Bob Hose Set the 880-Yard Standard 24 Years Ago; Now Mt. Miguel’s Mark Senior Finds Himself . . . : CHASING A DREAM

Tough field . The guys in the sharp, shiny sweats are some of the best half-milers in the world. They are ready to represent their countries in the 1965 Los Angeles Coliseum Relays.

Bob Hose is warming up in the borrowed gray sweat shirt and gray sweat pants, with the hole in the knee and the elastic around the ankle. Hose is representing himself.

As a senior at Madison High School in 1964, Hose was one of the country’s best runners, covering 880 yards in 1 minute 51.1 seconds at the San Diego Section finals. It is a section record that would still stand 24 years later.

His best that year was 1:49.2 in a pre-Olympic meet at Balboa Stadium, three weeks after the 1:51.1. He finished fourth but beat Jim Ryun that day, a week after Ryun became the first high school runner to break the four-minute barrier in the mile.

Even so, Hose can’t be much of a match for these guys in the Coliseum, can he?

Hose, a freshman at Mesa College, runs even with Bill Crothers of Canada. In a photo finish, meet officials declare Crothers the winner, though both are credited with a time of 1:48.3, incredible for someone 19 years old.

Tough field . Vietnam, 1966. That’s Bob Hose and some other Marines. After only four months here--Hose enlisted about a year earlier after he dropped out of Mesa, where he would have been academically ineligible--Hose sustains a minor knee injury. It effectively ends his running career.

Hose ran a few races later while stationed at Quantico Marine Base in Virginia, but he was never the same.

Tough field . Some of the best fishermen in Southern California and a sea of mako sharks are ready for the 1987 Oceanside Mako Shark tournament.

That’s Bob Hose on the deck of his 21-foot boat, the Hard Case. He has been catching makos, which are a little smaller than great white sharks, since he bought his first boat in 1984.

The fishermen may get the best of Hose this weekend in early June--Hose finished third--but the sharks are not much of a match. Hose catches 73 before the year is over, 38 more than anyone else in Oceanside, as far as Hose can tell.

“Mako sharks are a different animal,” said Hose, who also caught the first two marlin in Oceanside in 1987. “I’ve seen them charge the boat and grab the side after I’ve shot them in the head three times with my .357 Magnum. That’s what I love about them. They never give up.”

Nor has Bob Hose given up. He won’t, it seems, until he must.

A running career was one of the few things Hose had to give up. But Hose says he is happy now living with his fifth wife, Virginia, and helping his 7-year-old stepson, Brian, on weekend fishing trips.

Hose has had almost no contact with his past. His first wife threw out all his trophies and scrapbooks, and Hose did not go to a track meet from 1965 until he saw Mt. Miguel High School’s Mark Senior run at a dual meet at Mt. Miguel two weeks ago.

This year, Senior has threatened to break Hose’s section record. His best time is 1:53.09, and although that makes him the third-best high school performer in San Diego County history, consider that Hose ran 1:53.0 or better six times as a senior.

“See, my life style was one way,” Hose said. “Now my life style has changed completely, 180 degrees. People remember me as the athlete, the star, this and that. And right now, what I did, that was a long time ago.

“I’m something else right now. I’ve had my share of knock-down drag-outs in bars. I have a cigar once in a while, drink my beer. That doesn’t seem to fit in with my past. What I did back then, hey, that was great. But I can’t live on it.”

But that does not deter some from remembering, especially now that Senior has challenged the record. He has come closer than anyone since Shawn O’Neal of Oceanside ran 1:52.73 in 1980.

“I’m not taking anything away from Mark when I say that he is going to have to have an outstanding effort to break that record,” said Bob Oliver, who coaches track at Serra and ran with Hose at Mesa.

“The effort he is going to have to make to take two seconds off his time will show people today who don’t remember Hose how great a runner he was. Hose was just one of those talents that come around every so often.”

That talent was apparent when Hose was just a sophomore at Clairemont High. He competed in the long jump, the 120-yard high hurdles, the 880 and the 440 and finished second in the 880 at the section finals with a time of 1:58.8.

Even in the sixth grade, Hose had visions of track stardom. In his first attempt, he took third in a 100-yard race. Nothing spectacular, unless you consider that Hose was running without shoes on a cinder track.

“All the other kids had these fancy shoes,” Hose said. “After that, my parents bought me a pair of sneakers.”

Hose switched schools when Madison opened during his junior year. After running 1:54.9 to win the section title that year, Hose made a splash at the state meet. He ran 1:51.7 in the finals, which would have broken the existing national high school record. Problem was, Dennis Carr of Lowell High in Whittier won that race in 1:50.9.

“After that, we knew he was going to be a great runner his senior year,” said Rick Smith, who covered track for a local newspaper in the 1960s and is now the Chargers’ public relations director.

Smith and everyone else had to wait to see how great Hose would be. He was ineligible for much of the season. Both he and Coach Gordan Carter said a Spanish teacher who did not like athletes flunked Hose.

But the time Hose spent away from the track team was not wasted. His workouts by himself added to his legend.

Because Hose was prevented from practicing with the team, Carter gave him a regimen to practice on his own. As Hose remembers it, he would get up early in the morning and put in 15 miles before school. At school, he would do his speed work on his own instead of going to a regular physical education class. Then, after school, he’d go for another 15-mile run, sometimes carrying orange juice cartons filled with cement.

Carter remembers that Hose was supposed to do 10 miles twice a day, but the point is the same: Hose trained to run the half-mile the way some train for the marathon today.

“The first two miles were hell,” Hose said. “People would look at me like I was nuts. Now it’s popular to jog, but not in ’64. People would yell stuff like, ‘Hey, you idiot! What are you doing out in the rain?’ After two miles, I was free from the passing remarks (because he was away from populated areas).

“Running for me was freedom. I didn’t like sitting there in a desk, listening to some guy throwing out some song and dance. But I’d drive myself for track.”

Hose looked as if he had not missed a beat when he returned to the team. Smith remembers a time trial Hose ran in front of Carter and Coach Bob Kurchaff, now deceased. Hose ran 1:53.4 by himself.

The next day--April 17, his first day of eligibility--Hose ran a nation-leading 1:53.5.

“I was really dedicated. It was something inside of me,” Hose said. “I lived and breathed track. If the coach told me to go out and do something, I did it. It might have killed me, but I’d come back and say, ‘Piece of cake.’ ”

Carter said Hose’s work ethic was a big reason why he became the favorite to win the section and state titles. The section meet was no problem; he set the record of 1:51.1. But the state meet was a different story.

Carter said he had prepared Hose to take the lead early. If he did that, Carter said, the state record would be in sight.

But Hose was boxed in and found himself in sixth or seventh with 180 yards to go. As Smith remembered it, Hose went outside to the third or fourth lane on the last turn and sped past the best runners in the state.

“He won by 10 yards,” Smith said. “He didn’t look impressive running in sixth or seventh. I figured he was dead. But he overtakes the whole field and wins going away. It was a very impressive feat. Hose was a brilliant competitor, a hard-nosed, tough runner.”

Though he had to change strategy and survive a slower pace, Hose’s time of 1:50.8 just missed the state record of 1:50.7, according to Carter.

Two weeks later, Ryun was in town. Bob Timmons, now coach at Kansas, was at Wichita East High, where Ryun was a junior. Timmons had brought Ryun to compete at several meets on the West Coast.

Ryun had received much publicity after he set the mile record. Carter was afraid that would hurt Hose’s confidence, so he made sure the two spent as much time together as possible during the week before the race.

“I didn’t want Bob to be intimidated,” Carter said. “I wanted to give him as much exposure as possible to Ryun so he could see that he was made of flesh and blood.”

Hose didn’t win that day; Peter Snell of New Zealand, who won the Olympic gold medal in the 800 meters that year, was first.

Ryun said he remembers the race only vaguely. He finished fifth and Hose finished fourth, Ryun thought. Ryun’s time was 1:50.0 or 1:50.1; he wasn’t sure.

“I just remember being very pleased for Hose,” Ryun said from his home in Wichita.

Twenty-four years later, Carter remembers it vividly.

“Bob’s strength was his kick with about 180-250 to go,” Carter said. “He started with about 200 yards to go and just ran by Ryun.”

Hose said he dropped at the finish line, his legs cramping so badly that two men had to help him to straighten them out.

Soon after, Hose decided to go to Mesa and run for Dick Coxe. That was not because Mesa was the only place that wanted him. Hose said he had scholarship offers from 26 schools but couldn’t accept any; his grades at Madison were too low.

“That’s a place where I screwed up, (not) getting an education,” Hose said. “I was afraid of the big schools because I wasn’t a student. I had all those offers sitting on the kitchen table, but school wasn’t my thing.”

Going to a community college did not hurt Hose’s running career. Hose called Coxe, who retired in 1982 after coaching at Mesa for 18 years, “the Einstein of track.”

“He pushed me so hard, he had me crying at times,” Hose said. “Especially during wind sprints. If I wasn’t performing hard enough, I could see it in the corner of his eye. I knew that meant to run harder. If someone had the will or the desire, he could hone them to a real sharp point.”

Bob Oliver remembered practice differently. He said it was frustrating to watch Hose go through an arduous workout seemingly with ease, while the others hugged the bottom of their shorts.

“Coach Coxe would have us do 440-yard intervals,” Oliver said. “We were supposed to do them in 58 or 56 (seconds). I would have to knock my fanny off to try to do it. Bob was so smooth and easy. He would have no problem running that fast, time after time.”

The Southern California community college cross-country championships that year were just another place for Hose to show off.

“He was the fourth or fifth guy (on a six-man team) and I was No. 3,” Oliver said. “But Bob blew by about 10 people in the last 600 yards. He tore people up. I finished like 19th and Bob was 13th. It showed a lot of guts for a middle-distance guy who had never run cross-country to perform like that.”

A few months later, Hose did it again. This time, he was running the 1,320-yard leg on the Mesa distance-medley team at the Mt. San Antonio College Relays. He took the baton trailing by a lot but gave his team the lead by 10 yards. His time was 2:59.3.

“He tore people up,” Oliver said.

Then there was the 880 at the conference championships. Hose won that, too, after being stretched out on the infield with a knee injury about half an hour before the race started.

“I said, ‘God, if he could win under these circumstances, he could win with one leg,’ ” Oliver said.

Coxe said those races pale in comparison to that day at the Coliseum in 1965.

Hose actually might have won. There were two tapes, the first at 800 meters and one at 880 yards. It was an 880-yard race, but international runners, to whom 880 yards meant little, wanted a time for 800 meters.

Crothers made his move with about 300 yards to go. Hose didn’t fade.

“I remember coming out of the last corner, and out of the whole crowd, I could hear my brother and father screaming,” Hose said.

Wide-eyed, Hose saw only the first tape. He leaned for it and broke it first, but then stumbled to cross the second line at the same time as Crothers.

“It was a great race,” Coxe said. “The picture from the photo finish was on the cover of the program the next year.”

That was the last race Hose ran. Things were going well in track, but school had taken second place.

Being academically ineligible was only part of the reason for his decision to enlist in the Marines, Hose said. A pact with a buddy, Gary Zucker, was another.

“We were sitting around one day, and we said, ‘To hell with all this . . . in the paper. Let’s go over to Vietnam and see what it’s all about ourselves,’ ” Hose recalled. “I think there were a lot of macho feelings behind (that decision).

“I probably burned myself out. I was looking for something else. Maybe it was just temporary. But I didn’t want to make it that temporary.”

Hose said he now regrets the decision. Oliver and Coxe were shaking their heads as soon as they heard.

“I felt bad when he dropped out of school,” Oliver said. “He had a beautiful stride. He had the perfect build, 6-1, about 145 pounds. It was like he was meant to run.”

Said Coxe: “Bob was one of the most natural middle-distance runners I have seen. It was a shame that he had to quit, but those things happen. It made me sick, but there was nothing I could do about it. But he will always be a legend.”

Coxe and Oliver--even Hose--speculated that Hose might have been a great miler, had he stuck with track. He had foot speed and could endure long workouts.

But that’s all it ever was--speculation. The knee injury prevented him from regaining his previous form.

After he left the Marine Corps, Hose returned to San Diego with his bride, his high school sweetheart, Mary. They had a son, Vincent, who now lives in El Cajon.

Hose was a member of the San Diego Police Dept. and drove an ambulance for a time on the graveyard shift (11 p.m.-7 a.m.).

Soon after that, Hose’s marriage hit the rocks and his medals hit the trash bin. Hose quit the police force and went “looking for adventure” in Brazil, Honduras, Israel and Africa.

Eventually, he became a deck hand on long-range fishing boats for a local sports fishing company. After one trip around the cape of Baja, Hose decided not to come back; he worked on fishing boats in La Paz for six months.

That changed when Hose stepped on a poisonous stone fish. He was taken to the hospital and cured, but Mexican authorities found that Hose did not have the proper papers to stay. Hose said they took him to the city limits and left him there with $1.20 in his pocket.

“It took me nine days to get back to Tijuana, and I was robbed twice,” Hose said. “When I crossed the border at San Ysidro, I called my mom. She sent a cab. They put me in the hospital for malnutrition and exposure.”

After several odd jobs and three more wives, Hose met Virginia and settled down in Oceanside. His life has changed in the five years they have been married, he said.

“My wife was probably the best thing that ever happened to me. Gave me a good sense of who I am and what my possibilities are,” Hose said. “This one has got me.”

One thing that Virginia does not like, however, is fishing. Hose may share his life with “Ginny,” but he loves to fish alone.

“I love being out there on the ocean,” Hose said. “I could never give it up, the peace and quiet. I can’t tell you how many fishing trips I’ve taken just to be out there with a cigarette and a beer. It’s great to get away from everything.”

Maybe the discipline and patience Hose has as a top fisherman stems from the disciplined life he once led.

“I treat my fishing like I did track and field,” Hose said. “I prepare myself the best way I can with the best equipment I can.”

His track career does not come up often these days, however. In fact, he shrinks from talking about it at times. Hose called in sick after an article was published about him in the monthly office newspaper at the Singer Co., where he works.

“I just wanted to let things cool down a little,” he said.

Even his wife knows little about his career.

“All my past is what my mother tells her,” he said. “Ever since I moved up to North County, I (have) kept a low profile. I haven’t even gone to class reunions. I just stayed away, started a life on my own. I wasn’t in the mood to try to catch up on something that I left behind me.

“I always say look ahead, look ahead. I had good times back then. But, man, that was a long, long time ago.”

His first journey back to the track was unnatural at first. He has so removed himself from the sport that his first question as he crossed the infield was, “Do they let girls run now, too?” They didn’t at the last meet Hose attended.

But Hose warmed up to Senior right away. The two talked about strategy, keeping the arms moving so the feet would, too, what it feels like to come around the last turn feeling as if there is nothing left for the critical final straightaway . . .

“You could break the record if you wanted to,” Hose told Senior, who is a senior. “It takes a lot of work, a lot of drive. You almost have to drive yourself to insanity to do it. But you can do it, if it’s important enough.”

Senior had heard of Hose’s record. He said he saw it in a book a few years ago and immediately set his sights on it.

“That time stood out,” said Senior, who probably has two more chances, at the section meet on May 28 and the state meet on June 4. “I saw that and I said, ‘This guy was a god. I want to be like him.’ ”

Senior knew who Hose was. That puts him in a small group of people.

“It’s sad because I don’t think people think of Bob Hose when they think of middle-distance runners in San Diego,” Oliver said. “I don’t think his running career was long enough for that to happen. People think of Thom Hunt or (Tim) Danielson. Bob did not get the national exposure that they did. It’s too bad people don’t remember him.”

Not for Bob Hose. Though he said he is going to take Virginia and Brian to their first track meet, the section finals, he’d just as soon let the past pass.

“I’m really sorry nobody has taken (the record) off the scoreboard,” he said. “I’d like to kick back and reminisce. But I can’t live on it. I have to go on.”

A LASTING RECORD

Improvement in selected section meet records from 1964 to 1988:

Event 1964 Record Current 220 yards 21.7 21.0 440 yards 48.5 47.3 880 yards 1:51.1 1:51.1 Mile 4:14.4 4:06.2 120 HH 14.4 14.1 Pole Vault 14-5 3/4 15-8 Long jump 24-0 1/2 25-5 Shotput 60-9 63-11 High Jump 6-8 7-0