full well that I was going to be up against the most formidable racing combination known in the cycle racing world, the famous Butler brothers whose superlative tactics and skill in team work really were perfect. They were noted for their ability to outgeneral and outsprint any combination of riders or tandem team in the racing game.
They worked with clock-like precision, and understood each other so perfectly that no signals or secret codes were necessary. If they had pre-arranged to pull off a certain tactic and their plans miscarried they were each fast enough sprinters to overcome the miscue, and invariably win out down the home stretch. I am frank to admit they were the fairest on the track where I was concerned.
I was confident that the other contestants, big Angus McLeod and D'Outreion, would be riding on their "own." In other words I figured that they would not be in any combination with the Butlers. I was in wonderfully fine form, however, and was never in doubt as to the outcome, my only bogey was being caught in a pocket. A most dramatic solemnity seemed to settle over that vast audience as we took up our positions at the starting line. The officials and trainers went about their respective duties in a reserved silence. The pistol was the first to speak out loud, however, which signified that within only a few moments more that terrible nervous suspense would surely be over. Then all would know who was really the fastest bicycle rider in the world.
In winning this long-sought title, the highest honor to be obtained in the cycling world, I had at last accomplished my life's greatest ambition. I felt amply repaid for my strenuous efforts in that great race when I was awarded the gold medal which was symbolic of the world's one-mile championship, to say nothing of prestige.
My success in this memorable event was won in precisely the same manner in which I figured it would be. It proved to be more a matter of tactics and track generalship than speed. I had my first test in competing under the French style of competition in which victory and victory only counted. The time occupied in the race being no factor, except that the timers always clocked the last 200 meters.
This type of race puts a premium on the rider's strategy, skill and power.
In the half-mile open race on the preceding day I was caught in a very bad pocket as we entered the last turn into the home stretch, causing me to finish second to Charlie McCarthy according to the decision of the officials. Despite the fact that a reporter at the finish line, who was quoted above, wrote that the grand stand rose en masse and yelled its disapproval of the unfair decision. They believed I won and so do I, even to this day. However, I learned my lesson in that race and I decided henceforth never to be caught in a pocket
