Picture this. An eight-year-old boy in a semi-detached house in a sports-mad, post-war housing scheme on the northern rim of Dundee, crouching in front of a grainy black-and-white TV set, fully engrossed in the men running round the track.
This was no ordinary track. Its six-lane circuit was part of an amphitheatre. A Roman amphitheatre, filled with spectators.
One of the stick-like figures had broken away and holding on to his slender advantage went on to become the first Olympic champion to make a lasting impact on the child.
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