, but had become part of the east Tennessee landscape by the end of the decade.

St. Patrick’s Day is a much bigger deal in the USA than in Ireland because it was historically a way for the Irish diaspora to come together in a new land. For much of the last two centuries it was a poor country that many left whenever an opportunity came, such as running for ETSU. “In 1970 I went to church in a horse and buggy, ” said one member of the Irish Brigade. “That’s how far behind the times it was.” One prime example was Tommy McCormack of Robinstown, County Mullingar.

In 1973 McCormack finished 20th in the World Cross Country Championships junior race, and that attracted scholarship offers from ETSU, Washington State, and Arkansas. He knew nothing of any of these universities but knew Kevin Breen, then the #3 man for Walker’s Buccaneers, and decided he’d join the Irish Brigade at ETSU. After signing his letter of intent the local newspaper carried the triumphant story of a local boy seeking success in the States. But he was poor, like almost everyone else. He and his family didn’t have the money for daily living expenses left uncovered by the scholarship, and certainly not for traveling all the way to Tennessee, so he decided he couldn’t go. A second newspaper article followed with the sad news.

A few days later on a Saturday morning two men appeared at his door and asked if they could come in. They introduced themselves as town commissioners and they’d heard about his trouble. They’d made the rounds the night before at all of Robinstown’s pubs and bars, passing the hat for young Tommy McCormack. They emptied a sack of money on the kitchen table, and off to Johnson City McCormack went.

Some of the Irish Brigade returned to Ireland; Power took over his father’s dairy farm, Neil Cusack lives in Clare, Ray McBride returned to Galway to become an award-winning actor, and Frank Grealy published Irish Runner magazine out of Dublin for over 35 years. Several became Irish-Americans and remained in their new country. Flynn never left Johnson City (Walker coached him through his two Olympic appearances) and now is one of track’s top agents as well as the director of the Millrose Games.

These days Ireland isn’t the running powerhouse it was in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s, though some still make an impact on the NCAA. Nor are they concentrated in a few programs like Villanova and ETSU (although Providence still gets more than its share given that coach Ray Treacy hails from County Waterford). ETSU’s last Irish runner was Peter Dalton in 2005, an Irish fell running champion who now coaches at Tennessee Tech.

Walker retired seven years later and passed away just two years after that. Cusack and Grealy had been planning a surprise visit to their old coach and instead came for his funeral, as did many other members of the Irish Brigade. Grealy summed up their experiences coming to America with the words of southern Appalachian author Thomas Wolfe:

to lose the earth you know, for greater knowing;
to lose the life you have, for greater life;
to leave the friends you loved, for greater loving;
to find a land more kind than home, more large than earth.

• By Jesse Squire
• In Uncategorized

The track and running world has come to a screeching halt in an effort to battle the spread of COVID-19. In an effort to fill the void I’m taking a deep dive into my various archives and pulling up what I find in the history of college track and field.

1991, Westwood, CA: Texas defeated UCLA and Fresno State in a triangular, which ended a six year dual/tri/quad winning streak for the Bruins.

1991, Eugene, OR: Oregon senior javelin thrower Paula Berry opened the Oregon Preview by surpassing the NCAA championships qualifying mark on her very first throw.
Eugene Register-Guard article

1990, Tucson, AZ: BYU’s Frank Fredericks swept the 100 and 200 at Arizona’s Willie Williams Classic with times of 10.20 and 20.36. Only one month earlier he became eligible for international competition when his nation of Namibia earned its independence from South Africa, which was still banned from international athletics due to apartheid. Fredericks was followed by Wildcat football player Michael Bates, who two years later took Olympic 200 meter bronze right behind Fredericks’ silver.

1985, Berkeley, CA: Cal’s men ran their outdoor dual meet record to 5-0 on the strength of a 97-66 victory over Arizona.
AP wire story

1985, Eugene, OR: Kathy Hayes overcame a nasty cold to win the 3000 meters in 9:12.22 at the all-women’s Oregon Open.
Eugene Register-Guard article

1974, Tempe, AZ: BYU’s Paul Cummings ran a stadium record 3:56.4 mile. Final scores were USC 89½, BYU 45½, Arizona State 50.
AP wire story

1968, Detroit, MI: A sellout crowd of 9,556 at Cobo Arena saw Villanova dethrone USC as NCAA indoor champions. The Wildcats’ Larry James was the star of the meet and anchored the mile relay to a near-world record time. Oregon State junior Dick Fosbury won the high jump with his revolutionary style, the first time it really drew national attention.
SI Vault article

1968, San Jose, CA: San Jose State rested sprint star Tommie Smith but still handily defeated BYU, 89-56.
AP wire story

1963, Eugene, OR: Reigning NCAA champions Oregon opened their season with a 79-66 win over Cal, highlighted by Dave Steen’s school records in both the shot and discus. 2,200 fans braved cold, windy conditions to see the Ducks win their 37th straight dual meet at Hayward Field.
Eugene Register-Guard article

1957, Chicago, IL: Villanova’s Ron Delany, the reigning Olympic 1500 champion for Ireland, won the mile at the Chicago Daily News Relays with a time of 4:03.8. 16,000 fans turned out for the meet, doubtlessly including many Irish-Americans getting a head start on St. Patrick’s Day. Delaney’s time was just 0.2 seconds off the US indoor all-comers record and was his 17th straight win.
AP wire story

1935, New York, NY: Temple’s Eulace Peacock defeated Ohio State sophomore Jesse Owens in the long jump at the Knights of Columbus indoor meet. Owens had set the world indoor record earlier in the season.
AP wire story

• By Jesse Squire
• In Uncategorized

Travel, etc.:

Nick, Eleanor and I arrived in Berlin mid-day on Wednesday the 12th, 4-ish days before the Berlin Marathon. Despite drinking water at seemingly every opportunity on the flights from Portland to Amsterdam to Berlin, we felt dehydrated and road-weary upon our arrival. We waited for our baggage to arrive and from across luggage carousel Nick and I recognized Valentijn Trouw, Eliud Kipchoge’s manager. As an avid Kipchoge fan, it took a lot of energy to not walk up to him and say “You’re Valentijn Trouw, Eliud Kipchoge’s manager” and stare blankly at him until he slowly walks away. We arrive in Berlin city center at two in the afternoon and wait in a cafe below the apartment we rented until the “landlord’s friend” finishes cleaning the unit. We check in, pretend to stretch some, and hit the streets for a 30 minute shakeout. We jokingly hedge that we can run at 9 minute mile pace based on how loopy we are and surprisingly slip into 7:30 pace around Berlin’s historic Tiergarten.

We wander around for dinner after and find some very tasty Indonesian food; Berlin surprises in its diversity and consequently its delicious foodstuffs.

Race ready:

The following day, I wander to the Olympic stadium west of the city, as I am to meet a physical therapist there to take a look at my Achilles. This PT is a friend of a friend of a colleague and I’m hoping they can straighten out my body after the flight. I’ve been dealing with some Tenosynovitis on the left side for the past few weeks and despite the effort of everyone in my support system to tell me  I haven’t lost much fitness, I am a little bummed that I am coming into the race without crossing all the t’s and dotting all the i’s. There is a bit of comfort for me in knowing that I am in my best shape before racing and this time I don’t have that luxury. I am just going to have to deal with it. Also, I wouldn’t be able to even think about starting the race without the help from Karl at Rose City Physical Therapy, who saw me every-other-day for two weeks leading up to the travel.

The rest of the pre-race includes walking around the city while trying to keep my feet up a respectable amount, making coffee, and jogging in the park. In a certain way, the international trip forces us to relax more than say traveling down from Portland to Sacramento, where you can work on a Friday and race on Sunday. We’re on vacation and despite my best efforts to add stress to the equation, we are going to have some fun, damn it.

Humans and other oddities:

We visit the expo wade through the sea of humanity, some of which are there exclusively to pick up their bibs, while others are buying jogging hats, trying all assortment of gels and ointments, and even indulging in a mid-day beer. I tend to identify with the prior group. We take the U-bahn back to our rental and start planning our  Maurten bottle strategy, gel situation, and ensure that we didn’t leave any race gear in Portland. Nick has sights on the Olympic Trials Qualifier time of 2:19, but mostly to see where his fitness will lead him. I’m in a similar boat, using mantras of “let the pace find you” and “measure your energy in the second half,” which is very fine advice, although I prefer the more concrete directives of “run 5:35s, you’re fit enough.

In a strange way, maybe this experience will be good for me. At CIM in 2016, I checked all the boxes before the race and knew I was ready for a big PB. I ran a time of 2:26:47 but came off the race knowing I had more in the tank for the next one. Berlin 2018 will be my fourth marathon and I’m learning to deal with the cards I have in my hand and being grateful for the opportunity to work hard. I’ve jokingly told inquirers of my time goal, “I’m just here for the transcendence.” But with any self-defeating joke-deflection, there’s usually a bit of truth involved. I love to turn myself inside-out on asphalt and if that means running 2:25 or 2:35 or 2:45, yeah, I’m just here for the transcendence.

• By Scott Olberding
• In Uncategorized

Every once in awhile, a story breaks that reminds us no matter how cute animals seem, they will kill humans with little or no remorse.

• By Ryan Sterner
• In Uncategorized

Folks, this one goes out to the kids from the Not East Coast who maybe have wound up on the East Coast for their continued education, and who are also pursuing collegiate distance running while there.

There will come a time–more than likely–where you’ll peep at your team’s tentative racing schedule and see the usual suspects: meets held in towns with strange names like Binghampton; duels against old-timey rivals that are no longer that fierce of rivals; and unusual and mysterious acronyms. These acronyms probably are scheduled for the weekend before, or of, your conference meet.

“What gives?” you probably are asking yourself. “I’m supposed to be winning conference or gearing up for Nationals!”

I’m here to tell you that there’s a good chance you’ll do neither of those things, and that it’s okay.

Every May for the past several years at Princeton University’s Weaver Stadium, just-shy-of-national-caliber track athletes from the Northeast and Mid-Atlantic congregate to close out their seasons, or take one last stab at securing a regional-qualifying mark.

This meet is called either the IC4A or ECAC Championships, depending on your gender. For the men, it’s called IC4A (Intercollegiate Association of Amateur Athletes of America), and for the women, ECAC (Eastern College Athletic Conference).

And at this point, it has a conciliatory air about it. If you run fast enough, jump high or far enough, or heave your implement with enough force to qualify for IC4As/ECACs, chances are you started the season with ambitions of qualifying for the regionals, or perhaps even nationals.

That’s not to say impressive marks aren’t posted annually at this Princeton, New Jersey, mainstay of a track meet. It’s just that for the bulk of its competitors, there’s some place they’d rather be, a meet of greater consequence they’d rather be training for.

But it hasn’t always been like this. The IC4A outdoor championship has been continually held since 1876, and at various points throughout its existence, was the preeminent collegiate championship meet in the United States.

The NCAA first held an outdoor track championship of its own in 1921, and the writing was slowly scribbled onto the wall for the IC4A. The two meets coexisted nicely for a bit, with many non-east coast schools opting for the IC4A meet over NCAAs until the Great Depression. (The 1932 IC4A outdoor meet was held in Berkeley, California!)

That said, as late as the 1970s, the IC4A meet still possessed the clout necessary to draw top-level athletes from the eastern U.S., often as a tune-up meet before NCAAs, but in some instances, in lieu of it.

Several IC4A meet records of note were set in the 1970s, most notably Sidney Maree of Villanova’s 3:37.41 and 13:27.07, and the 1:45.34 run by Tom McLean of Bucknell. But by the late 1970s and early 1980s, the cost of traveling to the NCAA championship–not guaranteed to be on the east coast–had no longer so prohibitive as to dissuade east coast schools from sending their qualifying athletes.

Unfortunately for east coast track women of the era, the first concurrent running of the ECAC championship was in 1984–well past the heyday of the once proud eastern seaboard championship meet.

So just because you’re not at the meet of your dreams this weekend, it doesn’t mean you can’t make the most of it. Princeton is a great place to run fast, and enjoy a decadent sandwich after made up of breakfast delectables, cured meats, and special sauces. Plus, if you score or win an event at IC4As you cement your place in a history that goes back to our nation’s Centennial, which is really cool.

Everything matters so long as you put personal weight and significance into it. So have some fun in the best state in the union–New Jersey–and create some fond memories while there.

• By Paul Snyder
• In Uncategorized