The story of Steve Hooker

Absolutely an amasing guy!

THE knock on Steve Hooker’s door came early on Saturday. On one side was Hooker, the captain of Australia’s athletics team. He had not slept well - not all week - his injured thigh and the stress of his situation having joined forces to keep him awake.

On the other side of the door, in more ways than one, was coach Alex Parnov. After a war-council with the team physiotherapist and doctor, Parnov had been chosen to deliver the agreed message: Please don’t jump.

‘‘Steve, you are a great athlete,’’ his coach told Hooker. ‘‘Maybe in a couple of weeks you are able to jump a world record. Please think.’’

Ultimately, though, it was Hooker’s body, Hooker’s goal to win gold as leader of the team - and Hooker’s decision to make. He was determined to compete. The medical men were not so keen.

Captain Hook was seriously crook. Twelve days earlier he had torn his adductor - or so they believed. An MRI scan had confirmed that diagnosis. It is a three- to four-week injury, team doctor Adam Castricum said.

His right inside thigh was painful but, surprisingly, Hooker was able to restart light training after just four days. Only on the morning of the qualifying event did he decide to risk having a jump.

He had not touched a pole in 10 days and felt ‘‘pretty ordinary’’. He set the bar at a height he figured would be enough and sailed straight over. It caused him tremendous pain. But soon afterwards, the pain faded away. When he exercised again, it returned.

This was not typical of a muscle tear, such as the one Hooker had. His camp was confused. Doctors decided it was an additional problem - a nerve pinch of some kind. Maybe, they reasoned, there had been a misdiagnosis. Maybe there was no tear.

They did another scan. It showed the tear was worse even than when he had first done it. Team doctor Adam Castricum was flummoxed. ‘‘We’ll be rewriting a lot of textbooks with this because he has basically defied what athletes are capable of,’’ Castricum said. ‘‘He’s an amazing human being and an amazing athlete. He can have an injury and it shows up on an MRI scan but he acts like it is not there.’’

The scan had convinced Castricum that Hooker should not jump. ‘‘I didn’t want him to wreck it,’’ he said. Parnov’s job was to convince his charge that his long-term health was the most important thing. Hooker wasn’t having it.

Castricum decided to try a painkilling injection below the site, to at least block the nerve pain. They had no idea what would happen with the torn muscle if he tried to jump. The jab gave some relief but it would only last for three hours; the competition went for four.

Permission was obtained to inject him midway through the event. More than two hours in - after watching and waiting as his rivals negotiated lesser heights - Hooker went for the needle.

At that point he was feeling terrible. ‘‘I thought there was no way that I was going to jump,’’ he said. But the anaesthetic brought some relief and he decided to have a go. The strategy was all or nothing. He was to call it ‘‘a radical, ridiculous plan’’.

Hooker would wait until the bar reached 5.85 metres, a height at which he thought could win a medal, then attempt his first jump. It was an extraordinary notion. In pole-vaulting, warm-ups, run-ups and routines are thoroughly mapped and rehearsed. Nobody just comes in and jumps cold.

The Australian thought he had only one jump in him. He watched and nervously paced for more than three hours while the entire field jumped. When he entered the competition at 5.85 all but three competitors had already bombed out. He set the bar for his one jump, ran in and did not make it. ‘‘I thought that was my championship over,’’ he later said, ‘‘but I walked around a little bit, my leg felt OK and I was able to have a second jump.’’

Having hit the bar at 5.85, he did what only a true champion would do - he raised it higher, summoned something extra and tried at 5.90. He sailed over.

His arms were punching the air before he was halfway to the ground. He landed, drew himself to his knees and wept. ‘‘Just thinking about that moment it is sort of coming back now,’’ he said later. ''It’s been a very, very challenging couple of weeks … It’s probably seemed like a roller coaster to you.

‘‘It’s been 10 times as bad from my perspective. Every day it was a question of whether I’d jump or not … I’ve been sleeping like hell.’’

His opponents, who knew how hurt he was, were deflated. Two Frenchmen remained, both raised the bar higher and tried to show Hooker they could match his audacity. Both failed.

Silver medallist Romain Mesnil had been beaten in a way that defied his experience of the sport. ‘‘When he jumped 5.90 my legs went stressed,’’ Mesnil said. ‘‘I’m proud to be silver behind Steve Hooker … what he did is so fantastic.’’

Hooker climbed over the fence and shook hands with the men who had got him there: doctor, physio, coach.

I scratched him from my Fantasy athletic team based on comments before the final :frowning:

As great as the achievement was though I question him being able to get an injection to compete, especially mid competition.

//youtu.be/EwBwRCygM2A

They probably allowed it, because the event goes for so long.

The question I have. Would you of let your athlete compete. As an athlete, I would do everything I could to compete and stuff the issues afterwards. Although as a coach I would concerned about him in the future and what damage it may do…