Both sports—track and baseball—have long been tethered to their pasts, defined by records, nostalgia, and a reverence for tradition. Yet, each has also faced a rupture:
- For baseball, it was the Steroid Era (circa 1994–2004) that strained its heroic mythos.
- For track and field, the disruption arrived via technological innovation, ushered in by the Super Shoes revolution post-2016.
These shifts left both sports at odds with their histories—unsure how to reconcile yesterday’s legends with today’s realities.
But last night, at the 95th MLB All-Star Game in Atlanta, baseball offered a glimpse of something fresh. Clayton Kershaw, mic’d up while pitching live, let fans hear the game from inside the storm and atop the rubber:
“I’m gonna try to throw some cheese right now. Hold on.” (grunt!)
It was electric—not just for what it revealed, but for how it collapsed distance. It gave the audience the thrill of proximity: thought, instinct, action—all happening in real time.
Track and field has spent decades chasing its own revitalization, often trapped in a kind of suspended legacy. Could this intimacy—between fan and performer—be at least one answer?
We probably can’t mic up 100m dashers (as fun as that sounds). But imagine microphones on:
- Shot putters, javelin throwers, long jumpers
- Pole vaulters, steeplechasers, even mid-distance runners
Let them narrate not just what they’re doing, but what they’re feeling, seeing, adjusting. That internal monologue is the sport’s missing soundtrack.
I’ve tested this idea myself. During my Runner’s Digest radio days, I used to jog alongside athletes with a handheld recorder—hours of tape with Bill Rodgers circling Jamaica Pond in every kind of weather. Those recordings weren’t interviews. They were experiences.
Why not create a mic’d-up exhibition event within a meet? Strip away the medal and record chase, focus on connection. Or, mic up the rabbit. We saw elements of this last year at Alexis Ohanian’s Athlos Women Run New York at Icahn Stadium. It wasn’t just racing—it was storytelling.
Track and field shines best up close—where you can feel the torque, hear the breath, sense the calculation before the leap or surge. The beauty disappears when a camera sits 100m away, and the silence of distance sets in.
We already have rail-mounted cameras, gator-mounted lenses, and seamless live tracking. What we need now is sound. The technology exists. The components are ready. Just imagine what those mic’d moments could offer:
The future of track isn’t just faster splits or lighter spikes. It’s a voice. Emotion. Presence. That’s how you bring the public back—not just to watch, but to its feet.
“OK, I’m gonna try throw some more cheese!”
END
tonireavis.com 
I think testing needs to be done before major races with enough time to obtain the results, such as the WMMs. Secondly, race organizers should place ALL prize money in escrow until results of follow-up testing are available. The first one removes offending athletes from competing and the second denies awards if they manage to slip through.
And mic up the coaches, too. We see all kinds of “interesting” gyrations from the jumpers and throwers and their coaches – I’d love to hear what they’re saying!
Rico
Toni,
Great piece and it made me recall an actual event that happened decades ago at the Orange Bowl Marathon.
I was doing a live radio broadcast from the lead vehicle covering the front of the pack. As the race progressed, only one athlete was leading, Bill Rodgers. He had separated from the other athletes by such a margin, I asked the anchors back in the studio if I could jump out and run next to Bill and interview him since our coverage was relatively uninteresting (How long can you talk about one athlete, the weather and the chances of someone catching him). They thought I was crazy but said, “Sure!”
I honestly don’t recall how we managed the wire or the cable from the vehicle, but it worked. The pace was close to 5 minutes a mile and I had on shorts and running shoes (obviously this was part of ancient history because doing a five-minute mile only occurs in my dreams now).
I was friends with Bill so when I came up next to him, he looked at me like I was from another planet. I asked the usual, typical questions, “How are you feeling right now? – Any special strategy at this point (I think it was around 18 miles)? – Are you concerned about anyone behind you?”
He laughed and then actually answered the questions when I pointed the mic at him!
After a couple of minutes, I left him and jumped back into the vehicle and that was that.
As I remember, it was a one-off, but super fun!
Obviously, this has been done many times since at other marathons with recreation athletes or celebrity runners, but back in the 80’s this was very rare, I think!
A long, unimportant story, but lends credence to your posit. I also watched on Tuesday night and looked over at Renee and said, “That’s so cool!” With your megaphone, who knows what might happen next!