Athletics vaults Commonwealth Games into spotlight

Swimming can feel sterile compared to this. It’s not the swimmers’ fault, of course, but their faces are hidden in a pool of water while they compete.

Gold medallist Nina Kennedy with Imogen Ayris of New Zealand and Sophie Cook of England Picture: Getty Images

The bright side to gloomy morning skies over Alexandra Stadium is the appropriateness of 10am fireworks. Off they go in flares of red, orange, pink, purple and yellow and then commences a day and night of Commonwealth Games’ sprinting, long jumping, hurdling, high-jumping, shot-putting and discuss-tossing, most of it happening simultaneously, highlighted by Australian Nina Kennedy’s triumph in the pole vault.

Swimming can feel sterile compared to this. It’s not the swimmers’ fault, of course, but their faces are hidden in a pool of water while they compete. We see no real-time emotion because they’re virtually invisible when they’re straining and striving. Watching track-and-field athletes like Kennedy, and practically every other sportsperson on Earth, we get close-up vision of every bead of sweat, every furrowed brow, every grimace, every wince, every exultation of joy, every tantrum, every look of panic or determination or celebration in the eye. It’s better.

Ready, set, go.

The morning session of the first day at the Birmingham track. A high-jumper falls flat on his face. Swaziland’s Ayanda Malaza pings his hammy at the 20m mark of his 100m heat and lays motionless on the track as if he’s been shot. He’s taken away in a wheelchair. Rohan Browning rocks up for his heat but there’s a lot of waiting around. Heptathlete high-jumpers have to clear out of the way. The announcement is, “In lane two, the national champion of Australia, Rohan Browning.”

Nina Kennedy needed only three successful jumps to win the gold medal in the pole vault Picture: Getty Images

He keeps a straight face. Looks tense. He’s knocking on a door that opens for the few. He’s run ten-and-a-bit seconds umpteen times but never gone into the nines without the assistance of a typhoon. Not many humans get there but he’s forever giving it a crack. His personal best is 10.01sec, close but no cigar, and he clocks 10.10sec to progress to the semi-finals. It’s his quickest run in a year and he says, “I’ve been wondering where that’s been.”

Oh, the diversity of body types. There’s lithe athletes, muscular athletes, big-boned athletes, pocket-rocket athletes, string bean athletes. It’s Little Athletics for adults. Oh, the humanity. Competitors from nations you’ve heard of and a few you haven’t. Australia’s Taneille Crase sails over the high jump while a discus flies like a frisbee behind her and a women’s 800m heat enters its second lap. England’s Keely Hodgkinson beats Australia’s Catriona Bisset like the soundtrack is Chariots of Fire rather than ELO. When there’s an outbreak of applause, you’re never sure who or which event it’s for. The grandstands at this boutique venue are packed and loud.

Australia’s Matthew Denny flicks his discus between his fingertips as if he’s about to deliver an over of leg spin. He hoiks it far enough to breeze through his qualifying round. That’s the end of the morning session and when we return, all eyes and binoculars will be on Kennedy.

Pole vault was born of necessity. Centuries ago in rural areas of the Netherlands, one particularly bright spark decided the best way to get across a maze of rivers and canals was to grab a tree trunk, take a run-up, hold on for dear life and vault over it. Fierljeppen, translating to “far leaping,” is still a Dutch sport, measuring the length of vaults instead of the height.

Here’s Kennedy. First thought? Trepidation. The height of the bar is terrifying. The thought of a crash landing from up there … no thanks. Bravo for the bravery. England’s Holly Bradshaw snaps a pole in the warm-up, lands heavily and withdraws. Canada’s defending champion Alysha Newman pulls up short and retires, too. The rest of the daredevils incrementally go up, up and away. Kennedy clears 4.35m by the proverbial mile while the rest sneak over by their toenails and fingernails.

Kennedy looks twice as fast down the runway. More bounce in her stride and spring in her takeoff. She clears 4.45m with enough time to boil a kettle, make a cup of tea and read a novella before coming back down. Enough time to grab some dinner at Perry Barr and probably sneak in dessert. Three others get the green tick at the same height: England’s Molly Caudery, New Zealanders Olivia McTaggert and Imogen Ayris.

Kennedy skips the 4.50m jumps. Get back to her when they set a real height. Then she skips 4.55m like a poker player sitting on a royal flush. She considers 4.60m to be worthy of her attention. If she lands it, she’s the sole gold medallist. If she misses her three attempts, she’ll share victory with Caudery. She aborts her first run-up. Strike one. She floats over the next. Too easy as the gloomy skies clear for a sunset of red, orange, pink, purple and yellow.