The Rise And Fall Of Pole Vaulting; Hard-Core Interest Still High Despite Lowered Status

There were times last season when junior Marty Winters had to beg his coach to help him drag Atholton's pole vaulting mats out of storage, or when he labored to haul the mats back after a grueling practice, or when the blisters on his hands made it painful to pick up a telephone. So when he heard during the fall that his event was being downgraded to little more than an exhibition sport this season, he wasn't fazed.

"This is my event. It's what I can do and I wasn't going to stop," said Winters, who is an average vaulter by most standards and cleared 10 feet last year with little instruction. "I can say I am number three in the county in the pole vault. It's really fun and I just like it a lot."

When the National Federation of High School Associations voted in June to require schools to increase the size of landing mats after the deaths of two high school and one collegiate pole vaulter, the Executive Council of the Maryland Public Secondary Schools Athletic Association voted three months later to make the pole vault competition an individual event, meaning medals will still be awarded at regional and state track and field meets, but points will not be credited toward team scores.

Howard County followed suit, making the pole vault a nonscoring event at the county indoor track and field championships in February, requiring pole vaulters to train at the county's only site that meets the federation's new regulations -- Centennial High -- and prohibiting new vaulters from taking up the sport.

"I don't want them [new kids] to get into it and then have the expectation that it's going to continue because I don't know," County Coordinator of Athletics Don Disney said. "If I were to guess right now, I would think it's dying."

While the county was making its decision, Winters stayed interested in the sport and researched it on the Internet. He downloaded tutorials, talked to various coaches and found out what it takes to compete in college.

There are still others like him in the county, too, and they travel twice a week to Centennial to train with county pole vault coach P.J. Pfister after getting permission slips signed and accepting the fact that their sport doesn't count -- except to themselves.

"Having fun is completely better than placing high or whatever," River Hill senior Matt Van Osterom said. "It's great when you clear a height because you set your own goals and when you finally get that, that's awesome just to do that."

That independent mind-set is common among the sport's competitors, because most pole vaulters aren't the run-of-the-mill athletes. In Pfister's words, pole vaulters "have a few screws loose." After all, inverting your body to defy gravity and clear a bar the height of a regulation basketball hoop -- or higher -- isn't exactly a natural action.

Perhaps the one trait that's most important, however, is determination. That's why it's no surprise that the athletes in the county still vaulting -- the ones who begged their coaches to help them drag out mats and set up equipment and attended camps in the summer -- seem unfazed by the county's decision, the same decision that has chased off some of their less-dedicated peers.

"The kids that are out here are more serious," Pfister said. "It just shows dedication. These kids want to come out here. They like the pole vault, they are having fun with it and they want to keep doing it."

"I don't think you have to be crazy to do it," added Hammond senior Jason Strauss, who was third in the county at least year's outdoor track championships with an 11-foot vault. "You just have to be determined, and I guess most people wouldn't want to be coming out here and ripping up your hands. You can't be too scared to get up high. A little fear is good."

The decision to downgrade the pole vault and eventually phase it out in three years was made with safety and finances in mind, Disney said. He added that it would have cost approximately $40,000 to retrofit the pole vaulting pits in the county to meet the federation's new regulations and even more money to hire hard-to- find pole vaulting coaches to ensure safety at each school.

"I wouldn't say [phasing the event out] is exactly a goal, but it's more of a reality check, and the reality is, it's going to cost a lot of money to retrofit the pits for 100 kids," Disney said. "The other thing is that I don't have qualified coaches at all the schools so I can't ensure the safety of all the kids. Because of that reason, I am not in position to really be a cheerleader for the pole vault. I feel bad for those kids, but I have to look out for the larger numbers."

The effect of the decision was seen immediately this season. Coaches no longer pushed their athletes toward the event to earn points for their teams, and the only vaulters left were the hard- core competitors.

At last year's county outdoor track championships, 11 boys and seven girls competed for the county title in the pole vault. At a meet Dec. 16 at the Prince George's Sports & Learning Complex in Landover, there were just three boys and three girls working with Pfister.

The decision "will kill it. The pole vault will be a dead issue," Mount Hebron Coach Mark Reedy said. "They won't let any JV kids do it. In a couple years, it will be dead. It will be gone. How do I go and tell my pole vaulter, 'Sorry, it's your senior year and I know you worked really hard this summer, but we are not contesting your event'?

"The decision is so spineless I don't even know where to begin. . . . It's a typical, bureaucratic, knee-jerk reaction."

For the remaining athletes who still compete in the pole vault, it really doesn't matter that that their scores won't count, or that their event has been reduced in status.

For Strauss, it's all about one thing.

"Hang time," he said with a sly smile, referring to the moment of weightlessness a vaulter feels when he arches his back over the bar and begins to fall back to earth. "It feels different than anything else I have ever done before."