David Leggat: More than one face of bravery

Tears flowed in distinctly different ways on the first two nights of the track and field competition at the Commonwealth Games.

The full house at the City of Manchester Stadium metaphorically wept yesterday as the two big British hopes in the 100m final, Dwain Chambers and Mark Lewis-Francis, pulled up lame a few strides from the finish.

That square-off between two men who are different in personality and have a strong personal dislike for each other had been billed for days here as the stellar Games confrontation on the track.

When the winner, St Kitts and Nevis runner Kit Collins, crossed the line, it was greeted with disappointment you could almost cut with a knife.

Collins is no slouch himself, with a world championship medal to his name and who was clearly in charge when the British pair crashed.

Backtrack 24 hours and there were tears of a real and personal kind from New Zealand hammer thrower Tasha Williams.

Having qualified for the final in second place with a 62.37m throw, she had genuine hopes of a medal.

But it all went pear-shaped for the Canterbury athlete, who turns 29 on Wednesday.

On an ideal night for throwing, she managed to squeak over 60m once, and that effort of 60.43m was only good enough for sixth. When it was all over, Williams faced up to a phalanx of journalists beneath the stand with a brave face.

Yes, there had been a medal for the taking. Yes, conditions were fine. Yes, her technique in training was good, but it just didn't click in the evening. No, there were no excuses.

When she finished the interview, she walked a few paces along the path to the changing rooms before her real emotions flooded out. She collapsed, sobbing in the arms of one of the New Zealand section coaches.

After a couple of minutes to compose herself, she answered a handful more questions, her voice quavering, before once again breaking down.

It was the perfect answer to those who wonder what percentage of an athlete's makeup is human and what is automaton.

Williams deserved enormous credit for the way she handled her situation. Ducking for cover was the easy option.

And Williams was not alone that night. As she was going through her highly-visible personal anguish, an Australian heptathlete walked past behind her, having just come off the track, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Depending on the individual viewpoint, there were two ways to look at Williams' night: either she blew a glorious chance and deserved little sympathy; or she had a shocker at the worst possible moment and warranted a large measure of respect for the way she handled her post-event plight.

Whatever, it's some week to have a birthday.

Full coverage:
nzherald.co.nz/manchester2002

Commonwealth Games info and related links