<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<BODY.CONTENT>
<UID>
8702090099
</UID>
<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
870817
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Monday, August 17, 1987
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
STATE EDITION
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
</SECTION>
<PAGE>
1F
</PAGE>
<ILLUSTRATION>

</ILLUSTRATION>
<CAPTION>

</CAPTION>
<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

</AFFILIATION>
<MEMO>

</MEMO>
<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1987, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
WITHOUT ELUSIVE RECORD,  LEWIS IS MERELY WINNING
</HEADLINE>
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</SUBHEAD>
<CORRECTION>

</CORRECTION>
<BODY>
INDIANAPOLIS -- Forget about the hairdos and the lip gloss and the "bigger
than Michael Jackson" predictions. When Carl Lewis blows his whistle at the
top of the long jump runway, people still come  out to watch. They come out
big.

  So it was that most of the media at these Pan American games were  baking in
the mid-day sun inside a nearly sold out stadium Sunday, watching Lewis strip
off his  sweats, toss them in a pile, and shake loose those glorious muscles
in another attempt to kill the ghost that lives inside the pit.

  "This is his favorite track," people whispered.
  "Remember the  30-footer that was called foul?"
  "He says he's going to break it today."
  "Really?"
  No, not really. The problem with setting the table for history is that you
usually waste a lot of good food.  Carl Lewis has been chasing Bob Beamon's
haunting 29-foot, 2 1/2-inch long jump mark since before he was wearing white
sunglasses and orange tights. And now the tights and glasses are gone and the
record  is still there, and so are the expectations every time he jumps.
  He never says he will get it. He never says he won't. What Carl Lewis does
mostly is drop hints here or there -- "The conditions should  be excellent,"
"I'm really jumping well right now," "I think 30 feet is definitely possible"
-- and we take it from there.
  So everyone in the stadium Sunday was looking for a world record, and so
were the network TV cameras and, as has been happening since Beamon leaped in
1968, the record did not come.
  Oh, Lewis windmilled through the air, and brought gasps when he landed, and
even raised  an exultant fist on his winning jump -- and yes, naturally, he
did win the competition, and in fact, finished with four of the best 15 jumps
of his life. But when he landed on his sixth and final attempt  only 28-5 3/4
from the take-off board (kids, please don't try this at home) a silent exhale
rose from the crowd. No ghosts would die today.
Same questions, same answers  Shoot for heaven, and stars will disappoint
you. In the crowded and stifling-hot press tent after the competition, Lewis
sat before a microphone, and took questions about his day's efforts.
  "The wind? Was that the problem?"  someone began.
  "I think it was pretty obvious the wind made it extremely difficult," Lewis
said. 
  "The 4 by 100 relay (which Lewis had to run in the middle of the long jump
competition), was  that part of the problem?"
  "I was definitely tired from that," he said.
  "Are you disappointed in missing  the record?"
  "No, I'm not disappointed . . . "
  This was a press conference he  has been having for years. Are you
disappointed? What went wrong? Why didn't you get it? It is always something
-- the wind, the surface, the time of year. And people walk away mumbling
about Lewis'  lack of any individual world records, sprints or jumps.
  A word in his defense. On the track, Lewis is still a magnificent athlete,
perhaps the best in the world. His very movements seem to draw the  pleased
nods of track gods, he is built so perfectly for his events; sleek where he
need be, thick where he need be. And besides, he is fast as hell. 
  Having said that, let us say this: He has spoiled  us. His four gold medals
at the 1984 Olympic Games, and the selfish way he conducted himself prior,
during, and after, have placed the carrot of our affections in front of him --
at exactly world record  distance. Anything less will not do.
  "If I can jump 28-8 1/2 like I did today, if I can jump six times over 28
feet (as he did earlier this year), if I can keep doing stuff like that, then
there  will be a day when the conditions are good, and when the right day is
there . . . "
  He didn't finish. But then, he didn't have to.
Explanation is needed  "Do you think the public is disappointed  in you now
when you don't get a record, even if you win?" he was asked.
  "I think the people who understand the event, who understand that the
conditions were not good, that today was difficult, then  they aren't
disappointed."
  "Do you think people understand the event that well?" he was asked.
  "They would if it was explained to them," he snapped. "Next question?"
  "Can you comment on the  victory itself?" 
  "Oh, I'm pleased," he said. "That's something that shouldn't be overlooked.
A gold medal. A victory in  a major international meet. I've never won a gold
medal in the Pan American  Games before. I'm really happy about that"
  It was duly noted, jotted down on the pads. But the world record had not
come, and the press conference ended with a number of reporters already
outside  the tent, skipping the last few questions. "Carl has to go,"
announced the PR man finally, and Lewis ducked out the back, into the breeze
of another ordinary day.
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