Tonie Campbell Thinks of Himself as the 'Rodney Dangerfield of Hurdlers' : A Shadow in Track Shoes

By TODD JONES

Aug. 5, 1988 12 AM PT

Times Staff Writer

With deep pride, Tonie Campbell leads you up the steps of his Ontario home. “I got something I’d like to show you,” he says.

Campbell stops at a nestled room and opens the door. When he does, he opens the door to himself.

Plastered on the back wall are more than 300 racing tags from track meets all over the world.

The numerical montage is loud. It reveals many accomplishments and miles traveled.

The rest of the small room is quiet, nearly empty.

It’s a clash that’s an odd reflection of Tonie Campbell the hurdler. His achievements speak for themselves. Yet, there’s a sense that not many people have heard them.

Campbell has always been somewhat secluded from the limelight of track and field. His sprint hurdle career has been spent in the shadows cast by bigger names in the lanes around him. Notoriety has been his toughest hurdle.

“I’m not in the shadow, I am the shadow,” Campbell said. “It’s very frustrating. I’ve done so much and I would hope somebody would recognize it. It’s not like my records or accomplishments have been minor. They’ve been major accomplishments.”

Major such as qualifying for his third Olympic team, the only 110-meter high hurdler besides Willie Davenport to do so. Campbell accomplished that July 23 with a second-place finish behind Roger Kingdom at the U.S. Olympic trials in Indianapolis.

The trials continued the resurgence of Campbell’s career. In 1987, he won the Mobil Grand Prix title and also captured the World Indoor Championships in the 60-meter high hurdles.

“Last year, he was undoubtedly the best hurdler in the world,” said Campbell’s coach, Ken Matsuda.

World rankings say Greg Foster was the best, but Campbell remains ranked a close second. It’s a familiar position for the lanky Carson native.

Campbell has been ranked in the top seven hurdlers in the world since he was a 19-year-old sophomore at USC. He’s now 28. Still, the names most often associated with the high hurdles are Foster, 1984 Olympic champion Roger Kingdom and world record holder Renaldo Nehemiah.

Then there’s that other guy, Tonie Campbell.

“I think because I get so little respect--the Rodney Dangerfield of hurdles--that’s what keeps me going,” Campbell said.

“It’s like I still have a long way to go until people accept me for what I am and for what I’ve done. I’m going to keep trying until finally somebody says, ‘Hey, you were a great one.’ ”

For many athletes, the quest for recognizable greatness ends at the Olympic Games. Campbell knows all about the Games. It’s the stardom part that he’s a bit vague on.

In 1980, Campbell made the Olympic team but the U.S. boycott kept him out of the starting blocks at Moscow.

“I was very upset in 1980. I didn’t know if I was ever going to make it again, because most people make only one team.”

Campbell made it again four years later when Los Angeles hosted the Olympics. But it was a disappointment for him. Impacted wisdom teeth bothered him and he finished fifth.

“I feel I owe the public,” Campbell said.

Now a chance for redemption is at hand. Campbell is taking his spikes to Seoul to represent his country for a third time. If no one else has noticed, Campbell has. A receding hairline won’t let him forget.

“I feel old,” Campbell said with a laugh. “I feel vintage in some ways. It’s funny, because I feel kind of hypocritical in a strange sense.

“When I made my first Olympic team, there were a few guys who were 25 or 26 and I said, ‘God, they are ancient.’ Now here I am running at 28.”

Campbell is running at the same high level of consistency. But this is not exactly the same Tonie Campbell. Times have changed and so has he.

In April of 1985, Campbell clipped a hurdle in Trinidad and took a nasty spill. He lay on the track, staring into the stadium lights. He laughed.

The laughter faded the next morning. Campbell’s right knee ballooned to twice normal size. He returned home to an operating table. A torn nerve and ligaments were repaired.

“The doctor said it was all over,” Campbell said. “He said, ‘Hey, we’re doing as much as we can for you, but if you ever run again it will be a miracle. Just to jog would be a good thing.’ ”

Not good if you make your living by running.

“It was like a slap in the face,” Campbell said. “At (that) moment, I realized I was not immortal in track and field. It was very much an eye-opening experience. But it opened more than just my eyes. It opened my soul.”

Campbell took a long look at himself and didn’t like what he saw. At 25, he was still living in Carson with his parents. He hadn’t finished school at USC. He didn’t have a job.

“I was leading a wild and crazy life,” Campbell said. “I was living haphazardly. All the money I made, I just spent and didn’t care about tomorrow. I was basically abusing the gift that God had given me.

“I needed to learn to be humble and learn that tomorrow is not guaranteed. It was a desperate feeling. From that moment, I’ve changed quite a bit. I’ve become more responsible, more of an adult, more of a man.”

Campbell has returned to USC and is within a semester of finishing his marine biology degree. In January, he moved into his own home in Ontario.

The knee injury changed Campbell personally--and professionally.

When Matsuda began working with Campbell, he saw a very different athlete. Campbell is articulate and easygoing, qualities that don’t necessarily help in hurdles.

“He’s a real nice guy, but unless you shed that image when you take the starting line, it’s going to come back to haunt you,” Matsuda said. “He didn’t have the ability to turn into somebody else on the blocks.

“He was as good as anybody, but he would question himself. At crunch time, he was hoping that he could do it instead of just doing it. We had to change that.”

They did. Campbell returned from his injury with vengeance. Four months after being told he would never run competitively again, Campbell won the World Cup in Canberra, Australia. He wasn’t satisfied.

Matsuda’s preaching of a new approach to running sank in. It also fueled Campbell’s desire for the recognition that had always eluded him. Together, they made Campbell nearly unrecognizable to close friends.

“Sometimes I think we created a monster,” Matsuda said. “He went to the other extreme.”

That extreme included a highly publicized rivalry with Foster. The frustration of being the other guy began to show in Campbell. After one race, the two had to be separated by Nehemiah.

“Promoters loved it,” Campbell said. “They wanted to see this rivalry between me and Greg Foster. After each race, we tear each other’s heads off. We race, and then we stop and box.

“I think both of us were just used negatively. It seems to me that some people almost have that rock-and-wrestling mentality. Bring in more money with celebrity names and guys who are going at each other and screaming at each other. But that’s not what track and field is all about.”

Campbell and Foster talked about the uncomfortable situations that developed at nearly every meet. They decided to call a truce.

“I started feeling bad about my responsibility to the young athletes coming up,” Campbell said. “I don’t want to send a pattern out on that stage of my life when I talked a lot and was brash. I don’t want athletes to be like that.”

Campbell’s competitiveness had to be reined in because it was hurting his performances.

“He wanted to beat Greg so badly that he was trying to run too fast,” Matsuda said.

It showed last year at the U.S. qualifying trials for the World Championship Games. Campbell got off to a slow start, tried to make up for it too quickly and stumbled over a hurdle. He failed to make the team.

That negative experience was turned into a positive one last month at the Olympic trials.

Campbell went to Indianapolis intent on just making the U.S. team. Winning the finals was not important.

“I was so concerned about just making the team that I took the last two hurdles a little extra cautiously,” Campbell said. “I didn’t care about losing the race, because basically by (finishing) in the top three, you win.”

Campbell’s time of 13.25 was just eclipsed by Kingdom’s 13.21 mark. Arthur Blake of Florida State took the third U.S. spot in 13.28. Foster, who competed with 14 screws and five plates in his broken left arm, failed to make it out of the semifinals.

Making the Olympic team for a third time was actually a surprise for Campbell. Until this last year, he had thought his glory days were behind him. Before setting his personal record with a 13.19 last year, he went three years without lowering his best time.

“I thought I was on my way out,” Campbell said. “I had prepared myself to lose (at the Olympic trials), which is the first time I have ever done that.”

The self-doubt was back again. So Matsuda worked on still another change. He knew Campbell could make his third team. He had to make Campbell realize it.

“Positive reinforcement is what I’ve always had to work on with Tonie,” Matsuda said. “But insecurity and respect make you great because they give you concentration.”

Insecurity and respect were dealt with between coach and hurdler this last year.

With his star athlete now 28, Matsuda realized that the old training methods were no longer going to be reliable. The constant pounding of running was not good for Campbell’s joints. New workouts needed to be developed.

“It’s like a Jaguar with one unbalanced tire,” Matsuda said. “Sooner or later, the stress is going to cause the need for new shocks. You have to work hard properly. Just working hard is not doing it. Donkeys work hard.”

Together with Dr. Frank Jobe, Matsuda began experimenting with odd training techniques.

“There’s nothing in the books,” Matsuda said. “We’re just dreaming up stuff to do. Necessity is the mother of invention.”

Matsuda finally decided to have Campbell go through the running motion twice a week in a swimming pool. In the pool, they could bring about cardiovascular benefits and eliminate stress on knees and ankles.

At first, Campbell was a little reluctant to change. Training for the hurdles in the swimming pool at the Torrance YMCA didn’t seem to make sense.

“I was scared,” Campbell said. “The Olympic year is not the year you want to be experimenting.”

However, Campbell’s doubts subsided after a few wet workouts.

“I have been with Matsuda over 10 years and he hasn’t steered me wrong yet,” Campbell said. “I have to put my faith in him. He’s my coach.

“Matsuda is just the best. That man has done wonders for me, because I shouldn’t be where I am. There was no way I should have become an Olympian. He’s put strength in my bones and knowledge in my mind. That’s one of the main reasons I’ve been around for so long--I know the event.”

Campbell has to know the event. He’s not nearly the fastest runner among the elite hurdlers. And his 6-3, 165-pound body doesn’t suggest a superior athlete.

“I’m a little beanpole,” Campbell said.

The way Campbell makes up for his physical disadvantages is by fine-tuning the techniques of running the hurdles. Not spilling to the track can beat speed.

“Tonie doesn’t have speed, so he has to get on and off the hurdles as fast as he can,” Matsuda said. “I think he’s the best technician in the world.”

“I’ve compensated by getting the most out of my body,” Campbell said. “Almost. I don’t believe I’ve run the fastest I ever will, either. That’s still yet to be seen.”

Matsuda knows Campbell has not flashed his best time.

“There’s a lot of room for improvement,” Matsuda said. “That’s what’s so positive about the future. Some kids mature early, some kids mature late. Tonie is maturing at the right time. It’s like wine. You don’t want to mature early.”

Since he is feeling “vintage,” Campbell hopes that everybody sees his best in next month’s Olympic Games. If so, perhaps more people will take notice of just who Tonie Campbell is. And who he has been.

“I have a goal,” Campbell said. “I’ve always wanted to be famous. I think that’s my motivating factor. I want to be somewhat of a household name. I’m saying this in the most humble way. I don’t want to sound arrogant.

“When I walk down the street, I want people to say: ‘That’s Tonie Campbell. He was a great athlete, a great runner at one time.’ Not just a few people. Enough people.”

Perhaps then he won’t have to show off that special room in his house.