What bothers me is that I have fallen against a rival worse than me
Jakob Ingebrigtsen, after losing to Jake Wightman in the 1,500m final at the 2022 World Cup
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22 years have passed since that magnificent duel, the 1,500th of the indoor World Cup in Lisbon, and Rui Silva (46) and Reyes Estévez (47) have fun recreating their lives.
They pose for Martín Pérez, the Sportmedia photographer who has taken the peeling yellow tram in the background, which rests at the doors of the Dom Pedro hotel, in Lisbon. They both chat and get tangled in their thoughts and, at the end of the photo session, you have to ask them to focus.
–Come on, let's debate! –I ask them, while they take a seat in a hotel room.
(...)
–How do you remember that day? –I finally ask them.
Reyes Estévez moves forward. Under the table, Rui Silva's leg trembles. Mentally, both have started running like that day.
In their dreams, athletes relive the past, the times of glory, the times when the world was theirs. Sometimes, in the depths of the night, they kick. I wish all that had gone on forever, they say to themselves.
Today, both are in enviable shape. Even conditioned by an Achilles tendon problem, Rui Silva's silhouette retains its shape. He looks compact and solid, as he had been in his middle-distance runner days.
Reyes Estévez moves in other parameters: he is sharp. Run 120 km weekly. Compete marathons. He is one step away from going under 2h20m, a goal that has gotten between his eyebrows. He wins half marathons: he runs them in 1h07m. This Sunday he competes in an 8.5 km race. He does it in Lisbon, within the framework of the marathon and half marathon that EDP and Hoka sponsor in the Portuguese capital.
On that March 10, 2001, Rui Silva could feel the spirit of the Atlantic Pavilion, the stage of the World Cup. Rui Silva was the local idol, a weighty middle distance runner on the international stage, silver in the 1998 European Championship, just behind Estévez, both ahead of Fermín Cacho.
–I had prepared it thoroughly. She came in Lisbon and you had to be at your best – says Rui Silva.
(His Spanish is impeccable).
–And that pressure from the public, didn't it scare you?
-It depends on you. I knew the noise was good because they were shouting for me. But before the test, that caused me stress. And that stress added to what you already feel before a race. Reyes already knows what I'm talking about. He could feel it in the World Cup in Seville (1999) or in the World Cup in Madrid (2002). Did you feel it?
“I felt it,” says Estevez.
–In the end, if it goes well, you are delighted with the pressure from the public but, if not... criticism rained down. I tried not to think about that.
–What a great atmosphere there was. And I was the bad guy in the movie – says Reyes Estévez.
Estévez had also thoroughly prepared for that indoor World Cup. He felt good in the winter.
–And he was angry about my exclusion from the Sydney 2000 Games, the previous year. I didn't usually prepare the indoor track, I preferred cross country, but that time I did.
I had had the opportunity to check it out myself. Fifteen days before that appointment, the coach had brought us together on the slopes of the CAR in Sant Cugat
(The coach was Gregorio Rojo, Estévez's legendary coach, the same one who years before had coached José Manuel Abascal).
Estévez had decided to test his form with a test over 1,200. Three athletes agreed to play the hare. One for each lap. The first hare took off and crossed the 400 mark in 54 seconds. The second clocked in at 58 seconds. I had to take him from there to the end. At the passing of a thousand, Estévez said enough and stopped.
I could hear him huffing and puffing behind me: a giant, at his limit.
–I didn't finish the 1,200m test, but I clocked 2m22s in that thousand, and that was a good indicator –Estévez remembers now.
Rui Silva nods.
–It was, it was –says the Portuguese.
(...)
Once the previous rounds had been completed, Rui Silva and Reyes Estévez had competed for the title. Hicham el Guerruj had risen to the highest distance, 3,000, and Noah Ngeny, Kenyan, Olympic gold eight months earlier, in Sydney, had shown signs of weakness.
–In the semifinal, I had seen a vulnerable Ngeny. On the other hand, Rui Silva was very fine – says Reyes Estévez.
–Actually, Ngeny was a mystery. He had not competed indoors, there was no data on him. There were other people, like Adil Kauch, who finished very quickly. Or Rotich, another Kenyan. The race for the medal was not a given, and he was also going very slowly.
They crossed the 400 in 1m10s, with Ngeny on the rope and Estévez behind, and with Silva lounging a little further back, always open.
–In 1999, in the World Cup in Seville, I had fallen in the semifinal, when I was in the middle of the group, and that is why I had decided to run on the outside, with views and space – Silva justifies.
–And marking Estévez? –She tells him.
–Marking Estévez. It was easy to take him as a reference, he could be seen from afar. And I, being small, moved well on the banked curves of the indoor track.
As the km passed, very slowly, in 2m43s10, Ngeny accelerated, and Estévez followed him.
–And shortly after I jumped. The fans already know me: I am very impetuous and when I see myself strong, I don't think. With 250 m left I went out with everything – he says.
At the bell, a fabulous chase was launched.
Rui Silva was walking a meter behind Estévez, whose face was reddened.
–I got a little nervous –acknowledges Estévez, who bowed his head in the last 30 m.
Silva achieved gold in 3m51m06. Estévez arrived 19 hundredths later. Ngeny was bronze.
For years, both continued to compete in European, world and Olympic finals. Today, Rui Silva has three children (Patricia, the eldest, is an international 80-year-old) and works in the high performance area of the Portuguese Federation, and Reyes Estévez is a professional coach and amateur distance runner. Although, for our readers, they are two friends who sit and dream about each other.
How can you forget those days?
