Thoughts on Pole Carry
Posted: Fri Dec 01, 2006 4:30 pm
One of the first things I do with a beginner is just toss them a pole and ask them to hold it like they would if they were going to vault. Even if they have never jumped, the way they place their hands on the pole tells me a lot about their initial conceptions - and a little about their potential to learn the sport at all. For instance, if they instinctively place their hands facing the right way and about the right distance apart, this tells me that they have some idea about what will and will not work when it comes to the basic task of using a pole to jump off the ground. If they put their hands on backwards about four feet apart and look apprehensively at me like a deer caught in the headlights, I know I have a tough road ahead.
Even when watching intermediate jumpers I can formulate a good guess as to their quality by watching closely how the pick up the pole. After I see them step on the runway and take their first three steps I am sure of it.
When I was competing against elite vaulters, I could still tell a lot about how dangerous a given competitor would be by watching the way they moved during warm-ups and how they handled their poles when preparing to jump. If they set the pole in its carry position with any hesitation or pause, I could be sure they were not on their game. If the pole was set firmly and smoothly without any pauses or slight adjustments of balance, I knew they were someone to watch out for.
This has nothing to do with the pole carry, but I could also tell a lot about an athlete by looking at their eyes. If they had that far-away and yet focused look, I could tell that they were rehearsing their jump, that it was constantly present in their minds as they stepped to the runway. I could see the outside world recede from their consciousness and that altered state of heightened concentration come over them. The truly great competitors were always in that mode when it was time to compete.
Earl Bell used to scare me to death. He would engage you in light banter and small-talk during warm-ups and in lulls in the competition, and yet he still had that look in his eyes, and you could just feel him sizing you up. Bubka ran me over once when we were both warming up on the long jump runway at an indoor meet. He was behind me, and I could hear his footsteps pounding on the wooden runway as he accelerated, and I just could not stay ahead of him. He ran me over when I was in front of him running as fast as I could to keep him off of my back. I rolled to a stop about twenty feet away and looked at him; he looked at me, and I could see his concentration break. He looked at me like he had never seen me, like I had somehow materialized in front of him out of thin air. He just said, “Stay out of my way.â€Â
Even when watching intermediate jumpers I can formulate a good guess as to their quality by watching closely how the pick up the pole. After I see them step on the runway and take their first three steps I am sure of it.
When I was competing against elite vaulters, I could still tell a lot about how dangerous a given competitor would be by watching the way they moved during warm-ups and how they handled their poles when preparing to jump. If they set the pole in its carry position with any hesitation or pause, I could be sure they were not on their game. If the pole was set firmly and smoothly without any pauses or slight adjustments of balance, I knew they were someone to watch out for.
This has nothing to do with the pole carry, but I could also tell a lot about an athlete by looking at their eyes. If they had that far-away and yet focused look, I could tell that they were rehearsing their jump, that it was constantly present in their minds as they stepped to the runway. I could see the outside world recede from their consciousness and that altered state of heightened concentration come over them. The truly great competitors were always in that mode when it was time to compete.
Earl Bell used to scare me to death. He would engage you in light banter and small-talk during warm-ups and in lulls in the competition, and yet he still had that look in his eyes, and you could just feel him sizing you up. Bubka ran me over once when we were both warming up on the long jump runway at an indoor meet. He was behind me, and I could hear his footsteps pounding on the wooden runway as he accelerated, and I just could not stay ahead of him. He ran me over when I was in front of him running as fast as I could to keep him off of my back. I rolled to a stop about twenty feet away and looked at him; he looked at me, and I could see his concentration break. He looked at me like he had never seen me, like I had somehow materialized in front of him out of thin air. He just said, “Stay out of my way.â€Â
