The first gold, the one Moha Attaoui has in his privileged legs, will not be in Birmingham. The boy from Torrelavega will have to wait, without his usual punch in the final of the 800 at the European Championships, unable to make that video game-like pace change so characteristic of him. He settled for the continental bronze, worsening the silver from two years ago in Rome, behind the unbeatable Mark English and the surprising Marino Bloudek. And ahead of his teammate and friend, a great David Barroso, fourth in his first international final.
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He gave up his usual style, that waiting at the back to leave everyone stunned with his acceleration. Attaoui this time wanted to lead, he went out in front, yielded to the Croatian Bloudek in a slow race, came third to the home straight, when it seemed he still had strength to leave them all behind. But there was no way. Spain’s second medal in Birmingham, after that of his training partner Marta García, tastes a bit bittersweet.
Attaoui’s unique talent rests in his genes – born 25 years ago in Beni Mellal, in the heart of Morocco – unfolds in his carefree mentality as a boy from Torrelavega and in his risky and spectacular race tactics, and develops in the mountains of Switzerland, in idyllic St. Moritz where he lives and trains under Thomas Dreissigacker at OAC Athletic, German discipline and method. Also in the videos of El Guerrouj that he reviews. All that, the mix of success, forges a unique boy.
Setbacks do not intimidate him, the almosts that until now have been his career, fully engaged at the moment in the demanding 800, perhaps the most expensive discipline of the program, before the logical jump to the 1,500. The fifth place debut at the Paris Games, the fifth at last year’s World Championships in Tokyo, already more of a disappointment. He was silver at the last European in Rome and bronze at the last indoor World Championships, in March in Torun, weeks after nearly breaking the world record for 1,000 meters in Madrid.
He came to Birmingham after a strange winter. “A few shitty months” (a virus, then an infection, then too low iron levels and also the death of his grandfather), in his unfiltered words, spoken in the pre-event as a call to journalists, when it seemed he had already finished his speech. “But when I put on the Spain shirt… This is for all those who have doubted me,” he said, like a premonition that was not, because in his ambitious mind there was only the gold that was not.
And even though the final was cheapened by the last-minute injury withdrawal of local Max Burgin. Ben Pattison was not up to par either (sixth). But the impressive Irishman English was, who in the semifinals broke a record, the European one, which had stood since 1978. His 1:43.49 ended Olaf Beyer’s 1:43.84 in Prague. At 34 years old, the gold was his.
If Attaoui’s bronze tasted like little, Barroso’s fourth place was even more so. He ran from less to more, somewhat nervous, looking for gaps he could not find. If there had been 50 more meters of race, the podium would have been his, as was the Spanish championship a few days ago in Malaga.