This edited article about swimming originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 705 published on 19 July 1975.

Matthew Webb was the first man to swim the English Channel by John Keay

Just 100 years ago next month a lugger and two rowing boats took a little under 22 hours to make the crossing of the English Channel from Dover to Calais.

That may sound a long time to take to cover a distance on the map of some 21 miles but, in fact, their zig-zag crossing was dictated by the movements of a former merchant seaman battling against the waves and tide to become the first to swim that famous stretch of water that separates England and the Continent.

Captain Matthew Webb, a native of Shropshire, had set his heart on making the historic crossing. Early in August, 1875, he had to give up after being in the water for seven hours but had drifted hopelessly off course.

Less than a fortnight later he tried again and succeeded in swimming almost 40 miles through three changes of tides to win a place in swimming history. Sadly, Webb the hero did not enjoy his glory for very long. Eight years later when attempting to swim the rapids above Niagara Falls the task beat him and he was drowned.

However Webb’s Channel crossing did much to popularise swimming as a sporting pastime. Today we take a running tap and a purified swimming pool for granted but it must be remembered that the first swimming pool was not built in Britain until 1828.

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This edited article on the Wanderers originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 905 published on 26 May 1979. Click on a picture to find out more about licensing images for commercial or personal/educational use.

The early years of the FA Challenge Cup competition were dominated by one team who, in seven years, won five Cup Finals. The team was known as the Wanderers, a side with no home ground, composed chiefly of Old Boys from Harrow School.

The playing fields at Harrow School

They won the first ever FA competition in 1872 and the following year, as holders of the Cup, they did not have to play until the final, when they were “challenged” by the winner of the open competition. This was Oxford University who, because their opponents, Queen’s Park, could not afford the fare from Scotland, had been awarded a bye at the semi-final stage.

Wanderers were allowed to choose their own venue for the match and if they had had a ground this would have been the only time in the Cup’s history that a final was played at home. Wanderers scored the first goal and Oxford then decided to play without a goalkeeper. But this did not help them and they lost the game 2-0.

Wanderers completed a hat-trick between 1876-1878, but in 1880-1881 they withdrew from the competition and never played a game of football again. They hold the remarkable record of winning every final in which they played.

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This edited article about  long distance running originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 704 published on 12 July 1975.

Pheidippides was the original long distance runner with the news of the Greek victory over the Persians at Marathon, by Alberto Salinas

The art of long distance running is not only a matter of simple endurance. It is also a question of the runner having an economical running style, and the ability to judge pace. Nurmi, the Finnish athlete, who always ran with effortless ease, exemplified this style. His feats, however, were part of a sporting event in which he had the crowds to spur him on. The solitary long distance runner, out to create some personal record, has no such aids to sustain him as he runs along his lonely route.

Loneliness, though, has never seemed to be a problem for the long distance runner, who, for centuries, has been happily travelling along deserted routes with only his thoughts for company. The best runners in the Middle Ages, were the ones who travelled alone, and were generally found among the couriers of the Turkish sultans, who often ran from Constantinople to Adrianople and back, a distance of about 220 miles (352 km), in two days and nights.

Today, the record for the greatest non-stop run belongs to Jared R. Beads, who at the age of 41, covered a distance of 121 miles, 440 yards (195,132 km) in 22 hours, 27 minutes. More spectacular though, in its way, was the feat of the Norwegian, Mensen Ehrnst, who, in 1936, ran from Istanbul to Calcutta and back in 59 days, averaging 92.4 miles (151,6 km) per day. Considering the endless miles of dusty, unmade roads he had to cover, mostly in sweltering heat, it was an incredible feat, which still stands as a monument to man’s endurance.

This edited article about the Tour de France originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 703 published on 5 July 1975.

Racing cyclist

First come the bands, the singers and accordionists. Following them is a seemingly endless convoy of cars and floats – lights flashing, horns blaring – advertising everything imaginable. Then come the trick motor-cyclists. Could it be that a circus is coming to town?

No: this is the carnival atmosphere which takes over in small towns and villages throughout the Continent every summer for the Tour de France cycle race.

It is quiet now, except for the loudspeaker commentary giving the race leaders’ positions as the crocodile of cyclists winds its way into the main streets or stadium where today’s stage is to finish. Hunched over their gleaming handlebars, bronzed legs working like pistons, they race for the finishing line.

In a flash, the race is over and a matter of seconds will probably separate the first and last of the leading bunch; but in a week’s time those valuable seconds could mean the difference of thousands of pounds. The final placing in the Tour of France is the racing cyclist’s bargaining power for next year’s contract with sponsors and race promoters.

This is what the Tour de France is all about – probably the toughest single sports event in the world and certainly the most commercialised. For 21 days each June and July, ending in Paris, the leading road cyclists pedal their way through six or seven European countries, defying all weathers and some of the toughest mountain peaks and passes in the Pyrenees.

After something like 2,500 miles (4,000 km.), and just a couple of rest days out of the saddle, the rider with the lowest aggregate time will don the coveted yellow jersey as overall leader and ride a lap of honour. He will probably then go home and sleep for day.

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This edited article about Sheila van Damm originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 702 published on 28 June 1975.

A motor rally in Monte Carlo with the Alps in the distance

The car went like a bomb. Sheila van Damm’s foot was pressed hard on the accelerator and her eyes were glued to the ribbon of road ahead.

She was testing a new production car over a measured kilometre in Belgium, having been asked to do this following her success as a rally driver.

Suddenly, she felt her crash helmet come loose. The canvas side had split and the wind was getting under her visor and lifting the helmet off her head. It was being held by the strap under her chin, which had slipped down her throat and was strangling her.

“I gritted my teeth,” she said. “And held my breath – what was left of it – and kept my foot down until the board marking the end of the timing area flashed past.”

She stopped and friends rushed up to her. Another helmet was banged on her head and off she went again to make another run over the measured kilometre.

Her average speed over the two complete runs was 120.135 mph and her top speed was 120.459 mph. Sheila had broken the Belgian national record for a car of the two to three litre class, and earned the title of fastest in Europe in a production sports car.

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This edited article about Wimbledon originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 702 published on 28 June 1975.

The Centre Court at Wimbledon

Over the years, the leading events on the sporting calendar have undergone many changes. Some have declined as attractions to the paying public while a few have had to enlist the aid of commercial sponsorship to stay in business. The one big exception is Wimbledon’s lawn tennis fortnight.

Twice in the last three years, Wimbledon’s appeal was put to the test when disputes with some of the professional groups, meant many of the leading players did not compete. But the turnstiles still clicked, fans still slept on the pavement waiting for the gates to open for finals day, and some 300,000 spectators watched the 12 days of action.

Wimbledon has a unique place in sport for both spectator and player, perhaps because it is so typically British, clinging to much of its past like the ivy on its walls. While most of the world’s major open championships are played on clay or hard courts. Wimbledon retains its grass; players are frowned upon if they consider adding a spot of colour to their regulation all-white dress.

Officially, the major titles are still the “gentlemen’s and ladies’ singles.” And at tea-time, strawberries and cream continue to be sold by the thousands. But while Wimbledon treasures its traditions and past, it has never been afraid to accept changes. Indeed, it helped to introduce open tennis in 1968 when more and more of the leading players were becoming professionals.

The world’s leading lawn tennis championship would never have started at all, if the founders of the club had not been prepared to accept some changes in the early days. The club was first formed by croquet enthusiasts in 1868 and named the All England Croquet Club.

To help funds, a section of the original Worple Road ground was set aside for lawn tennis and badminton in the mid-1870′s and it was not long before tennis became the stronger partner and even took over the leading role in the new title: All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club.

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This edited article about cricket originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 701 published on 21 June 1975.

The first cricket matches were played on the Sussex Downs by Peter Jackson

Almost 150 years ago, one of cricket’s most influential figures, Thomas Lord, was saying cricket was doomed. Like many others at the time, he was concerned about the “round-arm” revolution that was sweeping the game. What, one wonders, would he have said had he still been around to watch the actions and speed of today’s fast bowlers?

Appropriately, the Lord’s ground in London’s St. John’s Wood, is the venue for the first-ever World Cup cricket final, for it was here where Thomas Lord laid the original turf on which so much of the sport’s history has been made. Cricket was not born at Lord’s but it can certainly be said to have grown up here and been an inspiration to the world’s leading players.

Fortunately the Grace Gate, the Long Room and the “Father Time” weather vane have survived the envious eyes of the developers. Thomas Lord arrived in London from Yorkshire at a time when cricket’s popularity was spreading, in the early part of the 19th century. He prepared and rented his first ground in Dorset Square, but when the lease ran out and the rent went up, he moved to another plot where the Regent Canal was later to run.

The determined Lord moved again in 1814 to the present site, taking the original turf with him. When, some years later, he was tempted to sell the land as a building estate, a member of the Marylebone Cricket Club is said to have asked him what the ground was worth. “Five thousand pounds, sir” came the reply and immediately a cheque was signed for that amount. Since then, it has grown to become the headquarters of a game no one is quite sure who started.

It will always begin an argument when a claim that “cricket started here” is made. Young farm labourers in the Weald of Sussex and Kent are generally considered to have started the idea, using the “wicket” or gate from sheep pens as their target.

The earliest cricket prints generally show the scorers seated square with the two-stump wicket with only a stick to cut a “notch” for a run. Batsmen and wicket-keeper did not bother about any protection against underarm bowling and knee-length breeches and heavy wagers on the result were the most common things of cricket’s early days.

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This edited article about Le Mans originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 700 published on 14 June 1975.

The Mercedes crash at Le Mans in 1955 which Fangio managed to escape, by Graham Coton

Combine all the high-speed thrills of a motor-car race lasting for 24 hours with all the fun of the fairground and you have a first class public attraction.

That was the experience of the French motor-racing authorities who had the inspiration to initiate the Le Mans 24-hour race on a public roads course just outside the town in South West France in 1923. It attracts hundreds of thousands of people every year, and attendances of well over half-a-million have been recorded.

Yet, it can be the most boring and complicated race in the world to watch. Over fifty cars of all shapes and sizes may start on the 13.5 kilometre (about 9 mile) course, and it takes the fastest less than five minutes to complete one lap.

After only four or five laps, the slower cars are already being overtaken by the faster ones and long before the first of the twenty-four hours has gone by it has become impossible to sort out the racing order without reference to the complicated and huge electronic scoreboard above the pits.

The vast majority of the many thousands who spend a day and a night at the track only know what is going on from the excited commentaries over the public address system and their transistor radios.

But many of them never see the race anyway. For them, Le Mans is more the Mecca for an annual carnival than a sporting event.

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This edited article about the Four-minute Mile originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 698 published on 31 May 1975.

Roger Bannister

Twenty one years ago, a young Oxford University graduate named Roger Bannister ran the most famous race in athletics history and achieved what men had been trying to do for over 90 years – run a mile in under four minutes.

When Bannister, triumphant but exhausted, swept through the tape in 3 minutes 59.4 seconds, on 6th May, 1954, a milestone was passed.

Nowadays, the mile is run virtually only in the United States. It has long since disappeared from the British athletics championship list, and is seldom run anywhere else in the world except as a “novelty” event.

Even now it seems impossible to realise that the headline, “Mile of the Century”, appeared more often in newspapers and provoked more excitement and interest among sports page readers than does the current classic “Fight of the Century” whenever the world heavyweight boxing championship is at stake.

The story of the attack on the four-minute mile began only a few yards from where it ended, on a cricket ground near the running track on which Bannister was to perform his feat.

In the first athletics match ever held between Oxford and Cambridge Universities, on March 5, 1864, Charles Lawes, of Cambridge, won the mile race in 4 minutes 56 seconds. Two years later, Lawes also won the mile in the first amateur athletics championships held in England, this time in 4 minutes 39 seconds.

But the glamour of the mile really reached its peak as a public attraction in the 1930s, thanks mainly to competition between a New Zealander, a Briton and some Americans.

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This edited article about Pat Moss originally appeared in Look and Learn issue number 698 published on 31 May 1975.

Britain’s toughest motor rally by Graham Coton

Pat Moss swiftly drove her rally car towards the brow of a hill in Sweden. As she neared the top, she jammed her foot on the accelerator to get the most out of the car’s power, which gave her about 80 mph.

Until then, it had been Pat’s natural reaction to slacken off her speed on reaching a hill’s summit. But a little while previously, she had been told by a more experienced driver that she was losing time by doing this.

“Take the hills at full speed,” he had suggested. When Pat followed this advice, she did not know that just out of sight beyond the brow was a sharp corner.

In all innocence, Pat ploughed on. Because she was unable to turn in time, she and her car shot off the road and landed among uneven terrain scattered with large rocks. Although her car’s wheels were splayed out, Pat found that it was still inn running order and she continued with the rally.

Adventure like this is what Pat must have been seeking when she took up rally driving. She did it so successfully that she won numerous titles and trophies and rose to become European Ladies’ Champion.

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