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Tuesday, September 19
Kennedy was man without two countries
By Wayne Drehs
ESPN.com
If anyone could complain about the role politics plays in the Olympics, Bruce Kennedy would be that man.
On three separate occasions, politics robbed Kennedy, a javelin thrower, of competing on the world's grandest sports stage. Yet talk to him today, 20 years removed from his last political disappointment, and you find a man who feels more blessed than bitter.
"A lot of people can't believe it, but I don't regard my experiences as negative," Kennedy said. "I was just a regular kid growing up in Africa. Athletics helped me go to a university for free, meet my wife, and become a citizen of the world's greatest country. Otherwise I would have been stuck in Africa fighting a war."
Kennedy, born and raised in the African country of Rhodesia (which became Zimbabwe in 1980), came to the U.S. on a track scholarship to the University of California-Berkeley in 1969. He walked off the plane with $50 in his wallet and little knowledge of the American culture.
"Arriving at Berkeley, at that time, there were all sorts of protestors and drugs, People's Park, it was chaos," Kennedy said. "I used to walk down the street in awe."
Three years after arriving in the U.S., Kennedy would endure his first Olympic disappointment, when Rhodesia was banned from the 1972 Munich Games because of apartheid. The team was originally told it could compete under its old English flag, but after arriving in Munich, numerous other African countries threatened to boycott and the pressure was too much for the International Olympic Committee (IOC).
"So under all the pressure, they moved us out of the Olympic village and into an army base nearby so we could watch as spectators," Kennedy said. "It was still a great experience, but a bitter disappointment."
Four years later, Rhodesia wasn't even allowed to travel to the Montreal Olympics, again keeping Kennedy from competition. In 1977, Kennedy, who married in 1973, became a U.S. citizen. He figured Olympic politics were now behind him. That same year his javelin skills peaked and he won the U.S. Championship.
Three years later, though, shortly before Kennedy threw an all-time personal best, President Carter ordered the U.S. boycott. It was the third straight time politics kept Kennedy home. It all finally hit him after the U.S. trials.
"As soon as the competition was over and I knew I was on the team, I broke down and started crying," Kennedy said. "I did everything that was physically possible and I still wasn't going. It had been a goal of mine since I was 9 years old and it just hit me. I worked so hard and I had made it, but yet I hadn't made it."
Even more difficult was that Zimbabwe made its return to the Olympics in 1980. Kennedy had the option of petitioning the IOC to represent Zimbabwe, but his newfound allegiance to the United States was greater than his desire to compete in the Olympics.
"I'm an American, pure and simple," Kennedy said. "You just don't trade your citizenship for convenience, when it's right for you. That's an honor -- one of the greatest moments of my life. And I became a citizen to stay here and live here, not to compete in the Olympics.
"We're Americans first and athletes second. When the president says boycott, you've got to go boycott."
Kennedy went to Stanford in 1982 to get his MBA and started getting antsy as the 1984 Los Angeles Games approached. Though Kennedy had already retired from the sport, the fact that the '84 Games were in his back yard was an opportunity too good to pass up. Kennedy began training, easily regaining his physical strength. But he couldn't pick up the mental sharpness. A poor performance at the Modesto Relays helped Kennedy realize his Olympic dream was over.
"I just couldn't get it together mentally," Kennedy said. "I had a huge workload at school and I just couldn't keep up. But there was satisfaction knowing that I tried one last time. I knew it was time to get on with my life."
Kennedy, now 49, lives in Santa Barbara with his wife Barbara, and his two children, 13-year-old Heather and 11-year-old Colin. He works in Pasadena as an investment manager and draws close comparisons between the business and athletics worlds.
"The two are very similar," Kennedy said. "My performance is based in points so at every month I can see how I did against my rivals. It's the same thing that the investment process is just as disciplined as the athletic process."
Kennedy said he rarely shares his Olympic story with clients and co-workers and instead keeps a low profile. Just this spring, though, a Japanese television program called "Unbelievable" did a piece on Kennedy.
"Out of nowhere I got this phone call -- they couldn't believe all that's happened to me," Kennedy said. "People think it's a great story, but it happened 20 years ago."
Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com.
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