My Greatest Olympic Prize

我最珍貴的奧林匹克獎

It was the summer of 1936. The Olympic Games were being held in Berlin. Because Adolf Hitler childishly insisted that his performers were members of a "master race," nationalistic feelings were at an all-time high.

I wasn’t too worried about all this. I’d trained, sweated and disciplined myself for six years, with the Games in mind. While I was going over on the boat, all I could think about was taking home one or two of those gold medals. I had my eyes especially on the running broad jump. A year before, as a sophomore at the Ohio State, I’d set the world’s record of 26 feet 8 1/4 inches. Nearly everyone expected me to win this event.

I was in for a surprise. When the time came for the broad-jump trials, I was startled to see a tall boy hitting the pit at almost 26 feet on his practice leaps! He turned out to be a German named Luz Long. I was told that Hitler hoped to win the jump with him.

I guessed that if Long won, it would add some new support to the Nazis’ "master race" (Aryansuperiority) theory. After all, I am a Negro. Angry about Hitler’s ways, I determined to go out there and really show Der Fuhrer and his master race who was superior and who wasn’t.

An angry athlete is an athlete who will make mistakes, as any coach will tell you. I was no exception. On the first of my three qualifying jumps, I leaped from several inches beyond the takeoff board for a foul. On the second jump, I fouled even worse. "Did I come 3,000 miles for this?" I thought bitterly. "To foul out of the trials and make a fool of myself?"

Walking a few yards from the pit, I kicked disgustedly at the dirt. Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look into the friendly blue eyes of the tall German broad jumper. He had easily qualified for the finals on his first attempt. He offered me a firm handshake.

"Jesse Owens, I’m Luz Long. I don’t think we’ve met." He spoke English well, though with a German twist to it.

"Glad to meet you," I said. Then, trying to hide my nervousness, I added, "How are you?"

"I’m fine. The question is: How are you?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Something must be eating you," he said--proud the way foreigners are when they’ve mastered a bit of American slang. "You should be able to qualify with your eyes closed."

"Believe me, I know it," I told him--and it felt good to say that to someone.

1936年夏天。奧林匹克運動會在柏林舉行。由于阿道夫·希特勒幼稚地堅持他的選手是“優等民族”的成員，民族主義情緒空前高漲。

我對這一切并不太擔心。六年來，我心里想著這次奧運會，一直在堅持刻苦訓練，從嚴要求自己。我乘船來時，就一心想帶一兩塊金牌回家。我特別想在急行跳遠項目上奪取金牌。一年前，我在俄亥俄州上大學二年級時，就創下了26英尺81/4英寸的世界紀錄。幾乎所有的人都認為我會贏得這項賽事。

然而，事情出乎我的意料。到了急行跳遠預選賽時，我吃驚地看見一個高個兒小伙子試跳時就落在了沙坑將近26英尺的地方！原來他是個德國人，名叫盧茨·隆格。有人告訴我，希特勒就希望靠他來獲得跳遠冠軍。

我心想，如果隆格獲勝，那勢必給納粹的“優等民族“（雅利安人優異）論調增加新的佐證。畢竟，我是個黑人。我很氣個過希特勒的那一套，決心顯一顯身手，著實讓“元首大人”和他的優等民族看看誰優誰劣。

任何一個教練員都會對你說．運動員一生氣就會犯錯誤。我也不例外。預賽三跳中的第一跳，我踏過起跳板幾英寸犯了現。第二跳時，則犯規更嚴重。“難道我從3000英里外跑到這兒就為了這個結局？”我痛苦地想道，“為了在預賽里就犯規出局丟自己的丑嗎？” 我從沙坑里走出幾碼遠，氣憤地踢著沙土。忽然，我感到有一只手搭在我的肩膀上。我轉過臉去，瞧見了那個高個子德國跳遠運動員一雙友好的藍眼睛。他頭一跳就輕松地取得了決賽資格。他主動用力地握了握我的手。 “杰西·歐文斯，我叫盧茨·隆格。我想我們以前沒見過面。”他英語說得不錯，盡管帶一點德國味兒。

“認識你很高興，”我說。隨后，我竭力想掩飾自已的不安，便又說道：“你怎么樣？”

“我很好。問題是：你怎么樣？”

“你的意思是？”我問道。

“一定有什么困擾著你，”他說——顯得很得意，外國人掌握了一點美國俚語都會這樣。“你就是閉著眼睛也能進入決賽。” “相信我，這我知道，”我對他說－－能跟別人說這話，心里覺得好受些。