The Front Runner

other.
    "There is no other man who is testing me as you test me," said Armas. "You understand." Billy nodded. "And I think that you would feel the same way. Or no?"
    "That's right, I would," said Billy.
    Armas smiled. "You and I, we are not running for medals. We are not running for glory. We could run the same race some other place. Or no?"
    "I don't follow you," said Billy.
    Armas kept smiling his crinkled, simple, village smile. "These gentlemen make politics. But you and I make better politics. I think that after they consider, they are letting you run."
    "What do you want to do?"
    "It is only if you say yes."
    Billy nodded.
    "So ... I am walking in there with you. I am saying that I also am ineligible. My government is giving me stipends. Therefore neither of us are running. Then I am saying that you and I are going to some other place, Helsinki, New York, wherever we decide. There we are having our own world championship in these events. It can be in the week after the Games, when we are still . . . how you say . . . peaking. I think we are having no problem while finding a promoter who will hold such a meet. It can be invitational, we are bringing together all the best men. You understand? I am sorry my English is being so bad..."
    We all sat there flabbergasted.
    Billy laughed his slow, chortling laugh, as he always did when some new idea beguiled him. "Sure," he said. "But, my God, you might be giving up a lot."
    Armas shook his head. "I am generous, a little, but not so generous. I think I give up nothing. These men are not letting us have our little championship. If they do—" he spread his hands in one of those piquant European gestures "—they lose very much face. Or no?"
    Now we were all beguiled. John grinned. Vince leaned back and laughed out loud. Aldo cackled and slapped his knee.
    "It's a gamble," I said.
    "I like the gamble," said Armas. "In Montreal, Billy and I are gambling also."
    Billy's eyes sparkled wickedly. "All right. We'll do it just as you say."
    "In the meeting already is my IOC delegate," said Armas. "The Olympic committee in my country is maybe not supporting me. But they are respecting me in this thing. They cannot force me to run. So . . . let us go in then."
    We watched Billy, Aldo and Armas walk off toward the meeting room.
    John was rocking with laughter and shaking his head.
    "Armas should have been a lawyer," he said, "instead of a fireman."
    Later Billy and Aldo would describe the meeting to me.
    All but one of the eligibility committee was present. They looked a little taken aback when Sepponan walked in with Billy. None of them, of course, knew why he was there, but they were obviously uneasy. Sepponan sat down by his IOC delegate and didn't say a word.
    Billy stood, with his hands casually in his pockets. He was wearing the brown plaid suit that he'd worn on the Dick Cavett Show. He had himself very much under control. He was pleasant and precise, and his voice was soft.
    "I think I can set your minds at rest about my amateur status," he said.
    He paused a moment, looking around at all of them. "I was a gay before I was a runner. Do all of you who aren't American understand the word gay? It's our word for homosexual."
    A few heads nodded, a few grunts of assent.
    "Okay," said Billy. "I was invited to help develop a gay studies course at Prescott because I was gay, and because I majored in political science. I was not invited to do it because I was a runner. We had two other gay athletes at Prescott. One of them, Vince Matti, was also hired to help with the course. He was a sociology major. The third gay, Jacques LaFont,
    was not invited to help with the course. He was a biology major specializing in birds. So ..."
    He paused to let the point sink in.
    "The gay studies program is not an athletic program. Athletes have come to our counseling service, but so have many nonathletes. I am not connected with the college athletic program in any official way. Sure the college pays me for my teaching work. They pay all their professors. But they're paying me to teach, not to run. I'm sure you gentlemen wouldn't expect me to teach for free, after my father plowed about $40,000 into my education so that I could someday earn my own living."
    The committeemen sat stone silent, Aldo said later, looking fixedly at Billy as he stood there making his sexual avowal, talking about being gay as casually as if he were talking about the weather.
    "My salary as an untenured professor at