Around the Bay
Billy Carroll, so far as is known,
never ran a footrace in his life. A stoutly-built man with a
smooth countenance, Billy was more suited to socializing with
his large circle of friends than engaging in vigorous physical
activity. There was about him a benevolent and clerical air
that suggested the bearing of a Sunday school teacher and his
sedentary appearance was enhanced by that of his wife, a woman
of large dimensions with a genial disposition like his own.
Yet if any man
might be looked upon as the father of Canadian road racing few
would be more deserving of the title than Billy Carroll, and
no establishment could be said to have played a more important
role in nurturing the sport than the little cigar store Billy
ran in Hamilton at the turn of the century.
The imposing
statue of an Indian, decked in feathers and brandishing a
tomahawk, guarded the entrance to the store at 104 North James
Street. Billy had long been prominent in Hamilton sporting
circles and his store was the best-loved hangout in the city
for those who shared his wide-ranging athletic interests.
Runners and trainers met there regularly to swap gossip and
advice although talk on any given day was apt to ramble
through the full catalog of local sport—baseball, football,
hockey, horses, whatever was current. That a tobacco store
should be so closely identified with sports, particularly a
sport so demanding of the lungs as running, was not thought
out of place at the turn of the century. A newspaper of the
time called attention to Billy's high quality stock and his
exemplary conduct as a businessman.
"Mr. Carroll
carries, and has a reputation for handling, all the best lines
of cigars, cigarettes, chewing tobacco and smoking tobacco.
The patrons of his store know what it is to be treated with
politeness and affability, and once Billy knows a man, that
man is forever his friend," the article said.
"The stock he
carries is his one attraction but it will not be gainsaid that
his personality and high reputation are much more valuable
assets to him in his business. In everything he is above
board, anxious to give a square deal and is a reputable
citizen. Hamilton people will be well pleased to learn that no
cigar store in the city does more business than Billy
Carroll's."
Billy's premises
were small but neatly kept, highlighted by a conventional
counter and shelves with glass doors through which could be
seen his array of fine products. What the newspaper neglected
to mention was the existence of a separate second room at the
back of the store. Tobacco, in fact, was not the one
attraction of Billy Carroll's cigar store. In truth, it was
not even the main one. It was in the back room, a more unkempt
place than the neat one fronting the street, that Billy
carried on his principal business activity. The room was one
of the poorest kept secrets in the city. Always blue with
smoke, it was littered with newspapers and ash trays, and an
old barber chair gathered dust to one side, a reminder of
earlier times when Billy augmented his income by cutting hair
and shaving whiskers.
It was to this
room that most of Billy's loyal clientele came to do business,
the amount of money changing hands within its drab confines
far exceeding what collected in the till from tobacco sales.
For Billy was a bookmaker, the best of his time and proud of
it. He was known far and wide. If anything, his standing as a
trustworthy bookie surpassed the esteem in which he was held
as a Hamilton merchant. A generous man, Billy supported
numerous charities and was a benefactor to many teams and
sports clubs, his philanthropy made possible by his thriving
backroom activities. Bettors fallen on hard times were often
taken aside by Billy and offered quiet advice on a wager that
might solve their problems. Occasionally, he simply excused
the debt and allowed the client to start afresh.
Bookmaking was not
then, as it is not now, a legal enterprise, although wagering
was common among those who attended sports contests. Most
turned a blind eye, however, and Billy took the view that he
was fulfilling a public service, rather like a social worker
who happened to be a bit ahead of his time. Few were inclined
to be critical. Bookmaker or not, Billy Carroll was an
upstanding citizen. One young man who used to wander in and
out of Billy's store, savoring the small talk and ambience,
was Fred Howe who long afterward wrote about it in a series of
articles on turn of the century life published by the Hamilton
Spectator in the 1960s.
''His store was
the gathering place for practically every horse player in
Hamilton, with wagers ranging from fifty-cent parlays to one
hundred dollars across the board,'' Howe recalled.
''It was most
interesting to observe these bangtail addicts in the back
room, scratching their wagers on available pads or pieces of
brown wrapping paper. The cash was deposited in a creaky
pull-out drawer, and the betting slips tossed into a large
brown bag under the counter. It has always been my conviction
that Billy Carroll kept no books, but paid off the bets the
next day to the few successful ones on their word alone.''
Howe frequented the store when Billy Sherring wanted to travel
to Athens where he would become a Canadian sports hero for
winning the marathon in the 1906 Olympics, the now
unrecognized games that fell between the regular Olympic years
of 1904 and 1908.
''Billy Sherring,
having difficulty raising funds to finance his trip to Athens,
received a tip from Eddie Whyte, trainer for the Hendrie
Stable on a horse named Cicely. He managed to raise forty
dollars and placed the bet with Billy Carroll.
''Cicely won at
odds of twelve to one. The bet was cheerfully paid by Mr.
Carroll and Sherring booked his passage to Greece through the
Heming travel agency the next day. It is now history that
Billy won this great marathon with the heat at ninety-three
degrees.''
Billy Carroll's
contribution to running began long before he handed four
hundred and eighty dollars in cash to a happy Billy Sherring
in 1906. It went back twelve years to 1894 and an idea that
was hatched in the smoky talk of his beloved cigar store. The
origin of his interest had more to do with walking than
running, however. Walking was a common pastime in this era
before the automobile and it became popular for a period to
stroll "around the bay'' on Sunday mornings, the bay in this
case being Hamilton Harbour and the stroll stretching nineteen
miles. A surprising number, when the weather was pleasant,
would strike out early, equipped with picnic baskets and
walkmg sticks, and make a day of it, pausing here and there to
rest and eat or call on neighbors along the route.
In most cases it
would not be possible to circle a bay the size of the harbour
at Hamilton, the open side being too wide for a bridge to
close the gap. Hamilton Harbour is unique in that a narrow
spit of land seals off the mouth, making it more like a lake
than a bay. Ships from Lake Ontario, then as now, came and
went via the Burlington Canal.
Circling the
perimeter on foot was thus a natural challenge and as more and
more citizens took it up arguments arose, particularly at
Billy Carroll's store, over who had completed the circuit
fastest. With several claiming the record the debate proceeded
to its logical conclusion. A footrace was arranged around the
bay. The details were settled amid much haggling and
discussion by Billy and his pals. Billy played a critical role
by agreeing to accept bets on the outcome. The idea caught the
fancy of the Hamilton Herald and John M. Harris of the
newspaper's management explored the possibility of acting as
official race sponsor. A deal was struck and the first race
was set for Christmas morning, 1894.
The decision was a
landmark in Canadian sport. Made three years before the first
runners set out from Ashland to Boston, it began an event that
continues today. Although not long enough to qualify as a
marathon, the race remains the oldest footrace of its kind in
North America.
The Herald seized
on the event to boost circulation, offering a handsome cup as
first prize (a) and using
its news pages to stir up interest. Little fanfare was
necessary, the race having its own appeal to Hamilton
citizens. Anticipation soon ran high.
Traffic in and out
of Billy Carroll's store intensified as Christmas neared, a
steady flow of betting slips being tossed into the bag under
the counter. Other bookies followed Billy's entrepreneurial
lead and the odds for various runners became widely quoted and
discussed. The best athletes for miles around trooped into the
Herald offices to sign up for the race, the newspaper
trumpeting each addition to the list. The precise layout for
the course was chosen and announced, beginning as expected at
the Herald offices on King Street, striking east through city
streets to the beach road across the harbour mouth, then
circling around the shoreline back to the starting point. It
measured 19 miles, 168 yards. (b)
Rules for Herald's Great Road Race
1. The race is
under the sanction of the A.A.U. of C. and all entrants must
be registered with either the A.A.U. of C. or some of the
amateur affiliated bodies. The committee reserves the right to
reject any entry.
2. The course is
from the HERALD office to lames Street, down James to Barton,
down Barton to the Jockey Club, where the runners turn north,
following the turnpike to Fitch's Hotel, then across the beach
to the canal, over the Radial swing badge to the Brandt house,
along the side of the Plains road, and past Hendrie's farm and
the Valley Inn; thence up the hill over the high level bridge,
past the cemetery, down York street to MacNab, up MacNab to
King, down King and finish at the Herald of rice.
3. Each runner is
allowed two attendants and must leave their names with the
referee at least one hour before the race.
4. Runners must
not run on the sidewalk until the corner of Sherman avenue has
been passed on Barton street, nor on York, MacNab or King
streets when finishing.
5. Runners must
run without their attendants from the corner of York and
Dundurn streets.
6. Each competitor
must wear two numbers, one on the back and one on the front of
his jersey. The numbers will be provided by the committee and
can be obtained on the Saturday night preceding the race.
7. All entries
must be made on the official entry form and no post entries
will be accepted. The entries will positively close on (the
deadline) and entries mailed on or before that date and
reaching the secretary will be accepted.
8. Each competitor
must undergo a medical examination previous to the start by
the medical officer or officers appointed by the committee.
9. A competitor
must retire from the race at once if ordered to do so by a
member of the medical staff or by the referee.
10. No competitor
either at the start or during the progress of the race may
take or receive any drug. The breach of this rule will operate
as an absolute disqualification.
11. If necessary
the station of each competitor at the start will be determined
by lot, and in the event of competitors being too numerous to
be started on a single line, they will be started on two or
more lines.
12. Any competitor
who drops out of the race and who subsequentIy obstructs
another competitor, or who seeks to finish the race without
having run the whole course, will render himself liable to
suspension by the registration committee.
13. Any competitor
whose attendant or attendants obstruct another competitor will
be disqualified.
14. Each
competitor must provide his own attendants and the required
refreshments.
(6)
Christmas, which
fell on Tuesday in 1894, dawned bright and clear Ideal weather
for the race. John M. Harris supervised preparations at the
Herald offices, checking in runners and attending to
last-minute details. A lively crowd gathered, many stopping to
take in the spectacle en route home from Christmas morning
mass. At nine o'clock, with all in rcadiness, Harris fired the
starting pistol and the field sped off, carriages, cyclists
and riders on horseback departing in unison. The favorites
among the runners were Bob Harris, thought to be a relative of
the starter, and W.R. Marshall, a heavy-set man whose
one-hundred-and-seventy-pound bulk belied his speed. The
progress of the race was relayed back to the Herald office and
announced in periodic bulletins to the crowd. The most eager
for news were those with money at stake.
Marshall proved
the most agile of those who ran the inaugural race. Leading
for much of the way over the rutted roads, he finished alone
in front, running down King Street to cheers and victory. His
time was recorded as two hours and fourteen minutes. Marshall
survived the test of stamina better than the accompanying
horses. Many of the animals returned exhausted, bathed in
sweat and foaming at the mouth.
The race was
hailed a great success, by none more so than the writers of
the Herald, and led to a lively interest in long distance
races. A ten-mile race from Dundas to Hamilton and back was
held the same day as the race around the bay in 1895, when the
event was set back from Christmas to Labor Day.
In 1896, the
Herald changed the date once again. this time to Thanksgiving,
a spot the event retained on the calendar for seventy-five
years. (c) Accounts of the
day describe in vivid detail the conditions that confronted
Canada's early road racers. After Alexander Donald, a young
Scotsman, won the 1897 race over rain-soaked, barely passable
roads, the Hamilton Spectator carried this account:
"The little fellow
plodded through the mud as though he liked it and will be
styled a mudlark' in future. Donald believes in the old maxim,
'if at first you don't succeed, try again.' He was entered in
the first race but took a pain in his back on Christmas
morning and did not start. Last year he gave Wood a good race
but pumped himself in trying to get to the Valley Inn first to
win a special prize. and was beaten breasting the hill. This
year he trained faithfully for the event, and having no bad
habits, he was able to get himself in perfect condition, and
when he toed the scratch he was determined to win. He deserves
his reward and he has decided to retire with his laurels.
''After the last
race Wood was the lion and poor lime Donald was nowhere. Now
Donald is on the crest of the wave of popularity and the young
Englishman is a 'has been.' The general public makes much of a
champion but has little use for a beaten man.
''The race
developed several surprises, the greatest of all being the
poor showing made by Wood who was a warm favorite in the
betting. He made a good race to the pumping house at the Beach
but after that he was not a factor. He made the great mistake
of setting a hot pace from the Jockey Club's road house, his
intention being to kill Donald, but the latter was in better
condition than Wood, and it was a case of survival of the
fittest. Another surprise was the phenomenal performance of
Charley Bates, an eighteen-year-old who finished second,
covering the course in a shade over two hours and twenty-two
minutes. C. Valendar finished third and upset the calculations
of (John) Lahey's backers, who played him across the board.
"Corktown was in
mourning last night, and the price of many a growler went on
the ice. Nobody seriously thought that any of the other
starters had a chance, and they finished where everybody.
except perhaps themselves, expected. Archibald Patterson took
so long to finish it was thought he had stopped for dinner
along the way.
"The Aldershot
wonder, (Ben) Charrington, who has stones broken on his chest
in museums, had his heart broken early in the race. Of the
starters very few of them know how to run properly and have no
business in such a race.
"Donald's victory
was exceedingly popular. except with the cinch bookmakers, who
virtually laid up against Wood, holding him at such a short
price that few people played him. If they had been more
liberal with their odds they would have had a strong play on
Wood, and could have rounded their book.
"As it was they
were hard hit on Donald's victory, one amateur penciler's
sheet showing $1,500 or $1,600 on the wrong side. Donald's
friends made a good coup, getting as good as two to one for
their money by being discreetly silent as to the young
runner's chances.'' Archibald Patterson, the object of the
Spectator's scorn for his slow pace, was a local architect who
took about four hours to complete the circuit. An oddity in a
time when road races were confined largely to the fleet of
foot, Patterson occasionally had company in an even more
eccentric local character named Richard (Dick) Pim. Fred Howe,
in his written reminiscences of the period, recalled Pim as a
man in his sixties agile beyond his years, with twinkling blue
eyes, apple red cheeks reddish-brown moustache and flowing
whiskers.
''Though small in
stature, he had the stamina of an ox, always finishing the
route clad in running shorts, with whiskers streaming, and
greeted by cheers of the sidewalk spectators. He took his task
seriously and had a childlike faith in everyone he
encountered. I always looked with disfavor on the pranksters'
tricks played on this trusting old gentleman,'' Howe wrote.
Fewer than ten
runners sometimes entered but the race around the bay
generated a wave of civic enthusiasm each Thanksgiving, scores
of volunteers pitching in to make the event a success. The
Herald never failed to thank contributors. The Canada
Steamship Co. was cited one year for getting the passenger
ship Mascassa off promptly to Toronto, ensuring that runners
would not be halted at the swing bridge over the Burlington
Canal.
The feverish
atmosphere of betting that surrounded the race had a dark
side, one that caused bitterness and periodic rumors of
impropriety involving certain runners or trainers. Suspicion
that the race was not always conducted honestly was apparent
in the attention devoted by Hamilton newspapers to race fraud
elsewhere in the wave of popularity that distance running
experienced across North America in the early years of the
century. One case that made headlines far and wide involved
the lawsuit of a businessman in Springfield, Illinois, against
a group of unscrupulous athletes and politicians. Seeking six
thousand dollars in damages, a fortune at the time, the suit
alleged that unsuspecting bettors had been bilked of two
thousand dollars to ten thousand dollars m egged athletic
competitions. More than one disgruntled bettor in Hamilton
wondered if he had not been swindled similarly in the race
around the bay.
Scandal finally
surfaced openly in 1908, not once but twice. By this time
Hamilton's two largest newspapers were each sponsoring a road
race, the Spectator trying to duplicate the success of the
Herald's race with one of its own, run each spring from
Brantford to Hamilton. Each race came under suspicion because
of the same runner. His name was never disclosed publicly
although he was widely assumed to have cheated in both races
by covering part of the distance in a horse and carriage. The
Canadian Amateur Athletic Union was asked to investigate.
"This is being
done as it is felt that crookedness of this kind should be
exposed to prevent repetition, and also in justice to the
various honest competitions in the race who may have been
deprived of honors which they earned but did not receive as a
result,'' the Spectator said.
''Fair play is
ever the feeling of those deeply interested in clean sport,
and while there is a disposition in certain quarters to drop
the charges made this week in connection with the two races in
question, there is no chance of the affair being overlooked.''
Nothing apparently
came of the investigation, however. The bad feeling remained,
the air going uncleared, and the reputations of both races
suffered as a result. The Herald race was dealt a further blow
m 1909 when fraud again was alleged. Once more an
investigation failed to establish improbity but the findings
were viewed with contempt, casting in sour light the victory
of Jimmy George, an Indian runner who was one of the swiftest
of his day. In reality, the bloom was fading from the sport of
road racing. The novelty had passed and public interest was
waning.
Yet a few
highlights remained before the annual bay race declined to a
small local event of comparatively little interest. One of the
most notable occurred in 1912 with the emergence of Jimmy
Duffy, an Irish-born immigrant who flew over the course in
1:46:15, a record that stood for close to half a century.
(d) An immensely popular
runner, Duffy went on two years later to win the Boston
Marathon, reviving the glory days of Caffery. But the renewed
interest was short-lived.
The Herald
continued to sponsor the bay race until 1926 and then the
newspaper abandoned the once great event, leaving its future
to anyone interested enough to take over sponsorship. No one
bothered, so completely had interest deteriorated. For more
than a decade the race was not run at all, until 1936 when it
was revived by the Army, Navy and Air Force Veterans of
Canada, Unit 153 of Hamilton. The ''Anavics'' have been
sponsors ever since, maintaining the race through its thinnest
years. Recently, the race has undergone a revival, reflecting
the mass passion of the 1970s and 1980s for running as a
recreational pastime. Often the field has topped five hundred
runners, including some of the fleetest in the country, women
as well as men.
The race was
slower than most to abandon the discriminatory taboo against
women. When the first woman joined men at the starting line in
1975 she was shunned. Her name was Tarsilla Komac of
Burlington and she ran without a number.
(7) In 1976, following Kathrine Switzer's Boston lead, she
obtained a race number by registering as "T. Komac" and ran
the race a second time. The organizers were not amused. It
took them three more years to recognize women officially and
even then they did so reluctantly. As late as 1983, when the
field was sprinkled with women, the starting line announcer
sent runners off with the remark, ''Gentlemen, have a good
race. "
Today the race is
known as the Billy Sherring Memonal Around the Bay Race in
honor of a storied past and a storied man. Sherring, who died
in 1964 at age eighty-seven, was never forgotten by the people
of Hamilton for his heroics at the Athens Olympics.
Financed by Billy
Carroll, Sherring sailed for Greece early in the spring of
1906, arriving two weeks ahead of time. He found temporary
work as a porter and used the time to get accustomed to the
food and climate. The marathon was run May 1 in blazing
mid-afternoon heat. Shemng's weight dropped from one hundred
and twelve pounds to ninety-eight pounds in the course of the
race, forcing him to slow to a walk m the final miles. But he
suffered no ill effects. Sixty thousand Greek spectators
saluted his arrival at the Olympic Stadium and he was paced
through the final lap by a uniformed member of Greek royalty.
Sherring won the race in 2:51:23. becoming a hero throughout
Greece. Women flocked after him and he was showered with
gifts, including a ribboned goat from the royal family. Back
in Hamilton, he was honored at a public reception and given a
purse of money. Invitations seeking his presence flowed in
from across the country.
As for Billy
Carroll, the benefactor who started it all, his fate was an
ignominious demise. The mores of the community shifted with
time and the police eventually raided his famous cigar store,
ransacking the place for evidence. Billy was hauled into
court, a shameful ordeal for so esteemed a citizen, and
convicted of bookmaking. As Fred Howe recalled decades later
in his memoirs of the period, "It broke his heart."
Footnote:
(a)
Prizes were also offered to
runners-up. In later years many were donated by businessmen,
the civic-minded Billy Carroll once offering a silver cup.
Special prizes also came into vogue for leaders at specified
points along the route. The pacesetter at the Jockey Club once
won a cane for his efforts, the leader at Fitch's Hotel an
umbrella. Trophies grew increasingly ornate and were displayed
in advance in the Herald window. In the heyday of the race all
runners finishing in less than three hours won silver medals.
(b)
Alterations to streets and
roadways over the years, coupled with minor route changes,
have shortened the course to just under 19 miles. The official
distance today is listed as 30 kilometres.
(c)
Since 1971, the Around the Bay
Race has been run the last Sunday of March, a convenient
warm-up for the Boston Marathon three weeks later.
(d)
Duffy's record stood until 1958 when it was lowered to 1:42:07
by a runner named Gordon Dickson. The modem record of 1:33:28
was set by Fergus Murray of Great Britain in 1967 when a
special field was assembled in honor of the Canadian
centennial. |
