“Usha, Usha, Usha.” The sound of Pilavulakandi Thekkeparambil Usha’s name reverberated across the stadium in Seoul each time she was on th...
“Usha, Usha, Usha.”
The sound of Pilavulakandi Thekkeparambil Usha’s name reverberated across the stadium in Seoul each time she was on the track. The 70,000 spectators present, including the Koreans, pronounced the name with almost child-like awe.
PT Usha, on the other hand, stuck to her routine. The 22-year-old’s green silk shorts and saffron and white vest emblazoned with the number ‘67’ were everyone’s focus but she didn’t look like she could be bothered.
She would settle down to take her mark, follow it up by wiping her hands on the shorts, adjust the bangles on her wrists and the necklace around her neck, then touch her forehead in prayer before resting her weight on her fingertips, with a gentle rocking motion as she waited for the starter’s pistol to go off.
Also read: PT Usha’s tryst with the Asian Championships, the event that shaped her legacy
Once the race began, it was clear that Usha was in another class. She would get out of the blocks well and always seemed to have the right strategy in place. Perhaps more importantly, her confidence was sky-high.
After her showing at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics where she had written a new chapter in the country’s athletics history by making the final...
