Ashford Doesn’t Slow Her Age in Olympic Relay at Seoul Games

Of all the Americans who watched the 1988 Olympics on television, the most excited of all must have been Raina Ashley Ashford, age 3, who gave a new meaning to that “thrill of victory” cliche.

Raina was staying with her grandmother in Florida while mom and dad were in Seoul. Raina’s mom is Evelyn Ashford, the second fastest woman sprinter in history, who anchored the U.S. 400-meter relay team.

It was a very exciting race, because Florence Joyner-Kersee and Evelyn botched their handoff and Evelyn had to play major-league catch-up to win the gold medal for the American team.

Evelyn re-creates the action back in grandma’s living room: “Raina started to jump up and down when she saw me pass everyone. She was so excited she ran through the house, did a flip and threw up all over the place. Poor Raina.

“When I got home she told me, ‘You passed all those people, Mommy, I see you!’ ”

Never mind that Raina slept through the telecast of the women’s 100 meters, where mom won the silver medal. Raina is one of the few viewers whose lasting memory of the 1988 Olympic Games will be a beautiful performance by Evelyn Ashford.

FloJo, of course, got more recognition last year for her fingernails than Ashford got for her entire body. A 31-year-old mother winning a gold and a silver medal in the biggest global sporting event of the decade should have rated more notice, but Evelyn’s timing was bad.

The world had never seen a FloJo. The speed. The fingernails. The smile. The lingerie.

“I feel like I was overshadowed, yeah,” Ashford said, evenly. “How can I say this? Yes, but I feel a great sense of accomplishment, and after all, that’s why I do what I do--for myself. I do a lot of clinics, and kids tell me I’m an inspiration to them. Florence inspires them in one way, I think I can inspire them in another.”

Ashford can dazzle them with her career, which has been fast and long, 13 years at the top, and as fast now as ever. Nobody runs this old, this fast. Evelyn Ashford is the female Nolan Ryan.

“I’m a pioneer, and that’s a little scary,” Ashford said. “When you try to do something, you look at the person who came before, in some ways you try to emulate them. Right now I have no example to follow. Before me, sprinters retired at 23 or 24.

“I run because I still like it, I can make a living, and I feel I was born to do it. And because people tell me I can’t do it.”

In fact, Ashford holds the world record for being too old at the youngest age: 18. She was a college freshman, with 1 year of high school sprinting behind her, when the school’s track coach told her she was too old to start learning the art of sprinting. Evelyn ignored the advice, as well as the coach’s insistence that she straighten out her forward-lean style.

Actually she didn’t ignore the advice. She used it as personal inspiration.

“The fastest way to get me to go out and do something is to tell me no way I can do it,” Ashford said, not the slightest hint of levity in her tone.

She made the 1976 U.S. Olympic team at age 19, missed the ’80 Games because of the U.S. boycott, then in ’84 won the 100 meters and anchored the winning 100-meter relay team.

Last summer’s Olympics were FloJo’s. But let’s not forget that relay finish.

“I’ll tell you when I panicked,” Ashford said. “I panicked when I thought Florence would eat up that last turn, run right up my butt.”

FloJo did pass the East German and Soviet runners, but the U.S. lead was small as Griffith-Joyner approached Ashford. It was a terrible baton exchange, nearly disastrous. Evelyn got such a small piece of the stick that she wasn’t sure whether she had a baton or a FloJo fingernail. All Evelyn knew was that the Soviet and East German runners were suddenly out of sight.

What did Ashford say to herself at that moment? Did she say what some of us watching said--”Oh, . . . “?

Ashford: “That’s exactly what I said--’Oh, . . . !’ I just ran.”

She shut down her mind and shifted into Ashford Overdrive.

“When I’m running fast,” she said, “I don’t feel anything, it’s effortless, it’s like my feet don’t even touch the ground, it’s like I’m flying. I didn’t feel that way in the 100, but I did on the relay.”

She flew past the Soviet and East German runners.

Someone screamed at her, “The legend lives on!”

“I heard that and I felt like a very old lady,” Ashford said.

But not so old that she isn’t running again this season, starting with the Sunkist Invitational Jan. 20 at the Sports Arena, where she’ll compete at 60 meters.

How about Barcelona in ‘92, when Evelyn will be 35?

Ashford has thought about that. She has visualized herself running at Barcelona. Flying. But she is a realist. She feels that God gave her the precious gift of speed, that she truly was born to run . . . but not necessarily forever.

Listen, Evelyn, if I may offer a bit of expert advice: Forget about Barcelona. It’s a crazy idea. Ridiculous. Sprinting at 35? Please. Those kid runners will lap you. Take up knitting or gardening. You can’t do it. No way.