Heart of a Champion by Patrick Lindsay

academy and then tested to see if they were made of the right stuff. To Greg it was an alien concept—essentially he felt that sport should be something that came out of sheer enjoyment.
    In the race, Greg was again the pacesetter, but he came off second best in a stride-for-stride sprint to the finish with Rob Barel, the European champion. The next day the Aussie team travelled back to France—another 9-hour trip—through the magnificent Alps to Avignon in the south for the World Triathlon Championships.
    Again, Greg, Brad and Croftie had to share a tiny room—three bikes, three sets of gear and three very sweaty Australians in one double bed. Then they scrounged a stretcher and spent two weeks taking turns to sleep on it in the 40°C (104°F) heat. There was no fan, no wind and no air conditioning. ‘They were horrific conditions but it was hilarious. Although we had the best time with each other, we had a bad race.’
    On the strength of his earlier race wins, Greg had lined up for the World Triathlon Championships as one of the favourites. He was confident, perhaps even a little cocky. But early in the swim he was belted by a flailing arm, lost his goggles and was forced under by the weight of the pack. By the time he resurfaced, he was waterlogged, minus his goggles and battling to maintain contact. Over the shorter Olympic road distance he was unable to make any real impact and he finished a disappointing 45th, well behind the winners Mark Allen, Rick Wells and Glenn Cook. (Of the Aussies, Miles Stewart’s performance was the best—he came in fourth.)
    From Avignon, the team headed to Paris, just in time to briefly join in the Centenary celebrations for the Eiffel Tower. ‘We arrived there at 6 o’clock at night and we had to leave at the crack of dawn the next day. But we didn’t want to miss a treat, so we went to the Eiffel Tower, and walked around town. I don’t think we slept. We went straight to the airport and on to Vancouver, except for Croftie, who went back home because he’d run out of money.’
    In Vancouver, after a swimming session, the group was riding back to their various billets when Louise Bonham was hit by a car driven by a local man. Her shoulder and ankle were broken, and she was badly cut and bruised. The others saw Louise safely off to hospital and then they had to race. Again Greg raced brilliantly, coming third in another blanket sprint finish with Mike Pigg and Kenny Glah.
    Louise eventually made the long trip home, where she spent weeks in hospital. She didn’t race for a year. ‘Poor Louise was off the scene for a long time. There was a big court case. The car driver passed away not so long after that. He was old. But it wrecked her career. It was very, very sad. I always thought Louise had the potential to win the Hawaiian Ironman.’ But she did fight back, winning two Australian Ironman titles and finishing ninth at Hawaii in 1991.
    Next the Aussies flew on to Chicago where the race director Tom Cooney, who would later become a great friend of Greg’s, squired them around. ‘Tom had such a good time that he drove us up to Toronto for the next race—a 9-hour trip. There we met some people who’ve become lifelong friends. I raced really well again. Mike Pigg, Rick Welsh and I had a sprint to the line and I came third again. But it was a big, big stepping stone for me.’
    Greg came home on a huge high. He’d had an amazing run on the tour and ended up as the clear winner in the prize pool. ‘I had earned more money than I would have earned in six months on my job—$US5000. It was great, I was dishing out money, writing IOUs. I think people still owe me money. We had a great time. I was 24 years old, away doing triathlon, getting paid and drinking beer. How good was that?’
    Back at Plaster Linings, Arthur Blizzard was just as delighted with Greg’s success. Arthur was a passionate