Memorable is such a subjective term. Just take the average All Black fan: yeah, there’s some who’ll remember every ruck and maul on the way to back-to-back World Cup wins, but there are even more who’ll remember the sting of the five failed campaigns between 1987 and 2011. Given that, you can make a solid argument that the 18-20 defeat to France in Cardiff in 2007 was more “memorable” than the 34-17 win over Australia in 2015.
Now switch your mindset to the Olympic Games, where every single day there are scores of stories of wins and losses. Some will stick with you longer than others, but for the vast majority, the results are secondary to the event itself. It is for this reason, the majority of Memorable Moments selected here are not results-focused.
Instead, the memories that are created at the Games tend to be a mixture of politics and pathos. So, if you want to read about Snell and Halberg, Bond and Murray, this is the wrong place for you. If you want to read about extraordinary happenings, controversies and tragedy, stick around.
Words: Dylan Cleaver, Cameron McMillan, Chris Rattue
Design: Laura Hutchins, Paul Slater
Editing: Warwick Church, Eduan Roos
‘Smash them like guitars’ (2000)
On the eve of the men's 4x100m freestyle relay, American Gary Hall Jr stoked the rivalry with the Australian team by saying the US would “smash them like guitars”.
It was a curious simile to use, essentially positioning his foursome as the rock stars of the pool.
It meant the Americans had to match their talk on the water. They did not, as Aussie foursome Michael Klim, who broke the individual world record on his opening leg, Chris Fydler, Ashley Callus and Ian Thorpe broke the relay world record to beat the Americans, anchored by Hall Jr, by 0.19 seconds. The Australians, of course, celebrated on the pool deck by playing air guitars.
To his credit, Hall Jr was first to congratulate the winners and was surely basing his confidence on the fact America has never lost the event before.
He still finished with two golds in Sydney (50m freestyle and 4x100m medley) and five for his career, but it's the pre-meet hype quote that he is remembered for.
Amateur hour (1912)
American Jim Thorpe is arguably the most remarkable all-round sportsperson in history.
He won the pentathlon and decathlon gold medals at the Stockholm Olympics in 1912 and was welcomed in glory. But Thorpe was cruelly stripped of the medals for breaking amateur regulations.
Thorpe, of part American Native descent, was probably just another victim of racism. His offence against the Olympics' amateur regulations involved the very meagre pay of a semi-professional baseballer.
American Football legend, major league baseballer and even a professional basketballer amongst many sports he excelled in, illness and poverty hit Thorpe’s later life.
And justice eluded him, his Olympic medals only reinstated decades after his 1953 death at the age of 65.
Freeman sends Sydney into raptures (2000)
Talk about pressure. Cathy Freeman was the face of the Sydney Olympics after lighting the cauldron in the opening ceremony. Eleven days later expectations were as high as the roof over Stadium Australia as she lined up for the 400m final in front of a packed house.
She was the two-time reigning world champion but had fallen one short of gold four years earlier in Atlanta. Defending 400m and 200m Olympic champion Marie-José Pérec of France was meant to stand in her way, until she left Sydney just days before the competition claiming a man threatened her in a hotel lobby. Police found no evidence of the interaction.
Running in the iconic full body suit complete with hood, Freeman broke away in the final 60m to claim the gold among thousands of flashbulbs. It was one of the most rapturously received home victories in Olympic history and as if to prove that being the home favourite is difficult to live up to, particularly on the track, the next two Olympics would showcase that fact.
In Athens, reigning 200m champion Kostas Kenteris and his training partner and 100m favourite Ekaterina Thanou missed a doping test a day before the Games after staging a motorbike accident, which led to their withdrawal from the Olympics. In 2008, Chinese hurdling hope Liu Xiang, one of the faces of the Beijing Games, pulled up injured in the heats in failing to defend his 110m title.
More blood in the water (1956)
The most (in)famous water polo match in history and one of the most vicious sporting matches of any type, the Hungarians chose the Melbourne Games to show the Russians just what they thought of their tanks rolling into Budapest.
Played in a febrile atmosphere just weeks after the Soviets invaded Budapest to violently suppress the anti-communist revolution, the match became a Cold War touchstone. It moved from physical altercation to altercation, with frequent stoppages for underwater headlocks, kicking, punching and grappling.
Hungary, the better team throughout the semifinal, were leading 4-0 as time was ticking away. It was then Ervin Zador, Hungary’s two-goal hero, was king hit by Valentin Prokopov and was hauled out of the pool with blood pouring from his head.
Spectators and Hungarian officials charged the Russian bench before security and police intervened. The match was called off.
“I [marked] Prokopov for the last few minutes, and I told him that he was a loser and that his family were losers and so on,” Zador was later quoted as saying. “There was no problem until I made a huge error… I shouldn’t have taken my eye off Prokopov. The next thing I saw, he had his full upper body out of the water and he was swinging at my head with an open arm.”
Hungary, without the injured Zador, would win the final 2-1 against Yugoslavia, but few remember that game.
A Quentin Tarantino-produced documentary about the match, Freedom’s Fury (2006), was narrated by Mark Spitz and received critical acclaim. The match is still celebrated in Hungary. The movie Szabadsag Szerelem, released also in 2006, the 50th anniversary of the Games, is a testimony to how its participants are viewed. Translated it means, Children of Glory.
Louganis cracks head (1988)
Greg Louganis had a problem.
An immaculate diver known for millimeter-precision on his jumps, tucks and turns, had got the requisite elevation from the 3m springboard, but insufficient trajectory for the reverse two-and-a-half pike. Still, he continues, clipping his head on the board, causing a gash that resulted in stitches and a concussion.
He returned 35 minutes later, reeled off an immaculate dive to win that event by a record margin, then added the 10m platform for good measure.
What was truly remarkable was that Louganis spent those 35 minutes in blind panic.
He was HIV positive and even knowing fully diluted blood in chlorinated water posed no risk, the stigma surrounding the disease in the 80s would have made his future in the competition untenable if people found out.
He stayed schtum until 1995.
Eric the Eel (2000)
Fun or farce?
Type ‘Eric Moussambani’ into Google and it lists related searches as Olympic greats like Jesse Owens, Nadia Comaneci, Michael Phelps and Usain Bolt – pretty impressive company for arguably one of the worst Olympians of all time. A tad harsh, but Moussambani wasn't expected to light it up at the Sydney Olympics in 2000.
He gained entry under an IOC wildcard draw created to encourage participation by developing countries. Hailing from Equatorial Guinea, Moussambani only took up swimming eight months before the Olympics and trained in a 12-metre hotel pool in Malabo, which he only had access to for one hour each day.
He lined up in the 100m freestyle heats and after two other swimmers were disqualified for a false start – think of the cost to fly athletes to Australia, house and feed them for a couple of weeks only to watch them fall into a pool a split second early – he became the lone athlete in the race. In his first swim in a 50m pool, what transpired was hard to call swimming. He eventually completed the two laps in 1m 52.72s — more than a minute shy of gold medal winner Pieter van den Hoogenband in 47.84s.
Moussambani’s swim became the talking point of the Olympics and he was dubbed Eric the Eel. He won his heat though. Much like Owens, Phelps and Comaneci it's hard to argue he wasn't a winner.
Ali lights up Atlanta (1996)
The Champ was ailing, the Champ had a difficult relationship with the Olympics and the Champ was a Muslim in the Christian stronghold of America’s south.
In one of the most emotionally charged moments in Olympic history, the Champ, Muhammad Ali, steadied his right hand as his left tremored uncontrollably, lit the flame that opened the final Olympics of the 20th century.
It was a moment loaded with symbolism. A light-heavyweight gold medalist in Rome, Cassius Clay returned to his hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, and to the same segregationist and racist attitudes he’d always encountered.
Infuriated at being refused service in a restaurant, Ali allegedly threw his medal into the Ohio River (though he has walked back on that particular legend when pressed).
What is not in doubt, however, is that Ali became a touchstone for the civil rights movement and the most famous sportsman on the planet during the course of his epic career. He was also left physically debilitated by his sport.
So it was a poignant moment when Ali, wracked by Parkinson’s, lit the flame.
When you think about the Atlanta Games you think about Michael Johnson and his gold shoes and the pipe bomb at the park, but most of all you think about the Champ.
National treasure to national disgrace (1988)
It remains one of the most iconic Olympic images: Ben Johnson, out in front, right arm raised, index finger pointing to the sky as he turns to his left to confirm that his hated rival Carl Lewis is safely behind him.
It should have been the end of the story, but it was just the start.
Johnson was immediately declared a national treasure in Canada, having secured that country’s first athletics gold since 1932 and held a triumphant post-race press conference where he said, among other things, “this world record will last 50 years – maybe 100”, and “a gold medal – that’s something no one can take away from you”.
Wrong in fact. And wrong again.
Johnson’s brilliant 9.79s was expunged from the record books before the ink was dry and his gold medal was soon returned after he tested positive for the steroid stanozolol.
The national treasure was now a national disgrace, but with time it is possible to feel a shred of sympathy for the beleaguered Johnson.
Richard Moore’s captivating book, The Dirtiest Race in History: Ben Johnson, Carl Lewis and the 1988 Olympic 100m Final, makes it clear that Johnson was dirty, but then again, at least six of the eight finalists, including Lewis and eventual silver medallist Linford Christie, were. In fact, of the major contenders, only the US’ Calvin Smith remains untainted.
Pipped by a fingernail: Phelps' photo finish (2008)
With 99 metres of the 100m butterfly done and dusted it appeared Michael Phelps’ quest to break Mark Spitz’ record of most gold medals at an Olympics was done.
Phelps was half a stroke behind Serbia’s Milorad Cavic and with six gold medals already sitting on his nightstand back at the Beijing athletes’ village, it seemed he’d be taking a silver to join them. However, as the two touched the wall and their times flashed up it read, ‘Phelps 50.58, Cavic 50.59.’
Remarkably, Cavic mistimed his reach for the wall and replays showed he’d missed out denying Phelps by a fingernail. One image showed that maybe it was a tie. Phelps went on to go one better than Spitz’ effort in Munich, 1972, with number eight the next day in the men’s 4x100m medley relay.
Last July, The Ringer revisited the moment in an interview with Cavic in which he said:
“There really aren’t too many days when everything is up and going when I’m not reminded about it.”
Living the Dream (1992)
Before the Barcelona Olympics, only amateur athletes were allowed to compete in the basketball which meant no NBA players.
However, in 1989 basketball governing body FIBA changed the rules, which was bad news for the reigning champion Russians - but great news for basketball fans.
It meant NBA legends Michael Jordan, Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, Scottie Pippen, Charles Barkley, Karl Malone, as well as college star Christian Laettner would take to the court.
The Dream Team was created and they were mobbed wherever they went, their collective popularity outshining every other athlete in Barcelona and then some.
According to reports, they took a somewhat lackadaisical approach to the tournament with Jordan one of the few players to actually study the opposition while other members socialised in Monaco and Barcelona. Despite that they blitzed the competition, beginning with a 116-48 thrashing of Angola.
The US finished with an average winning margin of 43.8 points as they beat Croatia 117-85 in the gold medal game. On the medal dais, Nike-sponsored Jordan famously covered the team’s Reebok logo with the American flag.
Since the 1992 Games, the USA has won five of the last six men’s basketball gold medals with their only failure being the 2004 team in Athens which finished with bronze – a bad dream, perhaps.
A boxing farce in two parts (1988)
Violence, corruption, cheating – we bring you the boxing from Seoul.
With the absence of powerhouse Cuba, who boycotted the Olympics, many of the divisions were wide open and the host nation targeted them obsessively. It created an oppressive, heated atmosphere at the Jamsil Students’ Gymnasium. The conditions were ripe for controversy.
In a second-round bantamweight bout one of the tournament favourites, Byun Jung-il was matched against Bulgarian Aleksandar Hristov. New Zealand referee Keith Walker docked Byun two points for multiple instances of headbutting and he eventually lost the fight in a 4-1 decision. Walker was attacked by the Korean coaching delegation and a riot broke out in the crowd. He eventually fled the country, fearing for his safety.
For his part, Byun staged a sit-in in the ring for 67 minutes until organisers simply turned the lights out and left him there.
The Koreans would get a measure of revenge in the light-middleweight division. In one of the most one-sided gold medal matches ever staged, Roy Jones Jr toyed with Park Si-hun – he landed 86 punches to 32 – but somehow found himself down 3-2 on the cards. One judge admitted giving his card to the Korean to placate the crowd. Two of the judges were subsequently banned for life.
The Perfect 10 (1976)
Before there was Simone Biles there was Nadia Comaneci…
It is difficult to look back at the smile and remarkable gymnastics of tiny teenaged Romanian Comaneci in the same light that she created around the world in 1976.
The widespread abuse of kids in gymnastics programmes is a dark business and the instigators include a Romanian couple – Bela and Marta Karolyi – who later transported their foul deeds to America. Comaneci is said to be among their first victims.
But Comaneci mania flooded a naive world, after the 14-year-old won three golds in Montreal and landed perfect 10s in seven routines.
Her first 10 was also an Olympic first and so unexpected that the electronic scoreboards weren’t able to show 10, so flashed up one instead.
“I’m not sure what was the definition of perfection and whatever that meant… my goal was to not make a major mistake and hit the ground,” Comaneci said.
Derek Redmond tears up (1992)
As we might have mentioned at the top, triumph and disaster meet at such regular intervals at the Olympics both those imposters need some special sauce to stand out.
Derek Redmond was a live medal chance in the 400m, having won his quarterfinal and was well-placed in the semifinal before tearing his hamstring in the back straight. That in itself wasn’t a surprise: Redmond had to pull out of his heat 90 seconds before it started due to an Achilles tendon injury and all told had endured eight surgeries over his career. Perhaps sensing that he would never get another Olympic opportunity, Redmond decided to make this one last. Rising from his haunches he proceeded to hobble the rest of the distance in front of an increasingly appreciative crowd.
Suddenly a large man appeared from the crowd and brushed aside an official who attempted to halt his progress. Jim Redmond reached his son and reportedly said to him: “Son, you don’t have to do this.” To which Derek replied through uncontrollable sobbing: “Yes I do.”
Father and son reached the finish line in front of a now adoring crowd and despite the unwanted attentions of Olympic officials who clearly didn’t understand the “it’s-bigger-than-sport” story even as it unfolded in real-time in front of their eyes.
Close to 30 years on, the footage still has the capacity to move you.
Pietri, the dish (1908)
If sports photography has a flashpoint – pardon the pun – moment when it becomes an integral part of the sporting canon (yes, another pun), it would be the image of Dorando Pietri inexplicably being ushered across the finish line in the 1908 marathon.
The diminutive Italian pastry chef was the first to enter London’s White City Stadium in the first Olympic marathon to be run under the 42.195 km distance, due to starting from a specially selected lawn within Windsor Castle.
Some 75 athletes entered but only 27 finished and it looked like South African Charles Hefferon would take it out until the race leader accepted a drink, some reports say a bottle of champagne, that he said gave him a cramp.
That saw Pietri overtake him before suffering from dehydration once he entered the stadium, falling down four times during the final lap before the finish line. Each time he fell, Pietri was helped up by officials, taking 10 minutes to complete the final 350 metres before seemingly crossing for gold.
Johnny Hayes arrived a minute later and immediately the American team protested Pietri’s win and he was disqualified. Champagne quaffing Hefferon finished with silver.
Pietri didn't leave empty-handed. In fact, he was arguably the star of the Games.
Queen Alexandra ended up gifting him a gilded silver cup for his efforts, while famed Sherlock Holmes author Arthur Conan Doyle, working as a Daily Mail reporter, started a fundraiser for Pietri to open a bakery in his native town. Composer Irving Berlin even wrote a song to honour him.
Pietri quickly became a celebrity before squandering his money on a failed hotel.
The Age of the Boycott (1976-84)
Thanks, New Zealand Rugby.
Okay, not totally fair because Olympic boycotts had been around since 1936, when Spain refused to compete in Berlin and the 1956 Melbourne Games had seen several countries pull out for a variety of reasons, ranging from the USSR’s invasion of Hungary to the Suez Crisis.
Unquestionably, however, the arrogance of NZ Rugby ushered in the “golden age” of boycotts, when the All Blacks tour to Apartheid-era South Africa saw 26 African countries boycott Montreal (it would become 27 when Egypt pulled out three days after the Games started).
Among other things, it denied the sporting world a potential repeat of the Filbert Bayi-John Walker 1500m showdown that so electrified the Christchurch Commonwealth Games two years earlier.
Four years later in response to the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, 62 nations, led by the USA, boycotted the Moscow Games.
In what was widely seen as a tit-for-tat response, 14 mainly Eastern bloc countries boycotted Los Angeles, though China did return after a 32-year absence.
The boycott tide ebbed at Seoul four years later and subsequent Olympiads have been largely free from overt political acts of absenteeism, but New Zealand will always have its own infamous place as the instigators of the golden age of boycotts.
Soviet block: Sport's most infamous ending (1972)
The Americans celebrated winning gold, but the refs had a surprise for them…
The Cold War was still in full swing – a final between the two world heavyweights was far more than a mere medal match.
The Americans, whose teams were made up of amateur collegiate players – were unbeaten in Olympic basketball and shooting for an eighth straight gold.
But the Soviets, whose state sports programmes gave them an edge in the ‘shamateur’ era, caused a massive Munich boilover as the match ended in pandemonium.
The bedlam included a Soviet-caused ruckus at the scorer’s table, a clock reset in the final seconds, a mystery hooter and all sorts of claims and counterclaims. It may be the most infamous ending in the history of sport.
Bottom line: The Soviets triumphed 51-50, a long wonder pass setting up the winning basket for Alexander Belov as the final horn sounded again.
The Soviets were naturally ecstatic as the bitter Americans – who refused their silver medals – claimed they were robbed. While it is difficult to succinctly summarise the madness of those few seconds, it is difficult not to sympathise with their belief they were stitched up.
Within six years the great Belov was dead at the age of 26, from cancer.
Lightning Bolt strikes (2008)
Before Bolt, there was not a lot to celebrate in the world of sprinting. Cast your eyes down to No 14 on this list and from there traverse through the likes of Justin Gatlin, Tim Montgomery, Marion Jones and Balco.
After Bolt, there was an acknowledgment that we’d lived through the era of the most charismatic track and field athlete in history.
His prowess was known in athletics circles pre-Beijing but it was his performance in the 100m final there that announced him to the world. In one of the more extraordinary sights in Olympic history, Bolt so obliterated the field he slowed down and showboated with close to 20m still to run.
His 9.69s was impressive enough – Richard Thompson was second in 9.89s – but analysis of Bolt's run by the Institute of Theoretical Astrophysics at the University of Oslo, suggested that the Jamaican could have finished in 9.55s had he pushed to the end.
Bolt copped a bit of flak for his celebrations, including from buttoned-down IOC president Jacques Rogge, but it was unlikely to keep him awake at night as he added eight more golds to his Olympic tally, remaining unbeaten at 100m, 200m and the 4x100m across Beijing, London and Rio.
He would have to return one, when a blood sample from teammate Nesta Carter came back positive, eight years after Jamaica’s 4x100m win in Beijing.
Almost as important to the sport as his infectious personality and flat out speed has been the fact that Bolt has never returned a negative test.
Black power (1968)
In the age of Black Lives Matter, rainbow ticks and various social justice initiatives, it is hard to comprehend just how controversial Tommie Smith and John Carlos’ actions were in Mexico City.
Smith, the 200m gold medallist and Carlos, the bronze, stood on the dais with their fists gloved and raised in tribute to the Black Power movement.
The two men fell out for years over whose idea it was to protest but in more recent years have settled on the idea that they both planned it over a number of days. They wore gloves to represent black America, and removed their shoes and wore black socks to symbolise the poverty of their communities. Smith wore a scarf and Carlos a bead necklace, recalling lynching and the raised fist “stood for the power in black America”, Smith said.
They received an unexpected boost when Australian silver medallist Peter Norman wore the Olympic Project for Human Rights badges in solidarity.
The protest was, according to some contemporary reports, barely acknowledged at the stadium, but it did not go unnoticed.
Enter Avery Brundage, a thoroughly reprehensible human – a dyed-in-the-wool white supremacist – who held the IOC presidency from 1952-72.
Brundage, an American, threatened the entire US team with expulsion unless they acted against the pair and they were given 48 hours to pack and leave.
“Once we got back we were ostracised, even by our own,” Smith said. “Folks were scared, man. No jobs. We couldn’t find work. People even told us, ‘We can’t get close to you guys because we have our own jobs to protect.’ These were my friends. At least, they were my friends before I left for Mexico City.”
Smith and Carlos found redemption. They have won awards and have statues in their likeness. As the godfathers of the activist athlete era, they have overcome.
How the other half runs (1948)
The Olympic Games had been a male-only enterprise until 1928 but it wasn’t until 1948 and the emergence of a prejudice-busting Dutchwoman that perceptions as to the credibility of women’s sport started to shift.
Fanny Blankers-Koen is arguably the most important female athlete in history. In winning four golds in London, matching Owens' record in Berlin before the world exploded, the “Flying Dutchmam” shattered preconceived notions of motherhood effectively signalling the end of athletic aspiration.
Blankers-Koen was 30 and the mother of two when she dominated the cinders at Wembley Stadium.
In 1936 she went to Berlin and finished sixth in the high jump and fifth as part of the 4x100m relay team. Her most treasured possession, however, was the autograph of Owens.
Blankers-Koen spent the war years in occupied Netherlands and fit a number of national and world records around the birth of her two children. She was criticised for being a selfish mother and that only escalated when she announced her intention to travel to London for the 1948 Olympics.
“I got very many bad letters, people writing that I must stay home with my children and that I should not be allowed to run on a track with – how do you say it? – short trousers,” she told the New York Times in 1982. “But I was a good mother. I had no time for much besides my house chores and training, and when I went shopping it was only to buy food for the family and never dresses.
“One newspaperman wrote that I was too old to run, that I should stay at home and take care of my children. When I got to London, I pointed my finger at him and I said: ‘I show you’.”
She did, winning the 100m, 80m hurdles, 200m and came from 5m behind in the anchor leg of the 4x100m relay to lead her Dutch team to gold. It was a stunning haul but even then she was short-changed, only being allowed to enter three individual events when she was the current world record-holder in the long and high jumps as well.
Blankers-Koen returned home to much fanfare and a bicycle gifted to her by the citizens of Amsterdam. Her trailblazing legacy was more profound than even she could have imagined. In 1972, she bumped into Owens at the Munich Games and started to excitedly introduce herself to tell him about the autograph she still had: “You don’t have to tell me who you are, I know everything about you,” Owens said.
Jesse Owens beats the Aryans (1936)
Anybody who thinks the modern Olympics came fully formed out of the mind of Pierre de Coubertin in 1896 probably hasn’t read a lot about the early events. They were largely homespun affairs, were often attached to other exhibitions and were a bit of a shambles.
That changed in Berlin 1936, when Germany’s ruling National Socialist Party used the event to showcase the militaristic discipline that it would so grotesquely demonstrate in a few years’ time.
They also planned to use it to confirm the widely held belief that the Aryans were the master race (they were not the first to do this: in 1904 the “Savage Olympics” were staged in St Louis alongside the actual Olympics and the World Fair to prove anthropologically “in quantitative measure the inferiority of primitive peoples”).
What a shock it was to see, then, a Black American, the son of a sharecropper and grandson of a slave, win four golds under the watchful eye of Adolf Hitler – and, importantly for his legacy, in front of the cameras of propagandist filmmaker Leni Riefenstahl – and dominate the discussion.
Owens was a global superstar, but it didn’t do him much good at home as he returned to a life of struggle, for many years taking races against animals and automobiles to make money.
The Munich tragedy (1972)
There had never been an Olympic story like it and hopefully never will be again.
The simple facts are these: Palestinian Black September militants broke into the Israeli lodgings at Munich’s Olympic village, killed two and took nine hostages. Having apparently negotiated safe passage to Cairo, five of the eight terrorists, all the hostages and a West German policeman were killed during a calamitous rescue attempt at Furstenfeldbruck, a Nato airbase.
There was nothing simple about this story, however, and its tentacles were far-reaching. It turned out that West German authorities were armed with startlingly accurate information about a planned attack but didn’t act on it; that security was inconceivably lax at the Village; and that the planning for the ambush at the airbase was fractured and chaotic.
Like many tragedies, it has contributed to the pop culture canon, with Academy award-winning documentary One Day in September, Sword of Gideon and Steven Spielberg’s Munich among the titles.