Goldengirl

‘Within two years, Babe Didrikson was the outstanding girl athlete of America. In the Texas State Championships, she entered all ten events and won eight, finishing second in the others. At eighteen, she was nominated for three events in the Olympics, held here in 1932 at the Los Angeles Coliseum. With her first throw in the javelin she beat the world record, but tore a ligament in her shoulder. Despite that, she qualified for the final of the hurdles and won that, again in world-record time. That left her third event: the high jump. For this, she had spent many months mastering the technique of the Western Roll. The competition developed into a duel between the Babe and another American girl who used the conventional scissors style. They tied at a height that beat the world record, but the rules in force stated that a jump-off must take place to get an outright winner. The bar was raised by another three quarters of an inch, but both girls failed their three attempts. The judges lowered the bar by half an inch and told the girls to try again. It was still almost an inch and a half above the official world record, and with both girls obviously tired it seemed a pointless exercise, but to everyone’s relief and astonishment the other girl got over on her first try. That seemed to have settled the matter. It meant that the Babe had to clear the bar with her next jump, or take the silver medal. She was possibly the only person in the Coliseum who hadn’t written off her chance. She took a long look at the bar, gritted her teeth, ran smoothly forward and got over. Stalemate. Then one of the judges ruled that with her Western Roll style she had contravened the rules by “diving,” so she was placed second. Even so, she had every right to go down in Olympic history as the first “golden girl” of the Games.’

Valenti released a long sigh and shook his head sadly. ‘Today that kid could have made a million — easy.’

‘Actually, she did turn professional,’ said Serafin. ‘An advertisement appeared before the end of the year linking her name with the latest Dodge automobile. Ruthrauff and Ryan acted as her agents, and she appeared for a few weeks in vaudeville at the Palace Theater, Chicago, for a fee of $2500, doing an Eddie Cantor imitation and demonstrating running on a treadmill. I gather that a sports star can make a little more than that these days in a more dignified manner, Mr. Dryden.’

He nodded. If he didn’t come up with the obvious example, someone else would. ‘Mark Spitz, the swimming star of the seventy-two Olympics, is said to have scooped up something in excess of $5,000,000.’

Valenti gave a jump in his seat.

‘Do you see the point of the story?’ Serafin asked, a missionary gleam behind his gold frames. ‘Given the proper encouragement, a girl can beat the world.’

‘And make at least ten million,’ added Valenti, no slouch in speculative mathematics.

‘We’ll come to that at the proper time,’ Serafin told him with pedagogic stiffness. ‘The position as I saw it in 1978 was that Goldine deserved a chance to fulfill her potential as a runner. But these days you need training resources more sophisticated than flatirons. An all-weather running surface, a fully fitted gymnasium and, of course, a knowledgeable coach. And research has shown that training at high altitude markedly improves athletic performance. For reasons I shall explain, I had decided to keep Goldine’s ability secret for as long as possible. But my personal savings were not sufficient to provide the facilities she needed.’

‘That’s how the rest of us came in,’ Armitage told Dryden.

‘Yes, indeed,’ said Serafin with a slight smile. ‘I was fortunate in knowing Dick through my work. He was referred to me when he sustained a hamstring injury. I occasionally treat patients privately, to keep myself from becoming too much of a theoretician. Somehow we got around to talking about women in sports, and I spoke in general terms about Goldine and my hopes of providing her with a high-altitude training camp. I mentioned the idea of approaching possible sponsors, and Dick was enthusiastic to be included. So I made soundings among other acquaintances, putting my project as a commercial proposition — I couldn’t ask people to finance us without some return on their investment. Mr. Valenti was one of those who agreed to form a consortium dedicated to making Goldine the golden girl of the next Olympics.

‘Between us, we put up more than $200 and $5000 as an initial outlay. I purchased a strip of land in the Sierras, $6000 feet above sea level, and had the camp built there to the consortium’s specifications in the most stringent secrecy — the contractors thought we were setting it up for a challenger for the heavyweight boxing title — at a cost of $150,000. The total outlay will be in excess of half a million.’

Dryden looked at the ceiling.

‘Should still leave a modest profit margin,’ said Valenti. ‘We aim to clear at least ten million. That’s where you come in, buster.’