Few athletes come along that really captivate the audience and transcend decades of history with

their remarkable personal drive and persistence. Steven Roland Prefontaine was the Michael

Jordan, Babe Ruth, and Joe Montana of his generation, equated with the likes of the great ones

in sports history. He turned down what would have been the largest contract at the time in

sports history simply to finish his Olympic dream. Sadly, he passed away in 1975 a year prior

to what would have been his best Olympic Games, just hours after an amazing 5000 meter

battle against Frank Shorter in front of over 7,000 faithful Oregon fans.

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A few years ago I was told about a 40 mile relay that Pre was a part of in 1974.  The final 4 miles

were held on the day of the Civil War football game between Oregon and Oregon State and Pre

was asked to anchor a remarkable team of Steve Bence, Mark Feig, and Matt Centrowitz, they

would begin 67 seconds behind.  It was believed that they would be competing against a fraternity team from Oregon State and the gap would be easily overcome. That notion was tossed out the window when on race day the 4 best milers on the Oregon State track team stood there with freshman phenom and 4:02 miler Rich Kimball as the anchor.

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Pre was guaranteed by Bence that he would have the lead by the time he received the baton; however, when the baton was passed he was 15 seconds behind. I will leave the remarkable finish to the words of Steve Bence himself. “Pre” lives forever in our hearts and minds because of that remarkable capability to will himself to greatness despite overwhelming odds. He was one of us, a hard working little guy, whose fire and drive on the track and in cross country drew us into a life story that has become the stuff of legend.

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The words of Steve Bence:

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“Pre asked me about my guarantee that he’d have a lead at the handoff. I looked to Mark and Matt, who both offered thumb’s-up.  But making up more than 20 seconds per mile proved to be too much.

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I watched for Pre’s reaction as he received the baton about 15 seconds behind Rich Kimball. I was prepared for him to refuse to run. Instead, Pre grabbed the baton, glanced my way, flipped me off, and then looked ahead to Kimball. I could tell in his eyes that he was going to run great but I didn’t know if the 15 second gap would be too much, especially after the morning track workout.

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Mark, Matt, and I hopped in the car and sped off to the stadium to watch the finish. We had only a few minutes to park the car, run in, and then talk our way onto the field.

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The stadium announcer briefly explained the Great Race and directed attention to the end zone where any moment the runners would enter the stadium. No one expected Prefontaine. Yet suddenly, there was Pre bursting through the tunnel about a stride ahead of Rich Kimball.

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They both sprinted down the middle of the football field as the teams were preparing to start the second half.   There was a murmur in the crowd and the announcement came that Oregon’s Steve Prefontaine was winning the Great Race. He won the approximately 40-mile race by two seconds.

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Pre was ecstatic. He was presented with the trophy, which was supposed to go to the fraternity of the winning team.
On the drive back to Eugene, we told the stories of our run. Pre loved beating the Beavers in Corvallis, and he wanted his competitiveness to rub off on the football team. The Beavers beat the Ducks that day 36-16. He probably thought that they were lazy prima donnas, unlike us track guys.

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When we got back to Eugene I tried to get the trophy back from him to give to the fraternity. Pre said that it was going on his mantle for a little while and that he’d deliver the trophy later.

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A month later, during the Christmas holiday, I went to Pre’s house and noticed the trophy still on his mantle. I told him that I needed to be returned. He said, “Not yet.”

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The next spring, on May 29, 1975 to be specific, we had a track meet on a Thursday evening. Pre had trouble relaxing for so many hours before the race so he insisted that Mark, Matt, and I go to his house to play cards.  As we prepared to leave, Pre realized that the four of us from the Great Race were together. He grabbed his camera, ran next door to ask his neighbor to take a picture, the four of us stood in his front yard with the trophy. Finally, Pre was then ready to let go of it.

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We went to the track meet.

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Hours later Pre died.

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Months after Pre’s death, someone developed the film in his camera and delivered a copy of the picture, which I forgot existed.  It was a wonderful surprise.

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I’m not sure what happened to the trophy but I know it meant something to him.

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Pre was a multiple NCAA champion, American record holder, and an Olympian. Yet winning that race on that day in the manner that he did was a great example of Pre’s character and competitiveness.”

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