Last but not least

By EUGENE BINGHAM

The last competitor in the 2000 Olympics shared his loneliest moment with 110,000 people on Sunday night.

Just before they handed out the medals to the winners of the marathon, Elias Rodriquez of the Federated States of Micronesia stumbled into the Olympic Stadium and was stirred along by the crowd waiting for the closing ceremony.

The marathon is the loneliest of events and Rodriquez had done it hard, striding alone for much of the race before entering the packed stadium.

He was last, nearly an hour behind winner Gezahgne Abera of Ethiopia, but he had made it.

Crossing the line, he stopped his stopwatch, then raised his hands in the air, a champion acknowledging the crowd.

Rodriquez and 99 others began more than 42 km away at North Sydney.

Up and over the sparkling harbour, the last 100 athletes of the XXVII Olympiad strung out over the Harbour Bridge, eyes searching for Homebush Stadium in the distance.

The crowd at the stadium waited eagerly for the last gold medal. The city was eager to farewell as best it could these Games that had captivated them so completely.

Throughout the past two weeks, every venue was packed out, every competitor cheered loudly. Okay, so Cathy Freeman and Ian Thorpe were always the crowd favourites.

But anyone who took the field - no matter who it was, no matter what the sport - enjoyed the support of the sports-crazy Australians.

But in true Olympic spirit, it is not just the winners whose memories live on in history.

Watching from the stadium last night was one man whose tired utterance after the 1968 marathon lives on as one of the defining quotes of the Games.

Marathon runner John Akhwari, of Tanzania, was the last man to enter the stadium at Mexico. Leg bloodied and bandaged, he had struggled against the odds to make it to the line, where he received a standing ovation.

Asked why he had done it, he replied: "My country did not send me 7000 miles away to start the race. They sent me 7000 miles to finish it."