Eulace Peacock: history's greatest also-ran In early 20th-century America, the backdrop against which African American sprinters competed was that of a deeply divided country. The "Jim Crow" laws enacted between 1876 and 1965 mandated the segregation of African Americans from the white population across public institutions, services and employment, predominantly in the southern states, but across the north too. Black sportspeople were banned from competing in the major leagues, and all blacks were prohibited from entering restaurants, bars, clubs, hotels and other businesses. It was within this highly charged atmosphere that Eulace Peacock was born on August 27 1914 in Dothan, Alabama. His background, upbringing and sporting trajectory were very similar to that of his rival Jesse Owens, who was also born in Alabama, only a year earlier than Peacock. Both sets of parents were sharecroppers who migrated north around the same time, as part of the Great Migration, when 1.5million African Americans left the segregated South in search of a better life. The Peacocks settled in Union, New Jersey. Eulace attended the local high school, where he excelled as an athlete. He was a gifted long jumper, footballer and pentathlete, for which he became six times national champion. At the age of 19 he set a New Jersey long jump record of 7.42 metres, which would stand for the next 40 years. Over in Chicago, Jesse Owens went one better, setting new world records in the sprints and the long jump. Despite the fact that he and Peacock had yet to meet, their rivalry had already begun. The two athletes had very contrasting sprinting styles. Owens was a "floater" - fleet-footed, with a very upright, almost regal posture and an elegant smoothness across the surface, as if he was running on feathers. Peacock, meanwhile, was what US track team coach Dean Cromwell called a "driver." He ran as if he was being propelled from behind by a hot blast. His technique relied on strength, power and the channelling of energy through the piston-like kinetics of his arms and shoulders. His style was the more modern of the two runners. He was more muscular than Owens, especially in the legs, built as sprinters are today - like an early prototype of Usain Bolt. But although Peacock was the more physical sprinter, Owens was the better stylist - arguably the best the sport has ever seen - and modern sprinting has lost something now that it is all about hard-charging muscle. These days, everyone runs the same. They are faster, but less beautiful. In competition, Peacock drew first blood on August 6 at a track meet in Oslo, Norway. Aged 19 he equalled the 100m world record of 10.3 seconds. This was faster than Owens had ever run the distance. For a time at least, Peacock was hailed as "the world's fastest human." But the focus didn't stay on him for long, because on May 25 1935, Owens hit world-beating form once again at the Big Ten Championships at Ann Arbor, Michigan. He broke three world records (for the 220-yard dash, the 220-yard hurdles and the long jump) and equalled another (the 100-yard dash), all in the space of an incredible 45 minutes. Peacock's hopes of being number one had taken a major blow. Owens was not just good, he was world class, and his collective performances were consistently outstanding. With Owens's confidence sky high, he went on to beat his rival in their next three track meetings that year. To all concerned, Owens was unbeatable. But then the unthinkable happened. On July 4 1935 at the University of Nebraska's Memorial Stadium in Lincoln, Peacock suddenly found his form again, beating the world record holder in both the long jump and the 100m, in a sensational time of 10.2 seconds. It equalled the world record, but was disallowed due to wind assistance. His double victory had gone radically against the form book. Arthur Daley, reporting in The New York Times, called it "one of the greatest double upsets in the history of track." Peacock then pressed home his advantage, beating Owens in their next three sprint encounters. By now the pair had become good friends as well as adversaries. Unlike history's notoriously acrimonious sporting rivalries - Alain Prost and Ayrton Senna in Formula One, Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier in boxing - the competitiveness between Owens and Peacock was fierce but friendly, and was characterised by a deep mutual respect. "They were so friendly that I don't think they cared who won," said fellow long jumper Herb Douglas. This mutual respect was well illustrated on March 28 1936 at a race in Cleveland, Ohio, when they lined up against each other in the 50-yard dash. As the race began, Peacock stumbled out of his starting blocks, and Owens cruised to victory. But when Owens realised what had befallen his friend, he insisted - encouraged by the crowd - that they re-run the race. This time Peacock won, but he refused to accept the gold medal. After Owens's series of defeats by Peacock, his prospects in the eyes of the experts began to slip. Former Olympic sprint champion Charles Paddock, Owens's childhood idol, came out unequivocally in favour of his rival. "I can only see Peacock as a certain performer at the games in Berlin," he told the Los Angeles Times. I can't help feeling that Owens is pretty much burned out. Paddock's comments stung Owens to the core. With his own confidence beginning to wane, he also started to believe all the talk about Peacock's superiority. "It's going to take a special man to beat Eulace Peacock," he told one paper. You see, I've already reached my peak. Peacock is just now reaching his. He's a real athlete. I don't know whether I can defeat him again. Peacock first pulled his right hamstring while competing in Milan with the United States track team in August 1935. The Olympic trials were months away, and so there was plenty of time for it to heal. But then disaster struck on April 24 1936, during a college championship event, the Penn Relays, in Philadelphia. As Peacock ran the anchor leg of the 4 x 100m relay, he tore his hamstring again. He later attempted to run on three more occasions, but each time he broke down. His Olympic dream was finally over. His elimination left the field clear for Owens to qualify. He booked his place in Berlin, winning both sprints and the long jump. Peacock's disappointment at missing the Games was brief. There was no bitterness, no alcoholism, no drugs and no John Coltrane or Billie Holiday-style spiral of depression-fuelled self-destruction. "What can you do?" he recalled. I couldn't shed any tears, it happened and that was it... Sure I was disappointed, but you can't spend your life thinking about what might have been. What did happen is the stuff of legend. Jesse Owens stormed home with four gold medals, winning both sprints, the long jump and the 4 x 100m relay. His success, and those of the other 18 black finalists, infuriated Hitler, made a mockery of the pseudoscience of Aryan racial supremacy and opened the way for sports to become - like rap music to a later generation - a means by which black people could escape poverty and discrimination. Ever since the Games, sportswriters have argued over the Peacock "What if?" What events would he have won if he had gone? In the build-up to the Olympics, Peacock maintained the better stats, beating his rival in five out of their 12 sprint contests. And Peacock's overall times were faster than Owens's. So, with all this in Peacock's favour, how many of Owens's four golds would he have claimed? This question is unanswerable, because although Peacock was undoubtedly the man in form, one thing we know for sure from the history of sport is that anything can happen on the day, and that the in-form candidate often doesn't win. After Berlin, Owens and Peacock led very different lives. Jesse Owens, as champion, was suddenly the most famous man in the world. But in attempting to cash in on his success he frequently humiliated himself - races against horses, greyhounds and trains. "But what was I supposed to do?" he lamented. I had four gold medals - but you can't eat gold medals. It wasn't until he began doing speaking engagements and commercial endorsements that he became financially secure. Meanwhile, as the world's sportswriters argued over the "What if?" question, Peacock embarked on a variety of vocations and business ventures, including stints working for the New York City Board of Education and the Internal Revenue Service. In 1942 he served in the US Coast Guard. In later years he opened an off licence and a car-rental business. He stayed connected with athletics by officiating at championship events and Olympic qualifying trials. In his final years, Peacock was felled by Alzheimer's disease. He died in New York on December 13 1996, aged 82. Athletics history has recorded him as a kind of "character actor" to Jesse Owens's star turn. But his achievements have been honoured by a number of athletics bodies, including the National Track and Field Hall of Fame. "Out of everything, this made him the happiest," said his daughter, Linda Freundlich. The story of Eulace Peacock's dramatic exit from the greatest athletics competition on Earth is enough to strike fear into any would-be 2012 Olympian. But there are other lessons here. For Peacock's tale isn't just about how talent and training can be trumped by sheer bad luck. It is also a story of true sportsmanship and friendship. Peacock would eventually go into business with the very man who became the legend that he could have been. And with the Owens and Peacock Company - a meat-packing operation founded in the Sixties - the two men found a way to continue their double billing. For a longer version of this article visit arogundade.com