Prefontaine Page #3

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- Jesus, Bill.

- Hell of a pair of shoes.

You run like a prizefighter, rube.

You mad about somethin'?

Am I mad about something?

I only design 'em to last one race.

Just fell a lap short with that pair.

What was my time?

4:
03, give or take.

Pretty good, Pre,

without competition.

And without shoes.

You'll be running in the three-mile

for the team, rube.

- What did you say? - Your kick

is not fast enough for the mile.

I'll prove you wrong.

Doubtful, rube.

Highly doubtful.

Aw, Jesus, Bill.

He'll get over it.

The mile was everything

back then.

The glamour event

of track and field.

Every kid comin' along fool enough

to take up this crazy sport...

wanted to be the next Jim Ryun.

Forget Jim Ryun.

He's done.

I'm gonna be the first

Steve Prefontaine.

It must be nice to

wanna be yourself.

- Like I can't run with him? - Pre,

Becker's the conference mile champ.

Watch it, freshman. There's a

no-race policy during practice.

Fine.

Don't race me, then.

He's a cocky little mother.

I'd like to bottle it and force-feed

it to the rest of you guys.

Wendy Ray. KUGN, live.

Calling the last lap of this

lively twilight meet mile.

Pre is kicking hard

down the homestretch.

Here comes Becker.

It's a battle now between Becker

and the freshman phenom.

Oregon senior Thomas

Becker wins it...

outkicking Steve Prefontaine

down the stretch.

Don't even say it.

You are a damn

fine miler, rube.

I beat him before,

I'll beat him again.

Oh, I know you will.

This isn't about beating Becker.

Becker's never gonna be the best,

and you won't settle for anything less.

With your gas tank and your guts,

you could own the three-mile...

make it your goddamn plaything.

Nobody cares about

the three-mile.

Why don't you give 'em

a reason to care?

Hey, Felix, come here.

Back then, everyone had

either dope or beer.

Pre's drug was winning...

at everything.

# Out here in the field #

# I fought for my meals #

She's beautiful.

I love you! I love you!

# I don't need to fight #

# To prove I'm right #

# I don't need to be forgiven #

# Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

yeah, yeah, yeah #

You're the only person

I know who'd buy a gold MG.

What's wrong with a gold MG?

You've got to have a gold

medal to go with it.

Soon enough.

He was like a rocket breaking

free of the Earth's gravity.

- Get down here!

- Nothing could touch him.

- Goddamn it!

- You okay?

Pre is leading the N.C.A.A. final

on a foot with ten stitches in it.

Here comes Bjorkland,

the defending three-mile champion.

Looks like he smells blood,

and Dick Berkeley's going with him.

The freshman, Steve Prefontaine

regains the lead.

- Go! Go! Go!

- Come on!

Steve Prefontaine is the

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