Decathlon Dave on His Own

This was not the way the script was supposed to turn out. Dave Johnson and Dan O'Brien, the rival U.S. decathlon stars who have been battling for three years to see who would capture the "world's greatest athlete" laurels in Barcelona, last week met on a rain-soaked track at Azusa Pacific University outside Los Angeles to film a hastily rewritten Reebok shoe ad. As they waited for the cameras to roll, their conversation remained on emotionally safe subjects like new golf clubs. There was no discussion of O'Brien's memorable miss in the pole vault at the U.S. Olympic trials a fortnight earlier, which had unexpectedly eliminated him from the Barcelona competition, or of Johnson's record-setting performance, which had dramatically turned him into the odds-on favorite for the gold.

For the past year, Johnson had been focusing on catching up to the favored O'Brien at the trials and beating him at the Olympics. "He trained like a maniac to beat Dan," says Johnson's coach, Terry Franson. Johnson's emotional response to O'Brien's inexplicable miss -- shock at first, and then a bear hug of support -- reflected Dave's conflicted feelings. On the one hand, O'Brien no longer stood between Johnson and the gold medal. On the other, the competition would somehow be diminished by his friendly rival's self- demolition.

Johnson's success came as a surprise to both the track community and the outside world. Some observers had openly wondered why Reebok, in its much publicized $25 million advertising campaign, had even paired O'Brien with Johnson. A knee injury and Johnson's withdrawal from the world championships last fall seemed to signal his decline. No matter. Reebok needed a foil for its sure thing, O'Brien.

But as a 1988 Olympic veteran, the 29-year-old Johnson had battle-tested nerves. O'Brien did not. "I've walked this road for a decade," explains Johnson. "I expect what comes along." Bruce Jenner, the 1976 decathlon gold medalist and the last of 10 Americans to win the event at the Olympics, concurs. "What makes Dave Johnson stand out is that he knows how to win," says Jenner. "That is crucial. You've got to be the best you can be on that given day -- and know it."

That Johnson would even be competing in Barcelona came as a surprise to certain law-enforcement types in Missoula, Mont., where he grew up. Johnson and his friends seemed in training merely to become hoodlums. Johnson half- jokingly explains that his early running from police officers and wrestling with other boys kept him in shape. "He's still got a wild side, a sharp edge," says Franson. "He's a committed risk taker, which is just what you need when a competition comes down to the crunch." Although Johnson made a local all-star baseball team as a pitcher, he continued to put much more energy into such nighttime activities as breaking into the warehouse of a local beer distributor.

When the mill where his father worked closed, forcing a family move to Oregon, Johnson chose to reinvent himself. He talked his way onto the football team at Crescent Valley High, and when track season rolled around, he tried a few events. Johnson was introduced to Evangelical Christianity by a fellow football player. "Once Dave got involved in athletics," his mother Caroline told a reporter, "I noticed a big change. He became a different person."