TRANQUIL TIMES FOR A BIG WHEEL : Eddy B. No Longer Leads U.S. Cycling, but He’s Still Coaching, Thinking Big

The medium-built man on a motorcycle plays Pied Piper to a single-file line of bicyclists, pacing their morning workout at the San Diego Velodrome.

He’s wearing a denim jacket, blue shorts, white tennis shoes and a blue helmet; a shock of graying hair juts from beneath it.

As he circles the track, lap after lap, his face never changes expression. He is content, in his element.

Under the cloudless sky, a gentle breeze stirs the air. It is an idyllic scene, a rare moment of tranquility in the life and times of Eddy B.

For 11 years, Eddy Borysewicz served as director of the U.S. national cycling team. It was a stormy, sometimes controversial tenure.

And a tremendously successful one.

Under his guidance, American cyclists won more than 50 medals in world championship, Olympic and Pan American Games competition, and the sport gained popularity in the media and public.

Mike Fraysee, a member of the U.S. Cycling Federation’s board of directors and close friend of Borysewicz, said: “There has never been anyone to have the impact Eddy B. has had. He took us from a floundering federation to one of the top three in the world.”

Jerry Lace, executive director of the cycling federation, added: “He’s the single individual responsible for what’s happening in cycling in the U.S.”

That ended in January.

In a surprising announcement eight months before the Olympic Games, Borysewicz resigned. All parties insist he was not forced out.

“Eddy and I had talked about him leaving at the end of the year,” Lace said. “But in January, I was surprised. We had to scramble.”

Mark Hodges was appointed director of the national teams, and cycling officials say the change probably won’t affect American chances at the Olympics in Seoul.

Lace said Borysewicz (pronounced Bor-SAY-vich) has assisted in the transition and remains a consultant to the team.

But most of his time these days is spent at home in Escondido or at the track in Balboa Park, coaching several members of the Brazilian national team and a couple of the best U.S. riders.

He said he is satisfied.

“When I am with athletes,” he said, “I am always happy.”

It was the time away from athletes, haggling and hassling with administrators, that led to his resignation, Borysewicz said.

“I resign because I can’t do what I like to do,” he said.

Eddy B., a native of Poland, has a reputation as an intense taskmaster, but his voice belies that. It is a soft and gentle, with a pronounced accent.

“After ‘84, I say everything must be different,” Borysewicz said. “I don’t want to use the people (assistant coaches without paying them) anymore. They must get right pay. Must be right everything.

“It is not. Administration has nice offices, great jobs. But not coaches.

“I see I cannot be successful. I am bad politician. I am coach. I say I better leave. In January, I resign because I cannot have what I ask: coaches, money and different program.”

Lace said changes he has made the past couple of years, forcing more accountability and tightening budgets, did not sit well with Borysewicz and contributed to his resignation.

“The system is changing,” Lace said. “I do not allow the freedom and flexibility the former executive director did. At one point, Eddy was almost the entire federation. But his freedom was curtailed.”

The biggest change occurred last year when Borysewicz was demoted from director of both national teams to director of just the men’s team. He says that didn’t bother him but acknowledges he and Lace had their differences.

“He gave me hard time,” Borysewicz said. “He did not support me. He had a different way, and he was pushed by different people.

“I like this man, though. I have no problem with him, and I hope he stays in federation. I wish federation the best of luck.”

Borysewicz was born the son of a prosperous army colonel in Lodz, Poland, in 1939.

“I am born in 1939, so I am good guy,” he says, laughing. “In Poland, everybody say before second World War, everything was good. So we say, who was born before second World War is good guys.”

During the war years, he said, “it is very, very difficult. Every family lose somebody. It is nice for you people (Americans) that you never have war.”

He said his family was scheduled to be sent to Siberia but was spared when fighting broke out between Germany and the Soviet Union.

“Our family survived accidentally,” he said.

Once the war ended, Borysewicz became interested in athletics and was considered an excellent runner in his teen-age years.

“I run 400 meters very well,” he said. “The national coach bought me my first bicycle. That was the last day I was running.”

His cycling career began when he was 17 and quickly blossomed. But he never reached his full potential. In 1960, military obligations kept him out of the Olympics, he said. In 1964, injuries prevented him from competing in the Games.

“I was a very fast-growing rider,” he said. “I was national junior champion. Lots of people call me the next coming star. But there was many things wrong with health and crashes. So, I went to university and study hard and I say, ‘What I not done, my boys do for me.’ ”

His boys were young Polish cyclists looking for a coach.

“I pick riders--nobodies--and train these guys to world champions and Olympic champions,” he said.

By 1968, Borysewicz was a member of the national team coaching staff and helped make Poland a world power in the sport.

But the long hours he dedicated to coaching put a strain on his marriage, and in 1974, his wife left him.

“So I quit cycling,” he said. “I ruin my life because of cycling. I had money, but my life was cracked because I love my wife and my family (he also had a daughter, Jiona). I became a teacher at university in physical education program.”

In 1976, Borysewicz took a leave of absence to attend the Olympics in Montreal. He said he had no plans to defect, but he never returned.

“I leave Poland with $2,500 in my pocket to have a break,” he said. “I was tired and disappointed. I say, ‘I will travel one year and see my friends for refreshment.’ I never think I will stay.”

After the Olympics, he said, “I stop off in the United States. The president of the (U.S.) cycling federation knows me and proposed to me to stay. At first, that was like a joke. But when I see his club, I see how much I can do. These guys almost know nothing about cycling. So I start to get excited. I was away from cycling for almost a year, but it is in my blood.

“So, I say, fine, I start over again. It was good for me because States and Poland are separated by ocean and I can forget everything over there. I make the decision to stay. I did not take political asylum. I sent applications to immigration for job opportunity. The federation helped me and I got permanent visa.”

Soon thereafter, he was hired as director of the national team, and U.S. riders began to improve. Greg LeMond, former Tour de France champion, was among the first cyclists Eddy B. worked with. Others included Olympians Rebecca Twigg and Steve Hegg.

His latest protege is Ken Carpenter of San Diego, one of the best sprinters in the country and a good bet to make the 1988 Olympic team.

“If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be at the level I’m at now,” said Carpenter, the 1987 Pan Am gold medalist in matched sprints. “In ‘86, he told me I could be No. 1 in two years. That happened in one year. He motivates me. He’s very dedicated, he’s very intense and is a hell of a motivator. He makes you want to do it.”

For all his success, however, many disagreed with Borysewicz’s methods. Some said he played favorites, and some believed his training techniques were too physically demanding.

“When I first come here,” Borysewicz said, “there are people who say, ‘You are communist coach, and you are very tough discipline.’ I say, ‘I am not Hitler.’ In Poland, I was criticized for too much liberty. Some say too hard, some say too easy. Some happy, some unhappy. Always you have people who agree and disagree. This is normal. I respect people who criticize, because you can learn.”

Those problems and complaints seemed minor, however, next to the trouble he faced after the 1984 Olympics.

Soon after the Games, it was revealed that eight members of the U.S. cycling team engaged in the controversial practice of blood boosting (also called blood packing or blood doping), in which an athlete receives a blood transfusion a short time before competition. The athlete hopes to increase the oxygen supply in the body and create more endurance.

At the time, blood boosting was not banned, although the International Olympic Committee and the U.S. Olympic Committee opposed the practice. It now is illegal, but no test is available that can determine whether an athlete has done it.

Borysewicz was suspended for 30 days without pay in January, 1985, by the U.S. Cycling Federation for allowing the blood boosting to occur. He remains adamant that he did nothing wrong.

“When you compete for the gold between the best in the world, sorry, that not recreation,” he said. “You must have best body performance. My job is the training, prepare physically the riders, not do medical stuff. I am not doctor. (But) riders for sure ask any question about anything to coach. Guys ask me, ‘Eddy, blood boosting help or not?’ I say, ‘From my understanding, yes.’ ‘Is it legal?’ ‘Yes it is legal. If you do or not, you have to consult with doctor.’ ”

Interestingly, the incident caused Borysewicz to remain as the national team coach. His second wife, Lucy, wanted him to resign after the ’84 Olympics because of the hectic travel. But after the controversy, Borysewicz said he didn’t want to quit and leave the impression he was admitting a mistake.

“If I resigned, they say, ‘Oh, blood boosting.’ That would show that was wrong,” he said. “Was nothing wrong. I stay and show people that was right.”

Right or wrong, Borysewicz remained, and American cyclists have continued to excel internationally. They are not the best in the world, but they consistently hold their own. In Seoul, Borysewicz said the United States could win as many as five medals in cycling.

But that will be without him.

Four months ago, at 49, Borysewicz became a father for the third time when Julia was born. He is proud but worried, especially since he is without a full-time job.

“My wife wanted a second child,” he said, “and now we have a brand new baby. But she scares me to death because I must support her for the next 20 years. But I am happy because wife is happy, and baby is beautiful.”

Borysewicz, who also has a 9-year-old son, Eddy, from his second marriage, hopes to coach a cycling club on the same level as the powerful 7-Eleven team. He and several partners are seeking a corporate sponsor.

Until then, he makes ends meet as a consultant to the Brazilian cycling federation.

In addition, after resigning in January, he received a little more than $50,000 from U.S. cycling. He and the federation agreed to the buyout in order to avoid litigation. Borysewicz said he believes his contract as director of both national teams was broken when the federation limited his responsibilities to the men’s team last year.

He is not paid by cyclists such as Twigg and Carpenter, who continue to work with him on an individual basis.

“I am not rich, I am not poor,” he said. “I must work. I am looking for something different, to make the best team in the world.”

As he spoke, Borysewicz gazed toward the infield of the Balboa Park velodrome. He saw the overgrown weeds and talked about how the grounds should be spruced up. Locker rooms could be built and the facility could become a first-class cycling center, he said. It could be the way Lodz was, back in Poland, back in the old days. And he could be doing what he does best, developing young riders.

The sun continues to cast a warm glow on the day, and grand plans swirl through his mind.

And, at least for now, tranquility reigns in the life and times of Eddy B.