Usain Bolt: The man who changed an entire sport

We all know the story. Gangly sprinter from humble beginnings bursts onto the scene in Beijing, demolishing three world records as athletics crowns a new king. Armed with the perfect concoction of attributes – speed, swagger and an unavoidably-excellent surname – Usain Bolt has ruled the sport ever since.

But as his tale enters its final chapter going into the World Athletics Championships in London, little is still known about the mentality behind his ruthless win streak. How has the sport’s jester held the mental edge for nine years in events that last a few fleeting seconds? Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan, Michael Phelps and Serena Williams are some of the great names who have dominated their sport with unerring discipline. Bolt, by contrast, is in his element clowning around on the startline.

"It is only when the starter says ‘on your marks’ that I focus in on the race," Bolt exclusively tells Eurosport, as he takes us inside the mind of a sporting great. At 21:45pm on Saturday August 5, the starter will utter those words to the Jamaican one final time. The 30-year-old will pause his theatrics, lock into race mode and – almost certainly – claim victory in the last race of his incredible career.

But how can he stay so calm when his legacy is one mistake from unravelling? What is unique about the mindset which has spurred him onto unimaginable heights? And how on earth can athletics prosper once the curtain falls on Bolt’s career?

When Bolt triumphantly drummed his chest and eased to a brisk jog in Beijing, not only was he making a mockery of the Olympics’ flagship event, he was also ripping up the sprint manual forever. Such was his impact that day, athletics has marched to his beat ever since. It was the first time in history that a 100m sprinter had shown such apathy for sprinting the full 100m… and yet he still obliterated the world record. The combined winning margins from Barcelona 1992 to Athens 2004 sat at 0.16 seconds; Bolt's clocking in 2008 put him 0.2 seconds clear of his closest rival. All on a nutritious diet of chicken nuggets. ‘Anything can happen’ was a phrase now redundant in men’s sprinting, all because of Bolt’s extraordinary 9.69s run-turned-victory-jog.

And boy did athletics need it. Fresh from the debacle in Athens, which saw proposed Olympic flame lighter Konstantinos Kenteris' missed doping test on the eve of the Opening Ceremony set the tone for a drug-ravaged Games, the sport needed rescuing – and it would be, by the most eccentric of characters.

For five years, Bolt's dominance was such that he could afford his pre-race theatrics, with only a solitary DQ in the 100m final at the World Championships in Daegu, 2011, blighting his clean sweep in major championships. Nobody could get near him – and it defied all logic. Sprinters were supposed to conform to a stereotype: muscular, explosive and not far north of six foot. The start was where the race was won and lost, so what hope did Bolt have of harnessing his surname and blasting from the blocks with his 6'5" frame acting as a giant parachute?

Nothing could stop him in those early years, as he set about redefining a sport. But as Bolt’s youth slipped away, so did his frightening advantage. By the time the 2015 World Championships arrived, dissenting voices had emerged – so too had a clear rival to the sport's golden boy: the reviled double drug cheat Justin Gatlin. For the first time in his career, Bolt was under fire from inside and outside his sport. A race which took on a moral dimension - almost becoming a parable of good versus evil - had everything riding on it, and Gatlin was in imperious form, unbeaten in 29 races.

Not that you could tell. With his legacy one defeat from crumbling, Bolt arrived for the 100m final with his typical swagger and looked completely relaxed as the athletes were introduced to the crowd. It wasn’t his raw pace that won the final, but his mental hold on his rivals as Gatlin - an Olympic gold medallist - forgot how to run in the final 15m. This was no fluke. This was the Bolt effect. Thinking you can beat him, and actually beating him, are two very different beasts. It is a tension that none of his rivals have ever been able to resolve, a constant thread running through his career.

No one had ever seen anything like it. In WWE, perhaps, but certainly not in athletics. When Bolt lined up for the 100m in Beijing in 2008 his rivals were taken aback, as were fans around the world. It was striking, almost shocking in a wonderful way. His fellow sprinters were focused, stern and unflinching while Bolt preened like a peacock; he effectively roared ‘Look! I've arrived! This is how we do things now!’.

No athlete had ever before celebrated victory prior to a race so convincingly; no one had dared to make the 100m a one-man party, only interrupted very fleetingly by the main event. The race itself was only a very small part of a wider celebration, not only of talent, but of personality.

Bolt had arrived, and his world-record run was sandwiched between selfies, lightning bolts and rampant, uninhibited posing. It was how a young athlete might play out their moment of triumph in front of a full-length mirror while dancing for joy. It played out like a dream for the young Jamaican. He was the only one not surprised by the swagger; he was the only one not surprised by the success. Athletics had been changed forever, all the space of 30 stunning, unforgettable minutes.

"I’ve never seen anybody compete with such a carefree attitude and a sense of enjoyment, a celebration of his talent," triple jump world-record holder Jonathan Edwards tells Eurosport. "For me that makes him stand out as much as his talent in itself and what he’s achieved."

“It is just showing my personality,” Bolt himself explains. “I did it a few times and the crowd liked it so I kept doing it. I love when a stadium has a lot of energy, it inspires me to perform better.”

It is for this reason that the swagger doesn't grind, the posing doesn't drag: because this is Bolt being completely himself, the unbridled, unchecked version of himself. It's the authenticity of his antics that makes them relatable for his millions of fans, because this is how he behaves around his friends and at home. The opposite of being contrived and designed for the cameras, he is simply showing the world the real him.

Professor Steve Peters, author of the Chimp Paradox and celebrated sports psychiatrist, tells Eurosport how Bolt has mastered the art of being completely relaxed before hitting the blocks by “managing to either learn how to focus at the appropriate moment or having little fear about failure or underperformance, or feeling totally prepared”. It is an almost perfect recipe for pre-race psychology, and we may never see it utilised to the same extent again.

The 100m start line, most commonly a place of crippling nerves and unbearable tension, has been turned into a dance floor and a catwalk rolled into one by the incomparable Bolt.

What does Bolt think about, when the heart is pounding and the tension is unbearable before the start of an Olympic 100m final? Where does the elite mind go in moments of such extreme stress, with adrenaline coursing through the veins? The answer is an unexpected one.

"I try to think about random things," Bolt reveals. "What I will have for dinner, what I need to do the next day." Not even random things related to the race, or the fact that he is on the start line with millions of fans around the world watching every twitch of his muscles. It seems incredible that the greatest sprinter of all-time is not even thinking about his upcoming race until that ‘on your marks’ moment. And just like that, he snaps into his state of focus, he jolts into a different persona altogether; it is only at that point that the smile fades, the posing halts and a ruthless, clinical winning machine is switched on.

During a 100m or 200m race, there is little time for thought. But what goes through the mind of the Jamaican as he is pounding the track is still a point of fascination. "There isn’t a lot of time to think about things but I generally have things I need to focus on, from the start to the drive phrase to the transition into top speed running," Bolt says.

As anyone who has ever watched him perform – and win – knows full well, the after-race party is often as big of a deal as the race itself, something he is very well aware of as he reveals his process.

"The most important thing is always to get the win, then I check the time to see how fast it was. After this it is about thanking the fans for their support. I usually do a victory lap which involves a lot of selfies and autographs."

Athletics was never this way before: the sport has changed, for the better. You may have thought Bolt was just having fun with his antics but it's the ultimate facade: there's a perfectly-timed steely focus behind that smile.

Belief is an athlete's best friend. Sprinters, in particular, carry belief like a badge. If you don't have belief, goes the assumption on the start line of a 100m race, there is no point in taking off the oversized headphones and stripping down to the lycra. When competing against Bolt, however, belief has never seemed as futile, as unconvincing, as imperceptible.

It is extremely difficult to get any athlete to talk about the challenge of facing Bolt, the intimidation factor so often hinted at but never conceded publicly. While you will find many athletes who accept that Bolt is the greatest, 2003 world champion and sprinting legend Kim Collins, who remarkably will be competing again in London at the age of 41, dismisses the subject out of hand, with an emphatic “No!”. Try telling Collins that facing Bolt is something to be feared.

"A competitor is a competitor; he is no different to my five-year-old son," he responds in animated fashion. "When I race my five-year-old I refuse to let him win and let him feel as though he’s better than me, so when you’re a competitor you compete against everybody to beat them, not to let them win. So when we lose, we didn’t just stand back and let them win."

Collins remains impressively defiant, with the perspective a world title and a wealth of experience lends him. “I’ve been around real intimidators: Carl Lewis, Linford Christie, Dennis Mitchell, Donovan Bailey and all those guys, they were totally different. So these guys now, they can’t move me.”

Intimidation? Perhaps not. But the swagger is something else.

“If his rivals choose to focus on him then they can expect a reaction,” Professor Peters explains. “For some it might result in a negative outcome. For 100m runners they must accept that there is no room for error.” And that is why racing Bolt comes down to a unique and wholly demoralising challenge: to accept that even the perfect race may not be enough. It will almost certainly not be enough.

Roger Black once described racing the great Michael Johnson as “racing for second place”. For sprinters, the agony of competing for second is compounded by the heartbreaking, ego-piercing truth that is almost inescapable on the start line: the idea that the remainder of the field effectively represent a sideshow, a parade of dejected also-rans. It may sound harsh to portray competing against Bolt in these terms, but when you consider the sacrifices, the dedication and the commitment required to compete as an elite athlete, this psychological truth is simply devastating, and effectively crippling.

For Bolt himself, of course, different rules apply. No pressure, no negativity; total assurance; total belief. “I don't really feel pressure,” Bolt declares with an ease that must be infuriating for his rivals. “Of course the World Championship is the biggest race of the year so it is important to get it right but I like to be relaxed as I run better when I am relaxed.”

The mentality of certain defeat: an unacceptable mindset for a sprinter, but almost inevitable when coming up against a man who simply knows he is going to win. If he wants to be relaxed he will be relaxed; if he wants to win he will win. Perhaps never before has an athlete appeared to be in such complete control. Whether or not his fellow competitors recognise or perceive an intimidation factor, the fact remains that Bolt has a hold over his rivals when it comes to the defining events of his era, one which goes beyond purely talent and speed.

"When I say I’ve beaten Bolt, the response is always the same: 'No way! You’re kidding!'. I have to show the videos, because nobody believes me…"

Much is made of Bolt’s perfect Olympic record: nine events; nine victories. It’s also a lie. It’s August 24, 2004. Athens is staging the Games of the XXVIII Olympiad, with heat four of the men’s 200m featuring a rising star. The camera is fixated on lane five as world junior champion Bolt, three days after his 18th birthday, gestures to someone in the crowd just moments before “on your marks” is uttered. Around him, his competitors puff out their cheeks in full-on intimidation mode.

Barely 60 seconds later, the Jamaican is out after finishing fifth. Little-known Polish athlete Marcin Jedrusinski, then 22, is acknowledging the crowd after taking victory. Jedrusinski would later bow out at the semi-final stage and retire with just a solitary European silver medal to show for his labours. But as another career drifts into the twilight zone, he can now brag about his unique claim to fame – he was the man who triumphed in Bolt’s sole Olympic failure.

"At that time, I didn’t think I had beaten someone big," Jedrusinski relives to Eurosport Poland. "Usain was a sprinter who had already run under 20 seconds, but he was not yet world class and to be honest, I was keeping an eye on the other sprinters. I beat Usain and got back to the daily routine. Only later did it turn out that the world had never had somebody like him. It turned out I had beaten the legend."

Jedrusinski finished his career with modest personal bests of 10.26s (100m) and 20.31s (200m), with his gangly 6ft 2in frame prompting calls that his future lied outside sprinting – opinions Bolt demolished when he finally burst onto the mainstream four years later in Beijing.

"When I saw him, it reminded me of how others treated me when I was a youngster," Jedrusinski adds. "People used to tell me, 'you’re too tall, stop wasting your time and focus on a different sport'. But I thought 'he’s taller than me and runs under 20 seconds. Why can’t I?'

"Usain looks like a genuine sprinter now, but in 2004 he was like a walking pole: tall and very thin. In my day, we had Shawn Crawford and Maurice Greene. They were not so tall, but were muscular. Then suddenly we got somebody like Usain who denied all of that.

However, despite the scalp of a future multiple world champion, Jedrusinski, now back in the army, insists that while it’s a wonderful tale, it’s not the highlight of his career. "Even after all these years, I don’t find beating Bolt my biggest success," he adds. "It was not the fastest run of my life and I didn’t win a medal in Athens. It’s simply a funny story. It was my best Olympics, but not because of beating Bolt. But I have downloaded the videos to show my kids in the future..."

Even the greatest need help. Bolt’s absence of invincibility was short-lived, with coach Glen Mills taking him under his wing at the end of 2004. Mills completely revamped his technique and instilled a firm work ethic – and the rest, as they say, is history…

"In athletics he is the greatest, and outside athletics he is up there with the legends of sport like Pele, Maradona and Muhamad Ali," Mo Farah tells Eurosport.

Boil down Usain Bolt's career to the simple process of running and it's initially tough to agree with the assertion. Fourteen minutes and 28.33 seconds - the time Farah would take to plod through an unusually pedestrian 5,000m race - is the total time Bolt has spent on track during individual events at Olympic and World Championship level, dating from Athens 2004 to Rio 2016. Even if you include his relay exploits at a generous 10 seconds per race, Bolt's total input from 62 global heats and finals stretches to just 16 minutes and eight seconds. One sixth of a football match; barely five rounds in the ring.

True, Bolt has run sporadically in Diamond League meets, national championships and even the Commonwealth Games, but his brand was built in those 16 minutes - few care what happened in sparsely-attended events in Doha and Kingston.

Unlike the giants of sport mentioned by Farah, though, every single second counted in Bolt's ascent to greatness. Pele's copybook was slightly stained by his inability to win a Golden Boot at the World Cup, as well as suffering injuries in 1962 and 1966; Diego Maradona was engulfed in drug and gun scandals and the 'Hand of God'; Muhammad Ali lost the 'Fight of the Century'. Those low-points were not legacy ending, but Bolt was never afforded the luxury of mini failures. Any mistake, any defeat, in a major final would have bitten at his aura - seven Olympic gold medals and a silver doesn't quite have the same ring to it. It was a full complement of nine Olympic golds before his 2008 relay title was retroactively stripped from him due to Nesta Carter's positive drugs test.

Sure, Bolt showed fallibility with his disqualification in Daegu. But even that false start, his only failure in a major final post-2008, helped fuel a myth that the only man who could stop him was himself. With potential gains outweighed tenfold by the damage of defeat, Bolt's consistency under the most intense pressure has rarely been witnessed in sport. Nor has it been more welcome.

Bolt was anointed as the saviour of athletics after the turmoil of Athens 2004, a tough gig for anyone, let alone a prankster who was still coming to grips with his generation-defining talent. But bear the responsibility he did, proving a willing distraction to the seemingly ceaseless and damning doping stories sweeping the sport.

Every tale with a hero also needs a villain. Or villains, as it transpired in athletics, as Bolt's chief rivals Gatlin, Tyson Gay and Asafa Powell became boo boys due to their drug-blotted pasts. It was Bolt's head-to-head with the former that garnered most publicity, with Gatlin only too willing to play the role of Public Enemy No.1. The American's unapologetic stance may have sparked outrage, but it also inadvertently built a platform for Bolt to assert himself as athletics' riposte to cheating. And the Jamaican did exactly that, time and time again.

In fact, a minor blemish on Bolt's record is that he didn't push the world records further. If only he had squeezed in bonus races in the aftermath of Berlin 2009, praying for the optimal +1.9m/s tailwind, he may have pushed the world record further into uncharted territory: 9.4 seconds for 100m and sub-19 seconds for 200m both felt attainable in his pomp.

Perhaps it's selfish to want more, but that's the feeling that will spread around the London Stadium when the batons are retired following the men's 4x100m relay, his final event. PT Barnum was credited with coining the phrase, 'always leave them wanting more', and with Bolt the feeling will never be stronger. Athletics is losing its greatest entertainer.

Forget the medals and world records. If Bolt's legacy is anything, it's that he transformed a sport from stony-faced stares to cheeky grins - bringing the fans closer than ever. He introduced the concept of the after party, proving that the show can go on long after the race has finished. He's also crushed the notion that champions have to hold an omnipresent focus and be serious 24-7. His startline smile may be infectious, but it's also one of his most brutal weapons. It's message? 'No one can stop me.'

From the torso-beating kid to the ruthless-but-aging guardian, Bolt's impact - both on and off the track - has been rivalled by few. Farah is surely right: the Jamaican belongs among sport's greatest figures. After all, who else can boast of a golden career forged from a little over 15 minutes of foundations? And as Bolt prepares to depart the stage for the final time, there's just one more question to answer...

Don't ask. Just don't ask. It's the question athletics doesn't want to answer, and yet after the curtain falls on the World Championships in London, it somehow must. When Bolt and his friend Farah leave the track, an unmistakeable void will have been left in their wake. Bolt as he goes into retirement and Farah as he focuses on marathons. No one is more acutely aware of athletes' responsibilities to interact and engage with the very fans who make them superstars than the latter, who recognises that the after-race shows are as important as the pure running feats before them.

"We grew up together in the sport so we have known each other for a long time," Farah tells Eurosport. "I have seen the way he interacts with the fans and spends a lot of time signing autographs, taking selfies etc. which is something that we as athletes have a responsibility to do.”

Bolt could not agree more about the value of personality and giving the fans what they want: winning, then performing. In surprisingly blunt terms, Bolt made it abundantly clear to his sprinting heirs what will be demanded of them, in addition to simply running fast.

"I've said to a few athletes that I know personally, 'You guys need to show your personality, not just performance," Bolt said. "Listen to me, I'm not trying to say you should try and do weird things, but people want to see personality and something different. Hopefully they'll trust me and try to change. I said to de Grasse last season, 'Listen to me, yes you're doing well, but you guys are too quiet. Look at the attention you got because we were having fun.' People were like, 'De Grasse is so cool'."

Triple jump world-record holder Jonathan Edwards tells Eurosport there is no debate about Bolt's greatness, both as an athlete and a superstar - and athletics will be left reeling by his departure from the sport.

"Certainly, he is the greatest ever – I don’t think anyone could dispute that," concludes Edwards. "In my view he is, and not just because of his performances but also for what he brings to the sport with his personality. You would have to put him along with the likes of [Cristiano] Ronaldo, [Lionel] Messi, Neymar - the most popular sportsmen in the world. Bolt, by the force of not only his performances but also his personality, is as big of a name as Ronaldo or Messi without any question. Probably the only other athlete who has been in his league was Carl Lewis, at a time when athletics was maybe vying with football as the number one sport. Athletics is very lucky to have him."

So where does this leave athletics, with its most decorated and celebrated star leaving the fray? Edwards adds: "You do wonder where athletics would be without him – he is a shining light. I don’t think there’s another Bolt out there, someone who could grab the world’s attention in the way that he did, not that I see at the moment - even though there are some very, very talented athletes. Competition is obviously great for sport, but there is something about seeing a dominant champion who is almost superhuman."

Bolt himself says he thrives on his status as the greatest athlete the world has ever seen. "It gives me confidence. I have worked hard for all that I have achieved and it is always great to get recognition for my achievements."

There may never be an athlete who achieves such dominance on the track and adoration off it, but maybe that is okay. With the dominant champion, who is almost superhuman, leaving the stage, perhaps it is time for true competition to return to the world's biggest races, for unpredictability to replace the wonder of celebrating a single man's greatness. The fear for athletics, though, is that sport is now more focused on individuals than ever before.

The criteria has never been greater as athletics shops for its next global superstar. Legendary performances, undisputed greatness and a uniquely unforgettable personality: is that really too much to ask for?