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The summer of 1936, the Olympic Games were being held in Berlin because Adolf Hitler childishly insisted that his performers were members of a “master race”.
I wasn’t too worried about this.I’d trained, sweated myself for six years, with the Games in mind.On my way there all I could think about was taking home one or two of those gold medals.I had my eyes especially on the running broad jump.A year before, as a sophomore(大二学生).I’d set the world’s record of 26 feet 8.25 inches.Nearly everyone expected me to win this event.
I was in for a surprise.When the time came for the broad-jump trials, a tall German boy named Luz Long hit the pit at almost 26 feet on his practice leaps! And Hitler hoped to win the jump with him, If Long won, it would add some new support to the Nazis “master race” theory.After all, I am a Negro.Angry about Hitler’s ways, I determined to go and really show Der Fuhrer and his master race who was superior and who wasn’t.
An angry athlete is an athlete who will make mistakes.I was no exception.On the first two of my three qualifying jumps, I fouled(犯规)twice.
Walking from the pit, I kicked angrily at the dirt.Suddenly I felt a hand on my shoulder.I turned to look into the friendly blue eyes of the tall German broad jumper, who had easily qualified for the finals on his first attempt.He offered me a firm handshake.
“Jesse Owens, I’m Luz Long.I don’t think we’ve met.”He spoke English well, though with a German twist to it.
“Glad to meet you, ”I said.Then, trying to hide my nervousness, I added, “How are you?”
“I’m fine.The question is:How are you?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Something must be eating you, ”he said, “you should be able to qualify with your eyes closed.”
“Believe me, I know it.”I told him-and it felt good to say that to someone.