Bolt and his entourage

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<span style="font-size: 14pt">Runner's world: Usain Bolt and his entourage
From his stylist to his chef, from his bodyguards to his coach, a small army of assistants helps keep Usain Bolt on track at home in Jamaica</span>

By Mark Bailey
8:00AM BST 27 Apr 2012


The fastest man on earth is lying motionless on the spongy blue running track at the University of the West Indies in Kingston, Jamaica. He appears to be asleep. The elongated limbs of his 6ft 5in body stretch across the track like felled branches. Protruding from beneath his hitched-up T-shirt, a xylophone of abdominal muscles glistens in the midday sun. From a nearby festival the mellow patter of reggae floats along the warm Caribbean breeze. A contented smile melts across Usain Bolt’s face.

This supine figure is surrounded by people in a hurry. A film crew, sponsors and PRs are scuttling around, planning, chattering. A photographer is preparing for his next shot, and wants Bolt in a horizontal position. Unbeknown to anyone, some teenage boys have clambered over a fence and are hiding behind an advertising banner. At intervals they pick up the banner and stealthily shuffle closer to their idol, like cartoon spies tiptoeing behind a cardboard bush.

The photographer moves towards Bolt and straddles him, camera poised. Suddenly, one of Bolt’s eyes opens and spins, surveying the comical scene. Then both eyes frantically search the swarm of people for Nugent Walker Junior (‘NJ’), Bolt’s personal assistant, housemate and best friend since primary school. NJ is giggling uncontrollably and is searching his pockets for his camera phone. Bolt starts to crack too – his chest heaves and deep booming laughter fills the air.

This is the life of Usain Bolt, the international sprint sensation who finds himself trailed by sponsors, fans and international media, plus a handful of close friends to gently cocoon him from the madness. <span style="font-weight: bold">His personal entourage has a familial air. His stylist, a matronly Jamaican lady, dabs his face with make-up like a nanny wiping a toddler’s face. His publicist, Carole, brings him a plate of chicken and rice. If these are the mother figures who keep Bolt in check, his coach, Glen Mills, and his manager, Norman Peart, are the stern yet nurturing father figures. His agent, Ricky Simms, and NJ are like brothers, playful but protective. Even his bodyguards, who dress in jeans and trainers, share Bolt’s nonchalance. Today, one is carrying a plastic bag full of food; the other an umbrella in case Bolt requires shade. They look more like his uncles.</span>

This is Bolt’s private world: warm, supportive, casual and fun. &quot;All these people are key for me,&quot; he says in his gruff, playful baritone, when we sit down in an air-conditioned van nearby. &quot;Obviously lots of people want to know me now so it’s hard to know who to trust. All the people I work with have known me for years. And I have childhood friends that I trust. We do everything together – laughing, playing games, going out, talking. These people are like my family. They’re always here.&quot;
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The madness that surrounds him is growing. A global television audience of four billion is expected to watch Bolt perform at the London 2012 Olympic Games this summer. If the 25-year-old is nervous, it doesn’t show. Off the track, his every move is glacially slow. Good humour rises from him like a vapour, coating everyone around. He says he can’t wait to get to England. &quot;I have always had good support in London – especially with all the Jamaican people there – and I have thought of this since Beijing. I want to be a legend. I want people to remember me for ever. That means I need to do great things in London. I’m looking forward to putting on a beautiful performance for the world.&quot;

On the journey to Jamaica I see his face on ads on the London Tube, at New York’s JFK Airport and on billboards in Kingston. &quot;I enjoy all that,&quot; he grins. &quot;I like seeing myself all over the world. Wherever I go people take pictures and put them on Twitter. I enjoy being the centre of attention.&quot;

Bolt’s superhuman achievements, along with his engaging personality, are what make him so compelling. His first world record came in the 100m (9.72 seconds) in New York in May 2008, beating fellow Jamaican Asafa Powell’s record by 0.02 seconds. At the Beijing Olympics that summer he set three world records, in the 100m (9.69), 200m (19.30) and 4 x 100m relay (37.10). The following year, he further slashed his individual records (9.58 and 19.19) at the World Championships in Berlin.

Research by Ethan Siegel, an American theoretical astrophysicist, suggests that Bolt represents a physiological leap forward. The men’s 100m world record has dropped by 0.05 seconds every 10 years since 1968 (when Jim Hines became the first man to break 10 seconds). But Bolt has been performing at a level three decades beyond what should be achievable in the present era, according to Siegel’s graphs. And Dr Peter Weyand, a leading physiologist at Southern Methodist University in Dallas and an expert on the science of sprinting, says &quot;Bolt is a freak – he defies the laws of biology.&quot;

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Re: Bolt and his entourage

Bolt is blessed with unique physical gifts. &quot;He is such an unusual physical specimen and one need not look beyond that for an explanation of his speed,&quot; Mark Denny, a Stanford University biology professor, tells me. With his long legs, Bolt takes 41 steps to complete the 100m. His rivals take 44. He has a high percentage of fast-twitch muscle fibres, which produce explosive speed, and he can channel more than 1,000lb of force through each stride – double the human norm, according to Dr Weyand. Professor Alan Nevill, a biostatistician at the University of Wolverhampton, suggests his superior height enables him to dissipate heat faster, so his muscles can work harder.

Yet Bolt is still regarded as not taking his talents very seriously. He is known for eating chicken nuggets before big races, and plundering Chinese restaurants on trips to London. He performs Jamaican dance hall jigs on the track, and broke the 100m record in Beijing with a shoelace undone, celebrating victory several metres before the line.

But his preternatural gifts are honed by a gruelling training regime. He spends hours refining his technique on the track and building strength in the gym. &quot;Because I am always messing about and my running style looks effortless, a lot of people think I’m lazy – which I am sometimes,&quot; he admits. &quot;But I say to them, 'See you in the morning at 6am, come and watch me train.' I am blessed with natural abilities, but I make the most of what I have. I enjoy myself because I work hard.&quot;

Usain St Leo Bolt was born on August 21 1986 in the parish of Trelawny in north-west Jamaica. He grew up in a bungalow with his father, Wellesley, who ran a grocery store, and his mother, Jennifer. &quot;I am very like my mum,&quot; he says. His stylist nods. &quot;I have her skin, her hair and I am lazy. I probably get my good things from my dad. Me and my mum share the same bad habits.&quot;

Bolt grew up with his older half-sister, Christine, and younger half-brother, Sadiki. He was a hyperactive child. &quot;There’s something wrong with VJ [Bolt’s nickname], he’s not normal, he keeps flipping over and jumping,&quot; his dad remarked, before marching his son to the doctor.

In reality, he simply needed to burn off his excess energy. He was talented at football and cricket but excelled at sprinting and won school and regional competitions. Was he a well-behaved child? &quot;In the middle,&quot; he says sheepishly. &quot;Most of the teachers liked me and knew I was good at running, so if I got into trouble I could get out easily. But if I did something really bad and my dad found out… that was a problem. I used to escape out of the yard a lot. My dad was old school, saying you shouldn’t leave the house until you’ve done your homework. I wanted to play football, so I got in trouble. But you can’t be too good, or it’s no fun, right?&quot;

Fuelled by his favourite meal – his Aunt Lilly’s jerk pork and dumplings – Bolt grew stronger and faster and won a sports scholarship to William Knibb High School in Trelawny. Training was anathema to Bolt and he used to hide in the nearby games arcade instead. As a result, his talent flickered rather than shone.

Following stern lectures from his parents and teachers, at the age of 14 he became more serious. A year later he won 200m gold at the 2002 World Junior Championships in Kingston. Before the race, he was so nervous he put his spikes on the wrong feet, but it was a pivotal moment. &quot;After winning in front of my home crowd, I thought, 'How can I ever worry again?' I’ve been relaxed ever since.&quot;

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Re: Bolt and his entourage

Jamaica expected great things from the young sprinter when he turned professional in 2004, but a combination of debilitating injuries and ill-discipline led to failure at the Athens Olympics – he was eliminated in the first round of the 200m. In Jamaica, journalists were scathing; newspaper cartoons belittled him; locals mocked him on the street.

&quot;People said a lot of bad things about me, that I was lazy or I was always clubbing. They said my career was over.&quot; Disillusioned, he turned to Glen Mills, a portly, bespectacled sprint coach based in Kingston. Mills quickly identified the source of Bolt’s injuries: he suffers from scoliosis (curvature of the spine) and sought treatment. Mills also had the tact to deal with Bolt’s wayward character. &quot;He understands my personality and that’s why we work,&quot; Bolt says. &quot;He is serious and I don’t mess him around, but he makes it fun for me. I need laughter. It’s funny, I look forward to the end of the season when I can party, but after two weeks I want to come back because I miss the fun [at the track].&quot;

<span style="font-weight: bold">Usain Bolt’s five-bedroom mansion in Kingston resembles a teenage boy’s fantasy den. It is littered with giant plasma televisions, game consoles, DJ decks and footballs. Outside, there is a swimming-pool and a fleet of expensive cars including a Range Rover, all black.</span>

Bolt lives with NJ and Sadiki. The trio spend hours playing video games or exploring Kingston’s clubs. &quot;I drink Guinness,&quot; Bolt announces. He says he never argues with NJ, but I remind him of a disagreement they had in front of me last summer. Bolt had wanted to watch Kung Fu Panda 2 at the cinema. NJ preferred X-Men: First Class and got his way. Bolt hated it and chastised his friend.

Bolt loathes domestic chores. &quot;<span style="font-weight: bold">Once a year I will clean my room, just because I feel I should,&quot; he huffs. &quot;But we have cleaners. If the cleaners saw me they would be shocked. I would rather be lying in a bed than changing one. Although I did clean my closet once…&quot; No wonder he loses things. He left his Olympic gold medals in a New York hotel room (but later recovered them), and found his World Championship medals in his wardrobe after a year of searching.</span>

<span style="font-weight: bold">He employs a chef to keep his diet on track. &quot;My coach informs him what to cook, and it’s not KFC,&quot; he says glumly. &quot;He does what he’s told and so do I. My chef won’t let me bribe him.&quot;</span>

Bolt is conducting this interview for his sponsors, Visa Europe. In the accompanying television ad he is seen running around London. In reality, he’s borderline agoraphobic. &quot;I couldn’t even go shopping for clothes in Oxford Street,&quot; he says. &quot;People will jump on me. Camera phones. Screaming. Shouting. Nightmare. I have to get NJ to do my food shopping here,&quot; he says. &quot;If I walk into a supermarket, it is OK as everybody in Jamaica tries to be cool, but if one person asks for a photo then everybody rushes over. It’s chaos.&quot;

Bolt cultivates his playful image, but he has a quieter side. His favourite pastime is dominoes. He confesses that he still likes to doze on the couch with his head on his mother’s lap. He pines for the countryside. &quot;Out in the country people don’t stress me out so much. I visit my parents, who are enjoying retirement. We sit down, play dominoes, drink beers and chill. I love the countryside. That’s where I will build my dream house.&quot;

He coyly admits that he is currently dating a girl. &quot;I’ve traded a few,&quot; he giggles, &quot;but it takes time to meet the right girl and I think this one is going somewhere.&quot;

What about parenthood? &quot;I used to think, 'after the Olympics', but I broke up with my last girlfriend three years ago so it will be a few years before I think about baby Bolts. I will spoil my kids. That could be a big problem. My dad was strict and I want to teach my kids respect, but I will be more chilled out.&quot;

For now, Bolt has more immediate concerns. The world is expecting extraordinary feats this summer. He hopes to complete the 100m in 9.4 seconds and the 200m in under 19 seconds. Will it happen in London? &quot;Who knows?&quot; he says. &quot;I’m more confident that something special might happen in the 200m. The 100m is more technical. If one thing gets messed up, you won’t be as fast. The 200m is my more natural event. Watch and see.&quot;

Bolt’s main rival at the shorter distance is his training partner, Yohan Blake. The 22-year-old won the 100m at last year’s World Championships in Daegu, Korea, after Bolt was disqualified for a false start. &quot;The scuttlebutt is that Bolt jumped because he knew how fast Blake was,&quot; Dr Weyand says.

Bolt admits to nerves, but not fear. &quot;It is better than if I did it in the Olympics,&quot; he says philosophically. &quot;But it won’t happen again. I was not in the right mood. My form was not good so I wanted to put on a show. But I don’t worry about other athletes. If I am in form, I know I’ll win.&quot;

He is also looking beyond London, to the following Games in Rio. &quot;I will definitely try a new event for 2016,&quot; he says. &quot;Maybe the 400m or the long jump. I’d like to continue to sprint but I will want to do something new, to keep it fun.&quot;

When he eventually retires he wants to explore the world of business, through restaurants, fashion and music. He has launched a bar in Kingston called Usain Bolt’s Tracks &amp; Records. &quot;It’s different from all the rest, like me. I check up on it sometimes. I think I could be a good businessman if I applied myself, but I will just get NJ to do everything and take the glory.&quot; He takes a moment to reflect. &quot;The truth is I just want to be happy. In 10 years’ time I want to be comfortable in a nice house with my family and just… relax.&quot;

Before leaving Jamaica, and on Bolt’s recommendation, I visit his bar. There are televisions everywhere – in the booths, above the bar, in the lavatories. The menu serves jerk pork, inspired by his Aunt Lilly’s signature dish. Does Usain ever come here, I ask the waitress. &quot;Oh yes, we see him around,&quot; she replies. Does he ever help out? A frown. &quot;No, not really. He just sits on that couch and has a beer. But that’s OK. We love him. Everybody loves Usain.&quot;

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