What If George Mount Had Gone To Moscow?

If you are "of a certain age," as I am, you might remember a recurring Saturday Night Live sketch called "What If?". It was a sendup of talk shows that presented counterfactual historical events.  Perhaps the most famous of them was "What If Eleanor Roosevelt Could Fly?"

Since then, the internet has opened the door to all manner of "alternative history" sites and discussion boards.  Some are, of course as far-fetched (in some instances, without trying to be) as SNL's segments.  But others pose some really serious and interesting questions. For example:  What this country (and world)  be like had Franklin Delano Roosevelt had kept Henry Wallace as his Vice President in 1944 and not allowed Democratic party bosses throw him under the bus in favor of Harry Truman?

Now, this post is not going to ponder anything quite as earth-shattering as that.  Instead, I am going to pose a question that entered my mind after reading an excerpt from Daniel de Vise's The Comeback:  Greg LeMond, the True King of American Cycling, and a Legendary Tour de France.  In it, de Vise discusses the racing scene that developed in and around Berkeley, California in the late 1950s and early 1960s, when cycling was a fringe activity in the US.

A decade later, one of the first world-class male American riders since World War I would emerge from that milieu.  He would finish his career with 200 victories in amateur and professional races. But it was a sixth-place finish that really set the stage for the generation of American riders--which included LeMond--that would follow.

When George Mount finished three places behind the medal-winners in the 1976 Olympic road race, it was by far the best showing by an American rider since Carl Schutte won the Individual Time Trial bronze medal (and the US team won the bronze for the Team Time Trial) in 1912.  In the six-plus decades since Schutte and his teammates ascended the podium, no American rider or team had placed in the top 60 in any Olympic competition.

George Mount, circa 1974

Mount's victory in Montreal was broadcast all over the world.  It was the first time in decades significant numbers of Americans paid attention to bike racing.    Some European scouts took notice of him, too, and soon he found himself racing with an Italian club.  In his early 20s at the time, he seemed destined for greater successes--including a medal at the 1980 Olympics, held in Moscow.

Except that he didn't get the chance to go to Russia.  In response to the Soviet Union's December 1979 invasion of Afghanistan, US President Jimmy Carter declared a boycott of the Games.  Other countries would also decide not to send their athletes to Moscow that year, though some for other reasons.  

Though he has never said as much, it's hard not to think that the missed Olympic opportunity was at least one reason why Mount decided to turn professional that year.  He would enjoy success on the European racing circuit, and expressed no regrets when he retired from racing just before turning 30.  Still, it's fair to ask whether spending another year or two as an amateur--and winning an Olympic medal--might have aided him in his development.  Would his continued successes created momentum that American cycling could have ridden (if you'll pardon the expression) well beyond LeMond's victories?

In Memoriam: Jocelyn Lovell, Canada's First Cycling Star

The star was ascending.  Or so it seemed.

The time:  late 1970's-early 1980s.  The place:  North America. 

The '70's Bike Boom was over.  Some people discovered bicycle touring during the heady summer of Bikecentennial.  Not many stuck with it:  careers and families and such detoured them.  (Also, some had a "been there, done that" attitude after touring the country.)  And whatever awareness people might have developed about bike touring, or any type of cycling done by adults, didn't translate into a lifestyle of which cycling would be an integral part.  They continued to drive to work, school and for shopping and recreational activities.  They might take the bike for a spin in the park, but it was a novelty, much as taking a horseback ride during a vacation is for many people.

Still, there were some signs that the United States and Canada might one day join some of European countries and Japan among the elite cycling nations.  Nancy Burghart had dominated women's racing during the 1960's.  During the following decade, a new generation of American women would dominate the field to an even greater degree.  In fact, one could argue that Mary Jane ("Miji") Reoch, Sue Novara, Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg turned the US into the first "superpower" of women's cycling.

Men's racing on this side of the Atlantic (and Pacific) was also improving by leaps and bounds, though they were pedaling through longer shadows cast by such riders as Anquetil, Mercx and Hinault.  Still, during the period in question, the world began to notice American male cyclists, especially after they took home seven medals, including three golds, in the 1984 Olympics:  the first time American men won any hardware since the 1912 games. (Connie Carpenter and Rebecca Twigg won the gold and silver, respectively, in the inaugural women's Olympic road race that year.)

Canada wasn't about to be left out of the picture.  In those same Olympic games, Steve Bauer took the silver medal in the men's road race, and Curt Harnett did the same in the 1 km time trial.  In the road race, someone you've probably heard of finished 33rd:  Louis Garneau.  Yes, the one with the line of bike clothing and helmets. 

Although Bauer's and Harnett's victories were sweet for our friends to the north, they highlighted the absence of another rider who, many believed, could have won, or at least challenged for, a medal:  Jocelyn Lovell.

Six years earlier, he'd won three gold medals at the Commonwealth Games.  Later that same year, captured the silver medal at the World Cycling championships. Those victories highlighted a career that saw him win medals in other Commonwealth as well as Pan American games, as well as numerous national titles, throughout the 1970s.  He also represented Canada in the 1968, 1972 and 1976 Olympics--the latter of which were held in Montreal. 

Lovell at the 1976 Olympics in Montreal

Like the United States, Canada boycotted the 1980 Summer Olympics, in protest of the then-Soviet Union's invasion of Afghanistan.  Thus Lovell didn't make the trip to Moscow, where the Games were held.  He turned 30 during the course of the games.   It seemed, then, that if Lovell were to ride in the 1984 Olympics, they would probably be his last.

But he never had that opportunity.  A year before the opening ceremony in Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum, tragedy befell Jocelyn Lovell. Late in the afternoon of 4 August 1983, he was out on one of his daily training rides near his Missisauga, Ontario home.  A pair of dump trucks approached him from behind as he crested a hill. The first swung around him.  The second ploughed over him.

That he wasn't killed was a miracle. However, from that moment onward, he would never move any part of his body below his shoulders, ever again. 

According to friends and acquaintances, he never accepted his fate.  He always said that one day, he'd be on a bike again.  He may well have said that on Friday, 3 June:  the day his battle ended, at age 65. 

Such an ending is particularly sad for someone who was noted for his souplesse:  his fluid form astride a bicycle.  Observers remarked that he and his bike simply seemed to belong together.  The terrible irony is that someone who had such physical grace would have to spend half of his life completely unable to use it.  He did, however, become an advocate for spinal cord research and other related causes.

Although relatively few in the US know about him, any of us who are cyclists and benefit in any way from the current interest in cycling owe him a debt of gratitude:  He helped to put our continent on the cycling map.  And he always kept his hope alive.  What is more American than that?