THE Boston Marathon celebrates its 128th edition on Monday making it the oldest on the planet.
As with most things in New England there are many Irish connections to the event, from its origins in 1897 right through to the present day.
Boston was a pensioner before Big City Marathons such as London, New York, and Berlin ever saw the light of day.
This year also marks the 50th anniversary of the last Irish victory in the event when a 22-year-old Limerick man surprised the running world to claim the laurels.
Now in the era of huge commercial running events, it is almost impossible to picture some relatively unknown athlete arriving at the finish line well clear of a world-class field, wearing an improvised vest that he had put together the previous evening.
That is what happened at the Boston Marathon on April 15, 1974 and that relative unknown was Neil (Niall) Cusack!
Cusack was born in Limerick on December 30, 1951 and attended St Munchin’s College where his running ability was first spotted.
This was in part attributed to his father Connie, who smoked 80 cigarettes a day and would often send his son to the local shop to buy a packet.
Neil would sprint there during the television adverts, trying to be back before the resumption of the programme he was watching.
His father’s habit would cost him his life at just 53, but his son’s dashes to the shop would help provide him with a ticket to fame, if not fortune.
Aided by astute coaching at St Munchin’s and Limerick Athletic Club, Neil took up the offer of an athletics scholarship to East Tennessee State University (ETSU) in the late summer of 1969 at just 17.
He was soon on a plane for the first time and destined for JFK Airport in New York, dressed in a new three-piece suit with a special pocket sown into the trousers to accommodate his dollars.
Fast forward five years and Cusack enters the Boston Marathon on a whim and has his way paid to the event by ETSU. Years later he would admit: “I still don’t know why I actually decided to run the race.”
Although ETSU had paid his way to Boston and he would get into bother for not wearing his university vest, he wanted to show everyone from where in the world he came. The night before the race he took the crest from one of his Irish vests and sewed it onto a mesh vest he had bought in Dunnes Stores. The fashion had been popularised by British runner Ron Hill who had won Boston in 1970.
Cusack had a clear plan, remain about a hundred metres off the lead group for the first six miles, then gradually move to the front, if possible.
He executed the plan to perfection and at the halfway point was a minute ahead of his nearest pursuer, pre-race favourite Tom Fleming, who had won the New York Marathon the previous year.
He attacked the notorious Heartbreak Hill at the 21-mile mark and flew over the top.
Despite Fleming’s best efforts, Cusack crossed the line 46 seconds ahead of him in 2:13:39.
Jerome Drayton of Canada, who would return to win the race three years later, took third in 2:15:40.
Finishing well down the field was an up and coming Bill Rodgers, who subsequently became synonymous with both Boston and New York Marathons.
On crossing the finish line, he was immediately crowned with an olive wreath and every newspaper in America rushed to interview him.
Members of the massive Irish diaspora in Boston thrust $10 and $20 bills into his bag. It was only later and well after the race, when he had looked at all the photos, that he realised there had been so many cars and cameras following him. And it also took a while before he realised just how big it was to win Boston.
“I was on a 2:09 pace coming off Heartbreak Hill and feeling no strain, running on my own,” said Cusack.
“I didn’t see another body from six miles to the finish. I started the race as an unknown and crossed the finish line into immediate international recognition. I didn’t realise how big this event was until I crossed the line. It was bedlam.”
It was an epoch when the image of Ireland to the rest of the world seemed dark. The sight of a handsome young Irish man toppling the greats of the marathon world proved a welcome, if brief, antidote to the grim events.
Boston Marathon was to experience the horror of its own bombing in 2013 when devices set off close to the finish killed three and injured hundreds.
Cusack and his wife Imelda will be in attendance on Monday as guests of the organisers. Let us hope that they and the grand old lady can celebrate her 127th birthday without incident.
