Kevin
Dilworth - The "Full Monty" of Athletics
Mark Butler for the IAAF
5 September 2001 - Kevin Leon Dilworth can count himself very unlucky not to be the overall Grand Prix points leader prior to Melbourne. He was in front before Berlin, even though the excellent distance of 8.30 had netted him only third spot in Brussels behind Stringfellow and Pedroso. Then at the final Golden League, he lost one more valuable point after the controversial re-instatement of Pedroso's final attempt. He is now equal second in the standings, just two behind hurdler Allen Johnson and still within range of the overall title, just.
However bad Dilworth's luck is now, it is a lot better than in 1998 when he was compelled to take drastic action in order to make ends meet. He was already a world-class long jumper but a fall-out with his coach and manager left him without a contract or the chance to get into the big meets in Europe that year.
"I was supposed to be in these meets," he explained. "They were supposed to take care of my contract, but it never got finalised and I was starving, I couldn't pay my rent, I didn't have any money."
At first he worked in a shop in his hometown of Abilene, Texas. "Then I had a buddy who worked in a strip club out of town," he recalled. "One night, I did it as well, and because I had a 'track body' I made probably $500. I made good money. I got my rent paid and food taken care of."
In case anyone feels this might be a tabloid-style exposé of an off-record conversation, please note that Dilworth talks about this time in his life freely and with a grin on his face. It was a means to an end for a struggling athlete, but an episode he enjoyed at the time.
"If you have to do something, have fun while doing it," he explained. "I was good at it, I was buff. I only did it on Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, three days a week, that's all I needed to do."
No training was required. "I like to go to clubs and dance, so I already knew how to dance," he recalled. "The main [difficult] thing was getting in front of people and taking my clothes off. But it's funny what a little alcohol can do."
He did not have a particular stage name. "I came out as different characters, a fireman, a policeman, a doctor. When I was a doctor they said 'the love doctor's in tonight'."
It should be clarified that Dilworth did not go all the way with the strip. "It wasn't a nude club," he explained, "so you had some briefs or boxers on. But there was a room there called the 'laid back room' where you could take the women and do a lap-dance for them."
However, Dilworth never crossed the line to meet some of the saucier requests of his fans, some of whom used to follow him home after the shows. "No way, that's the lowest thing you can do. You do that, there's no telling what could happen."
Did he ever perform for men? "No," he laughed, "I don't do that. I really couldn't have contemplated that!" In May 1999, the love doctor hung up his stethoscope. "I earned enough so I could stop," he said. "They didn't want me to, because I brought good business."
Dilworth still has a great physique, with an impressive V-shape back which can be clearly recognised when fully-clothed. Yet you will not see him stripping off and flexing in front of an athletics crowd nowadays, like, say, the United States sprint relay team.
"No ... that's my past," he confirms. "that's why I put so much into this [the long jump], because I never want to go back to doing anything like that ever again."
Until his Grand Prix success in 2001, Dilworth's biggest claim to fame was jumping 8.68 in the first round of the World final in Athens 1997. That was the distance from take-off to landing, his official mark was 7.88. Unfortunately, he pulled a groin in the process and could take no further part in the contest. The 7.88 earned him eighth place but the 8.68 would have won the competition with ease. He also reached the world final in 1999, placing 7th, but missed out on the US teams for Atlanta, Sydney and Edmonton.
Kevin Dilworth was born in Jacksonville, Texas, on Valentine's Day 1974. At first he planned to be a footballer, but watching the sport on television turned him on to athletics. He was also attracted by the individual perspective of a competitor in track and field.
"When you win, you've won it for yourself," he explained. "You don't have a whole team behind you. You know what it took to get there, you know the hard work it took, and you know what you put into it every day to win. That's what drives me. It's not the money, it's the desire to win, to be number one. I saw athletes like Carl Lewis and all these guys and said I want to be like them one day."
At 17 he jumped "7.60-something" then gradually improved until his final year at Abilene Christian University in 1996. It was then he broke through to 8.47, which still stands as his personal best. His coach now is former vault star Joe Dial, who likens the long jump run-up to that of the pole
vault.
"The approach run with the pole vault is the same in the long jump," Dilworth suggests. "I just don't have a pole in my hand. The main thing is that he [Dial] utilises what I have. I have speed. When I'm with Joe, he breaks the whole thing down. Our chemistry is tight."
Undoubtedly Dial's own experience as an international athlete - he set eight United States records in the 1980s - has helped Dilworth cope with life in the Grand Prix.
"Before, when I came to these meets and saw Beckford or Pedroso or someone like that, I would freak out," he admitted. "I would not rate myself with those guys. Now, I'm at a point in my life where I've been to the washers and cleaners and I'm where I need to be. These guys are human. They can beat me like anybody else. They can have bad days like anybody else. But I am ready at any given time to take it away from them." After the 2001 season, Dilworth will return to his home in Dallas, his wife Bridget - who he met after his days as a stripper - and their two rottweilers, Chaos and Cyclops. "I named them that because that's what I used to be," he revealed. "Cyclops, because I wasn't very observant. And that's what they were like when they were puppies. The little one was just doing everything, so he was Chaos. Cyclops, he would just sit there doing nothing."
