A day with Frank Fredericks!

WE gathered in Victoria, Canada, for the Commonwealth Games. Frank Fredericks, Namibia’s all-time greatest athlete, arrived from the United States where he resided as student, in the company of his coach.

Doc Naobeb and I met them at the airport and took them to the athletes’ village. Frank kept his usual style. He avoided media as much as he could before competition. The BBC managed to persuade him to do an interview. Frank enjoyed the interaction with the reporter who asked his prediction on the 100- and 200-metre races in which Frank was to compete. Frank’s prediction was that both races would be tightly contested and that Lynford Christie would win the 100-metre race. He was non-committal on the 200.And so it went. Lynford ran a killer in the 100-metre race. Frank came third. I joined Coach to watch Frank unwind after the race. Coach kept his distance and I took my cues. When he completed the routine Frank walked to the changing rooms. As Coach and I walked to the athlete’s village I asked him why he did not interact with Frank after the race. He said in a tone filled with emotion: ‘Well, the race was close and I did not want to risk any tears. Besides, our schedule is rather tight.’ The following day it was our turn. Frank ran in the 200 finals. Coach must have discovered that I was uncomfortable and he kept pulling me forward. I moved forward, hugged Frank rather tightly and said: ‘Good luck Frank.’ ‘Thanks Uncle Bob,’ he said as he balanced his bag on one shoulder. Coach gazed back and said: ‘Hey Frank! Conserve!’Frank gazed back, his lips tightly compressed, swallowed thoughtfully and nodded in the affirmative. It was emotional and I struggled to hold my tears. I followed Coach to the pavilion. He chose a spot in the middle of the stand, right across from where the 200-metre race would start. They were called to the blocks. The gun went off. The first 100 metres was anybody’s game. As they curved around the bend, Frank thrust himself forward as if in revenge, inspected the lanes on both sides and strolled onward with confidence. Coach said: ‘Bet you! There’s no athlete in the world that can beat him once he is equal to all others around that bend.’ Frank came first, and Namibia and Africa celebrated as he was crowned the 200-metres champion of the Commonwealth.Frank held a media briefing and they took him on about his life, his country and his future plans. He was very exhausted but patiently dealt with all the issues. A Canadian journalist called Sue Smith asked me whether Namibia had plans for the future of athletics since Frank would not run forever. I said we did and was glad she did not insist further. It was a very emotional experience.Two years later the scene shifted from Victoria, Canada, to Harare, Zimbabwe. These were the All-Africa Games. I was privileged to lead the Namibian team as Chef de Mission. Frank did not participate and it was rough for Namibia, save for Mannie Heymans who pulled a gold in cycling. The last person I wished to meet was Sue Smith, the Canadian journalist. One afternoon as I relaxed at the Harare public market, I ran into Sue and she asked: ‘What are you taking home now that Frank Fredericks did not show up?’ I lifted two baskets I held in both hands and said jokingly: ‘Baskets for my mother!’