What’s it like to win an Olympic gold medal? And how does it change your life? In the third of a three-part series, Michael Burgess talks to high jump history maker Hamish Kerr on how he narrowly avoided catastrophe on the way
Hamish Kerr: Olympic gold medalist on golden joy, overcoming adversity and family bonds – On The Up

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Hamish Kerr celebrates after making the Paris high jump final. Photo / Photosport
Seen as a podium favourite – and ranked world No 1 - he had a major early stumble in qualifying.
At 2.20m, usually an elementary clearance for Kerr – he had missed twice. There was just one more shot.
It meant he was on the verge of a shock elimination and also, as he reveals now, a premature end to his career.
“I think I’d be looking for a job right now if I hadn’t got that 2.20,” Kerr tells the Herald.
“Given the fact I hadn’t made the final at the last two World Champs (2022 and 2023) we had made some big changes last year because of that.
“We were really intentional, so that the qualifying round wouldn’t be as unfavourable as those ones.”
“So if I hadn’t got that 2.20, that would have actually been the worst result that I had in qualifying ever, even worse than the other ones.
“And knowing that I was in the best condition, everything we had done, we absolutely nailed it leading in. [So] for me, it would have just proved that I didn’t have what it takes. That, at a major event, I was always going to be missing that last little spark.”
Thankfully, the Sliding Doors scenario unfolded differently.
Kerr made the clearance – “the most pivotal moment of my life” - booked his spot in the last 12 (from the 32 strong field) then jumped like a dream when it mattered, winning gold in the most dramatic way, via a jump off with American Shelby McEwen, after they couldn’t be split at 2.36m.
His golden jump is etched deep in the memory.
“We know when we put our foot down [for take off] whether we’re in the right position or not,” explains Kerr.
“That doesn’t necessarily mean that we are going to clear the bar but if you’re in the wrong position, you generally know you’re not going to clear the bar.
“I was like, ‘Okay, I think I’m in the right place. This could be the jump that will do it.”
Kerr took flight, soaring into the Paris sky.
“It was a real slow motion moment, the jump itself,” recalls Kerr.
“Usually at the time, it’s a blink of the eye – you don’t really feel anything. But I will never forget that feeling of clearing it and knowing it was all over. And then a little bit of shock as well.”
It was a sentiment echoed around New Zealand.
The pure drama – along with the unique achievement, in a classic Olympic event – resonated in a special way with Kiwis, an undoubted highlight of a spectacular Games for this country.
“It was overwhelming,” agrees Kerr, who didn’t leave the stadium until 2am, following media responsibilities and drug testing, then celebrated with family and friends, before an early start for official functions the next day.
“I had less than an hour’s sleep,” he says.
“But even if I could have slept, I wouldn’t have been able to, with all the emotions.”

The moment changed everything, catapulting Kerr to national prominence, the talk of New Zealand.
When the 28-year-old arrived home – after a holiday in France with his girlfriend Maddie and his three siblings – there were functions, appearances, invites and school visits, as everyone wanted to meet the man that made history.
It was fun and there were surreal moments, like hitching a ride on a private jet back to Christchurch, after a rich lister at an Auckland event asked how he was getting home.
There’s much more recognition now, everywhere he goes.
That’s cool, he says, as many Kiwis recognise you but don’t say anything, while others will recount how they were jumping around the lounge with their children as they watched him perform.
“That’s special,” says Kerr. “Sport is about the moments you share with people around you.”
But the new profile can also be disconcerting.
“You’re at the supermarket, just grabbing your bag of chips and your bottle of Coke, and then suddenly someone comes up and wants a photo of you,” says Kerr.
“So you have to be a bit more wary.”
Before Christmas, he was selling “a bunch of stuff” on Facebook Marketplace but eventually reverted to using his partner’s account and being careful about giving out his address.
“It makes it easier to sell stuff, but you risk not having a quick pickup and people wanting a bit more from you,” laughs Kerr.
But overall, Kerr, who has always been a proud ambassador for his sport, is happy to spread the gospel.
“Growing up, I was so inspired by all the athletes and now I’m in a position where I can also try and make a small difference to the country with the inspiration that I provided,” says Kerr.
“I feel very privileged.”

Kerr had heard about the post-Games blues and understands the scenario.
“You go into the village and there’s 10,000 other Olympians who are all like you and have dedicated their lives to something that’s so special. But then, no matter what lofty heights you reach at those games you come home, wake up in the morning and life goes on.
“Probably the darker side of the success last year is you arrive home and you don’t really know what you’re doing. But I was okay with that. I knew it would take a while.”
Kerr enjoyed leisure and family time, with no rush to return to the track.
“You never have the time again,” says Kerr. “So you need to make the most of it.”
A family canoeing trip on the Whanganui River before Christmas was an undoubted highlight, with Kerr copping gentle ribbing in the group chat for his lack of gear.
“I’m the least outdoorsy, which is quite funny,” says Kerr.
“‘Just bring your sleeping bag’ they said. ‘Surely you got one of those’.”
When he returned to work in the New Year, there was a renewed sense of purpose, given the lingering impact of the Paris pinnacle.
“It’s changed my confidence in what is possible,” says Kerr. “We had a plan at the start of 2024 and through that we actually achieved the greatest heights that you can in the sport. So it was confirmation.
Kerr has big goals over the next four years, though admits there is more pressure now being at the top, given the expectation. But there is also comfort.
“I’m looking forward to having to defend that and really work hard towards what’s next,” says Kerr.
“But it’s also one of those things. For the rest of my life, I will always be the Olympic champion in the high jump, 2024.
“That’s probably not going to completely sink in until post-career, as I finish up and my accolades continue to haunt me rather than for a lot of aspects [where] you move into the next phase and lose that stuff quite quickly.
“Being an Olympic champion, you’re always going to be that high, so it’s going to be an interesting space.”
Michael Burgess has been a sports journalist for the NZ Herald since 2005, covering the Olympics, Fifa World Cups, and America’s Cup campaigns. He is a co-host of the Big League podcast.