It was 1974 and colour television had just been introduced to New Zealand households.

So had the name of a new New Zealand sporting hero – that of an unlikely, wiry character in a black singlet called Dick Tayler.

And 50 years later, the image of Tayler lying prone at the finishline after blitzing the favourites, including the world record holder, in the 10,000 metres at the 10th Commonwealth Games in Christchurch still resonates.

Yesterday a relative unknown and today a lionheart.

It was one of those “lightbulb moments” – New Zealanders remember exactly what they were doing the day the unrealised potential of Richard John Tayler was finally realised.

“We were at QE11 Park that first day of competition and the atmosphere was absolutely electric,” says Tauranga’s Tom Roper.

As young man, he and nine fellow ex-Tauranga Boys’ College mates had squirrelled away a few pennies and gone to the Commonwealth Games.

 “We could have come home after day one, after that race. It was just so exciting. Brilliant. That could have been enough.”

Guest of honour

But it wasn’t enough. Because this weekend, seven of the 10 mates will have a fat lunch at Harbourside Restaurant where, half a century after the event, they’ll dissect that race yet again.

And Dick Tayler, the one-time spud farmer cum Commonwealth games hero will be sitting in, guest of honour.

“Makes sense. He’s the man. He’s the one we are celebrating, and it will be great to get his account,” says Bruce Simister. Like the story about Tayler going to the pub the night before his race. “And we didn’t have to twist his arm too much.”

Tayler will have relived each one of those 10,000 strides 10,000 times since that momentous day. And he’ll happily do it again for the guys.

Tayler says there were 35,000 people in the stadium January day, but he’s spoken to 135,000 who reckon they were there.

‘Tayler, Tayler, Tayler’ – the Tauranga lads, sideburns and statutory red hats, willing our man home in the 10,000 metres in 1974. From left: Adrian Brady, Bruce Simister, Gordon Yates, Wayne Ruegg, Don Hall, Ross Percy, Brian Hamill. Tom Roper was the photographer.

“I am just flattered people are still interested,” says a humble Tayler from his home in Timaru this week. “And I don’t suppose they would ask me about it if they weren’t interested.” We are Dick. Especially Tom, Bruce and their mates.

 “And it was just such an honour being a Kiwi that day, having a day in the sun that people still remember.” And they remember well.

 “I can still recall people chanting black, black, black during the race,” says Tom Roper. “But we suddenly figured it wasn’t for Dick Tayler’s black singlet. It was for English athlete David Black.”

Willing their man

So as Tayler worked his way through the field towards the front they started ‘Tayler, Tayler, Tayler’. “Every time he went past, up went the chant,” says Tom. They were willing their man to win and it worked.

Now aged 75, Tayler is a bit slower. “I go for a walk every day but I’m so slow my shadow won’t go with me anymore.”  But he wouldn’t mind jogging again – he just might try it one day soon.

Half a century later Tayler is a little fuller of figure, the signature mutton-chop sideburns and blond locks have been lost to time. But Tayler will oblige his hosts happily. And proudly.

“It’s a long way from Timaru to lunch in Tauranga – but Tauranga’s worth it.” 

The 10,000 metres took 27 minutes 46.4 seconds in 1974 – a new New Zealand record, which seemed almost irrelevant on the day.

Dick Tayler, in the black singlet, going for glory – working his way through the field in the 1974 Commonwealth Games’ 10,000 metres event.

Thanks!

But Sunday’s analysis will take two or three hours and involve a few obligatory bottles of wine and beer.  Talking of ‘lightbulb moment’, I remember exactly what I was doing the day the South Canterbury potato farmer won gold.

I was a young reporter covering the games for a Sydney radio station and was in a press box high in the stand watching as the race unfolded.

Everyone, including myself, started yelling Tayler home.

To the point where race commentator Barry Street was forced to momentarily turn off his microphone and yell at us to “shut the f#*k up” so he could hear himself think. Street then returned seamlessly to his race call.

Enjoy your lunch Dick Tayler and thanks for the wonderful memory.