A quick, unscientific crunch of the data suggests that of the 220 issues of The Lap Count we’ve used the word “stakes” in about 15% of them. As a newsletter prone to harping on marginal ways to improve the popularity of track and field, that shouldn’t come as a surprise. Given that track and field lacks conventional Sportscenter highlight offerings like “slam dunks,” “home runs,” and “career-ending, helmet-to-helmet spear tackles,” we’re often turning to stakes in these discussions on boosting the sport’s profile.

Is so-and-so the fastest woman on earth?

Will what’s-his-name finally win that global medal against a historically great field?

Can who’s-it, perennially in the shadow of her arch rival, finally steal one from her?

Wow, that unnamed, hypothetical Swedish pole-vaulter sure looks like he’ll break the WR again!

The stakes are inherently high in each of these scenarios. Either a world record is in the cards, and thus, a mark on the permanent historic register of track and field, or we’re talking about a gold medal coronation at the World Championship or Olympics.

But as we often repeat—in considerably more than 20% of our newsletters—most of the sport takes place outside of these few special weeks each year. And we are pretty damn adamant that track and field, in any format, can be supremely entertaining. To illustrate that point, we’ve outlined four non-major championship, non-world-record-implicated race types, with examples plucked from the annals of YouTube, that are frankly, cool as hell.

The Upset: Justin Gatlin vs. Usain Bolt at the Rome Diamond League (2013)

Usain Bolt was coming off a hamstring strain that hampered his preparation for much of the season. Justin Gatlin had been back a while from his 2006 doping ban, and was accustomed to a chorus of boos whenever he lowered himself into the blocks. They also just happened to be the two best 100m sprinters in the world, with a considerable edge to Bolt in their head-to-head battles, historically. What this all meant, was that this matchup slotted neatly into many fans’ notions of “good versus evil,” with an assumption that as was often the case, “good” would prevail.

The race itself packed plenty of drama into 10 seconds. The gun sounds, and Bolt—not known for his start—launches out of the blocks rather well. He’s about even with Gatlin, who was likely banking on getting a quick lead in the opening meters of the race. But rather than inch away from Gatlin, Bolt lumbers along, lacking his typical acceleration. Gatlin capitalizes, squeezes past the greatest 100m runner in human history, and breaks the tape. All eyes and cameras turn to Bolt. We can assume Gatlin is off celebrating. But it’s Bolt in defeat that’s the lingering image from this race. Nothing in sport is more captivating than the reminder that even the GOAT is occasionally human. And nothing is more compelling in archetype than the “villain” pulling one over on the “hero.”

The “Huh?!”: Rabbit Tom Byers holds on to win in Oslo, 1981

If there’s one knock on distance events that we’ll concede as generally true, it’s that even with a wide range of possible outcomes in each event, it can feel like there’s only a handful of possible ways they’ll play out. So when things do unfold unpredictably, with confusing tactics on display, and the final outcome in question until the final steps of the race… yeah, that’s the truly good stuff.

In 1981, historically underrated American miler Tom Byers was tasked with rabbiting an all-time elite field headlined by Steve Ovett. Byers did his job. But the field let him go almost immediately, turning it into a slowed-down slugfest between the established field. Byers never dropped out, and hit the bell a full ten seconds up on Ovett and co. (Covette?). Despite looking like he was hefting a piano on his back, and Ovett closing the ultimate 400m nine full seconds faster than him, Byers held on for one weird-ass win that’s still talked about to this day.

The Controversy: Providence drops the baton (or was it knocked out?) at Penn (2024)

At an imaginary sports bar in Providence, Rhode Island, grizzled old track heads congregate every Saturday around noon to pickle themselves and gripe about past sporting injustices that befell their beloved Friars. Today’s topic of carping? “The nudge.” Did Washington’s Penn Relays 4x800m squad take “rubbing is racing” a step too far on the homestretch back in 2024? Or was it fair play? The officials didn’t say “foul.” But where’s the fun in accepting that outcome? One of the best parts of being a sports fan is relitigating moments like this.

The baton—dropped or bumped, your call—hitting the track, resulting in a DQ for Providence squad, is one of the few minor blemishes on the team’s recent record at Penn. Had they held on and still broken the tape, are we talking about an all-time dynasty instead of only a very, very good team? This sort of discussion is how sports media mainstays like Bill Simmons butters his bread, and for good reason—it allows us to identify and dwell on the tiny little inflection points in sport that ultimately prove monumental.

The Meme: Heather Kampf (née Dorniden) falls, still wins 600m at Big Tens (2008)

Two points of clarification: By “meme,” we simply mean a race that’s reached escape velocity and wound up on mainstream news shows, on your conspiracy theorist uncle’s Facebook feed, or on sales development rep training slides about perseverance. That sort of thing. And no shots at the Big Ten Indoor Championships, but it’s not quite the Olympics, so we’re counting this race as “regular season.”