Bob Beamon's Leap
The jump that went past the measuring device. At the 1968 Mexico City Olympics Bob Beamon long jumped 8.90 metres, beating the world record by 55 centimetres in a single leap that stood for 23 years.
Bob Beamon, 1968: Unknown author, CC0
One jump
Bob Beamon came to Mexico City in 1968 as a fast, raw talent from New York who had nearly fouled out of the qualifying round. On his very first attempt in the final, he sprinted down the runway, hit the board almost perfectly and flew so far that he landed close to the end of the sand pit.
The officials had a problem. The new optical device built to measure jumps could not reach that far, so they had to find a steel tape measure and do it by hand. When the result appeared, 8.90 metres, Beamon did not understand it at first, because he thought in feet. When a teammate told him it was over 29 feet, he fell to his knees in shock.
Beamon grew up in Queens, New York, and was raised largely by his grandmother after his mother died when he was a baby. Sport gave him direction at school, and he earned a place at the University of Texas at El Paso.
How big was it?
Before that afternoon the world record was 8.35 metres, shared by Ralph Boston of the United States and Igor Ter-Ovanesyan. Long jump records usually move by a centimetre or two. Beamon moved it by 55 centimetres, and he became the first man past both 28 and 29 feet in the same jump.
Mexico City sits about 2,240 metres above sea level, and the thin air helped sprinters and jumpers. The tailwind was measured at exactly 2.0 metres per second, the highest that is legal for a record. Even with those gifts, no one else in the final came close.
23 years at the top
Beamon never jumped near that distance again, which only added to the legend. His record lasted until 30 August 1991, when Mike Powell jumped 8.95 metres at the World Championships in Tokyo in an epic duel with Carl Lewis. Powell's mark is still the world record, but Beamon's 8.90 remains the Olympic record more than half a century later.
People still use the word Beamonesque for a performance so far beyond the rest that it seems to come from the future.
Why it matters
Beamon's jump reminds every athlete that one perfect moment is possible. Preparation, speed and nerve can line up just once, and when they do, history changes in six seconds.
In slow motion the jump still looks unreal: a long, high flight, legs pedalling in the air and feet landing almost at the far end of the pit, a picture of everything coming together at once.
- Bob Beamon, 1968: Unknown author, CC0
- Beamon at the 50th anniversary: ProtoplasmaKid, CC BY-SA 4.0
Text written by Shining Champion.
