When several of my teenage contemporaries, tearaways in their youth, turned into model citizens, ie boring as hell when they grew up, it seemed reasonable to theorise that we all possess a certain quotient of ‘madness’ to get out during our lifetime, if not sooner, then later.
I don’t know whether Mel Batty was a quiet youth, I rather suspect not. But he was certainly the life and soul of the party in his maturity, a word that is somehow at odds with his effervescent behaviour. As he was known to say with glee, “I’m the batty one”.
I last saw and chatted with him around nine months ago, at the reconstituted British Athletics Writers’ lunch, where he was as ebullient as ever.
That ebullience, that love of life, that effervescence was cut short ten days ago, when Mel had a fall, then went into a coma from which he never recovered; he died last night, Monday August 29, aged 71.
As more than one respondent has replied to a circular about the bad news, ‘he was certainly a one-off’.
For those who knew him, no explanations are necessary; but if you did not have that good fortune, let me share one tale which, I think characterises Mel.
When he was a sports shoe company representative 25 years ago, he was proud to boast to anyone who would listen that he had signed up Zola Budd, the only athlete in the world who ran barefoot.
But his seminal party piece was to take off his specs, put a white handkerchief over his head, replace the glasses, and splutter, ‘The invisible man’. Thanks to his infectious humour, it was still funny on the 50th occasion.
I first saw Mel in his running heyday, winning the national cross country on the first of two consecutive occasions, in Leicester in 1964. He was as lissom then as he would become stout in later years.
After winning again in 1965, at Parliament Hill in north London, a few miles from his Essex home, the judges reckoned he was pipped by Jean Fayolle of France in the International Cross, the predecessor of the world champs. Mel always claimed with some justification that it should have been a tie at worst; and quizzed on the subject years later, some of my older colleagues at the French sports daily, L’Equipe agreed. Mel also set a world track ten miles record, and won many of the top road races in the UK prior to the marathon era.
As coach, he was as proud of his star pupil Eamonn Martin emulating him with two national cross country titles as he was of his own victories. And when Martin won the Commonwealth 10,000 metres title in Auckland prior to setting a UK record at that distance in Oslo, then winning the London Marathon, it was again typical of Mel that, not having travelled to New Zealand, but having got news of his protégé’s Commonwealth victory in the early hours of the morning in the UK, he dashed out of the house, and woke up the whole street with his celebrations. He was still telling the story six months later.
The neighbours may sleep quieter now, but like for the rest of us, without Mel around, it won’t be anywhere near as much fun.
(thanks to Mark Shearman for the photos, the second one was taken during Mel’s 10 miles track world record in 1964)
A fine tribute to a fine character, Pat.
When I bumped into Mel at Crystal Palace a month ago he was as ebullient as ever, enthusing about the emergence of another Essex boy, James Shane.
A sad loss.
Mel was certainly a great character who will be missed by the many people in the sport that knew him. Ironically, I remember Mel being the first person to tell me on arrival for the Europe Cup at Turin in 1979 that the popular James Coote (Daily Telegraph) had been killed whilst piloting his light aircraft from England to Italy for the event.
On a minor note, Eamonn Martin’s UK record at 10,000m (27:23.06) was at Oslo in 1988, prior to the Seoul Olympics. (He went into the Games ranked number one in the world at the distance). His Commonwealth title was at Auckland in early 1990, almost two years later, and he won the London Marathon in April 1993 when the race finish was on Blackfriars Bridge.
Mel’s 10 miles world record was set at the NUTS Annual track meeting at the cinder track at Hurlingham in April 1964 where he clocked 47:26.8 to win the AAA title from Fergus Murray.
Just wanted to thank you for all the running news I get on this blog, rapidly becoming one of my favorites. I am a mere 59 year’s old and have been a runner for 37 years, but love to read of the many great runners before my time, as was Mel Batty.
Pat, thanks for this tribute to a truly “batty” Brit. Mel was a stunning fella and like many in the UK Athletics community, I was deeply saddened when I heard of his fall and subsequently his being taken off life-support; the fact that he then clung on for day after day when the Doctors initially gave him 24-48 hours, is testament to his strength and spirit; it’s tragic that he never regained consciousness and my heart goes out to Pat and the rest of his family.
I was lucky enough to have been a BROOKS athlete in that mid-1980s era of Zola Budd, Eammon Martin, Wendy Sly, etc – all of us signed up by Mel. One marvellous incident which is just one of dozens people can recount, was in Florida, February 1984.
Mel was driving Eammon, myself and one or two other folk around the state between road races and with the (absurd) speed limit of 55mph, Mel found himself speeding. Sure enough, from behind a bridge, with siren and lights going full tilt, flew a “Chips” type motorbike cop, complete with white helmet and leather regalia. He flagged us down and stopped behind us on the hard shoulder, then walked round to the driver’s window to talk to Mel. At that, Mel wound down his window, looked up at the copper through his milk-bottle bottom glasses, took the lollipop ( ! ) out of his mouth, and peering up at the serious-looking biker, spluttered in his inimitable style, “WHO LOVE YA BABY!!”
We were rolling around in the back and Mel was chuckling away too; but the cop had clearly either not seen Kojak and/or been given a sense of humour by-pass. Mel was duly booked and we were sent on our way, but we laughed for the rest of the journey.
Mel was a diamond, god bless him. I’m sure he’s still doing that invisible man impression somewhere upstairs and holding court to break up the monotony of paradise.
Tim H
So sad to hear of Mel’s passing. As a runner joining Thurrock Harriers in the 1970s I was made so welcome by Mel. I received great encouragement even though I was just an average club runner. We had so much fun and laughter at every race. His enthusiasm for running and for life was so infectious we all caught it. I particularly remember the times we went to Blandain in Belgium for their Cross De L’Amistice. Mel was so respected by the European athletes. There will be many runners now who will want to pas on their sympathies to Pat and family. We are all glad we were friends with such a lovely man who made the world a better place.
Mel was certainly UNIQUE – a rare character with spirit in abundance. He was a man I loved to meet at the London Marathon Expo…Meeting Mel always brightened my day……He may be one of the last of the Real Characters in Athletics…Frank Greally-Editor, Irish Runner editor@irishrunner.ie