(T&FN correspondent Kirk Reynolds is visiting Kenya this winter and will be submitting observations from time to time. The first major distance running stop on Reynolds' trip will be the Kenyan Cross Country Nationals, the competitive kettle from which annually emerge world-beating Kenyan squads for the World Cross Country Champs)

POST RACE

13 Feb 2004 - Friday

After the six Kenyan National Cross Country Championship races are complete, the entire crowd of 5000 begins to congregate near the grandstand, either up in the seats or surrounding a stage area that has been set up for awards. The band has continued playing and people are talking and laughing, and runners are still running-maybe a warmdown for some, maybe because it’s just what you do.

There is a long stretch while waiting for results to be finalized. The band takes a break. A group of women dancers in red wraps comes out onto the grass, two drummers sit on the stage corner, and festive singing, clapping and movement fills the area for 15 minutes.

The music and dancing end, and David Okeyo, the General Secretary for Athletics Kenya, takes the microphone and begins to hold court. A garrulous, imposing man, he wants to call up and recognize all the runners who earned national team berths. There are six teams: long, short and junior teams for both men and women, and Athletics Kenya will take 8-9 runners in each race to the team camp that begins next week in preparation for Brussels. As those runners sidle up to sit in one area of the grandstand, roll call is taken to see who’s missing. As might be expected, most of the 12k men are absent; they finished most recently and are probably still warming down.

“Kiprop, John Cheruiyot, Kipchoge, Charles Kamathi, come here, okay please? Where are you?” Okeyo demands in Swahili in a booming voice that echoes across the entire Ngong Racecourse. The crowd chuckles. If the runners are anywhere in a one-mile radius, they should hear him.

Finally everyone has been accounted for, and introductions can commence. There is one special ceremony to begin the awards, and it’s for a single highlighted race. The top three finishers in the men’s 12k are called up after Okeyo’s introduction. Then Okeyo turns to the grandstand and welcomes a special presenter here today. Heads in the crowd turn, and Paul Tergat, five-time World XC Champ and current marathon WR-holder descends the club-level stairs to applause and then hands bags with race sponsor Energizer labels on them to Eliud Kipchoge, John Korir, and Wilberforce Talel.

One of his country’s best-loved runners, Tergat chose not to race today in order to concentrate on his training for April’s London Marathon and then the Athens Olympic marathon this coming summer. Tergat first announced this in late December, but everyone kept hoping he would change his mind and run here today. Attired in a dark suit, Tergat looks striking on stage and beams as he shakes his countrymen’s hands.

Next each of the individuals on the six national teams are introduced-“Clap!” commands Okeyo repeatedly in Swahili to the gathering-and the runners sit down in the hot sun on the grass in front of the grandstand. After all the runners are introduced, over 50 lounge on the grass in what must be one of the most remarkable collections of athletic talent worldwide in any sport. The runners don’t seem awed, just hot, and Okeyo dismisses them back to sit the stadium shade.

Okeyo turns back to the crowd and makes a grand announcement: “We have appointed six coaches. We are entering in all six categories of the cross country (world meet), so you can know why we have selected six coaches. Now these six coaches, guests of honor, will be coordinated by another coach by the name Patrick Sang.”

Sang, the 1992 Olympic steeplechase silver medalist, will oversee a new format for Kenya, which has a long and controversial history of selecting and dealing with coaches heading its national teams-whether through favoritism, back-room deals, or seemingly unfair national governing body machinations.

Instead of a small staff like before, Okeyo announces that each of the six teams will have its own coach under Sang, plus the overall squad will have a chaperone, team manager, assistant team manager, and a physiotherapist.

“We have selected these teams (of eight or nine runners),” continues Okeyo. “But according to the IAAF, we shall only enter six in every category. That’s the team that will finally travel to Brussels, and four will score in every category. That’s the rule. And we all are looking forward to big success.”

Okeyo then turns serious, “I want to say one thing: I request everybody not to politicize the selection of the coaches. The Coaches’ Commission had their own meeting, and 42 coaches were drawn from all over the country. They sat down and recommended the coaches who were named. They agreed among themselves. So nobody should politicize the selection of the coaches. And if we fail, we shall blame you, the coaches.”

In the U.S., a public comment about blaming would be considered light-hearted and be greeted with chuckles. Here, the only sound is the rustle of a light breeze rounding the grandstand corner. Okeyo is dead serious, and the weight of his words lands heavily on the coaching staff’s shoulders. ‘Big success’ can only mean world team titles, and six of them. But Okeyo isn’t through doling out his and his country’s expectations.

“You have been given the mandate to ensure that these teams come back not only as successful teams, we need this time individual positions. The titles, we need them back. And I have no fear in my mind that we are going to win the cross country in Brussels.”

Not only does Okeyo want six team titles for Kenya, he’s now asking for six individual crowns. A clean sweep of the World Championships? It seems a tall order, but if any country can do it, Kenya can.

In the past two years, Kenenisa Bekele of Ethiopia has won both the long and short course individual titles for men, to Kenya’s great frustration. In the men’s team score in the long race, Kenya won last year with 17 points, with Ethiopa an unnervingly close second place at 23, which is the best second place team score ever in the meet after scoring 45 two years ago. Kenya’s East African northern neighbor is closing the gap in the junior men’s team score, too. On the women’s side, Werknesh Kidane of Ethiopa won the 2003 long course individual title, and Ethiopia has won the last two women’s long course team titles. With only a few exceptions in the past five years, if Kenya hasn’t won the title, then Ethiopia has.

Kenya-and David Okeyo specifically-feels the heat, and it’s not just the equatorial sun.

Okeyo completes his speech, and then turns the microphone over to other officials to take their turn, including Najib Balala, the Minister for Gender, Sports, Culture and Social Services, who announces cash awards for all medal winners. As the speeches linger on to nearly two hours after the end of the 12k, the crowd outside the stadium gets louder and louder with conversational chatter as people’s attention wanders. Finally the speeches stop, and the band brings the crowd to its feet with the Kenyan national anthem. People scatter and begin to leave.

As the crowd thins, the national team runners stay in their seats in the middle of the grandstand. Pretty soon, they’re the only ones sitting there, and Okeyo turns and faces them directly to discuss team details.

“Haya (Okay), how many of you don’t have passports?” he asks. Out of the over 50 athletes, only 8 are without a passport, mostly very young-looking junior team members. The others must all have some sort of international experience, which is astounding. “We also need to get visas. Belgian visas are needed two weeks before travel.”

Okeyo also knows that many of the more veteran, passport-carrying runners he’s talking to have coaches and managers outside the country. These runners will shortly be heading into a month-long team camp with the six announced team coaches directing their training.

“I don’t want to hear of anybody hearing how to train by telephone,” Okeyo demands. He points to the coaches seated before the group. “These people…,” he trails off with the point made clear. “This is a national team.”

Okeyo insists that the runners all report to camp on Monday. “No exceptions. None,” he says. The camp will be held near Embu, on the slopes of Mt. Kenya about 140 kilometers north of Nairobi, and the squad will be based there until leaving for Brussels three days before the World meet. A few of the younger junior runners express concern about school and letting their teachers know, and Okeyo compromises to the junior men’s and women’s teams on a Wednesday arrival. None of the others raise any questions. They will be at camp on Monday.

John Kibowen asks about the camp facilities, but with his gentle voice, Okeyo has to ask him twice to repeat the question. With the camp being held at a teachers’ college, Okeyo assures him that the camp accommodations will be adequate for their needs.

The team meeting ends and Okeyo heads up into the grandstand’s clubhouse for a post-race luncheon. I catch up to him to see if I can ask a couple more questions about the change in the selection of the country’s coaching staff.

“The coaches were recommended by the Coaches’ Commission,” he says. “The ones picked were in the IAAF Level I and Level II. Another consideration was past experience, and their current performance. And we came up with the six we have named. There’s not much difference (than how it was done before), but, you see, it’s always good to give all the stakeholders a say in anything before you actually can make it work properly.”

I want to sit down with Okeyo and get his thoughts comparing the U.S. to Kenya, but he’s obviously antsy to be finished. I want to ask him how it’s possible to have a month-long training camp in Kenya, but not in the U.S.-about how it’s possible to have team coaches who actually work with the runners in training rather than be little more than 4-5 day team managers in a mostly ceremonial role. I want to ask him his thoughts on how the U.S. can have a ‘team’ at the world meet when, after the U.S. Championships, everyone who has earned a ‘team’ berth returns home to train individually, in most cases.

I want to imagine Craig Masback scheduling a month-long camp in a terrific U.S. location and demanding (“No exceptions!”) on the afternoon following the last race that all national team members quickly report. Think of the team! Think of the training! I regain my senses and the dream poofs from my brain. Couldn’t happen. Granted, the U.S. is a large country, but blame can be directed all around, from the USATF (Umm, a camp?), to U.S. coaches (Someone else is going to tell my runner what to do?) to U.S. athletes wanting some exception to something (I can’t come until a week later. And will there be cable tv at the camp?).

By this point Okeyo is looking over his should and backpedaling. I quickly ask him about Kenya’s format for their National Cross Country Championships. Kenya, unlike the U.S., holds all of its races on one day, effectively eliminating the chance for an individual to double in both the long and short races. I frankly don’t know how most other countries in the world host their national cross country trials. One day? Two?

Would Kenya ever consider going to two days like the U.S. does? How would Chebii do in the 12k? How would Kipchoge do in the 4k? I’m curious whether Kenya, with its vast depth of world class runners, has chosen this process to ensure the best teams possible. If a runner qualified for both teams, coming back at full strength on the second day at the World meet might be a gamble that jeopardizes the team’s chance for winning. According to Okoye today, second place at the World meet is unacceptable.

Okeyo laughs, “No, that is just the way we have always done it,” and then turns and heads into the luncheon crowd.

Next: the team camp