They All Believe in You, Q

Right on, Q!

That’s what they were saying or shouting Wednesday from sunny Spain to Southern California after a take-it-in-stride 22-year-old with speed to burn, quintessential quarter-miler Quincy Watts, finally decelerated long enough to take an Olympic victory lap, wrapped in the American flag.

Right on, Q!

That is what his father, Rufus, wearing a black T-shirt with a gigantic golden “Q” on the front, was saying at trackside when Quincy came around to interlock fingers and raise their four arms together in a human steeple. And it is what his co-workers at the post office will be saying about his son as soon as Rufus returns to Los Angeles.

Right on, Q!

That is what his mother, Allitah Hunt, who communicates with her son by birthday card, was shouting at her television--Quincy is sure of that--at her home near Detroit, where the child she sent to St. Theresa’s Catholic school kept getting into so much mischief that it would have exhausted the patience of Mother Teresa, so she turned his upbringing over to his father.

“I haven’t seen her in eight years, but I know she’s proud of me,” Watts said wistfully as California to Barcelona suddenly became a sentimental journey. “Maybe I’ll call up my mother and my grandmother and invite them out to do some celebrating with me.”

Right on, Q!

That is what the students from Taft High back in Woodland Hills must have been saying about a former classmate whom they knew was headed somewhere--the NFL, the NBA, somewhere --and was headed there in a hurry. That’s what a rival runner, Bryan Bridgewater, who ended Watts’ two-year rule of the State 200 meters in his senior year at Washington Prep, was saying after he saw his former adversary win a gold medal.

“I’m happy for him,” Bridgewater said. “I know what he went through over the years. I’m not surprised at all how Quincy has done.”

Right on, Q!

That pretty much sums up what his collegiate coach, Jim Bush, was feeling while vacationing at Lake Tahoe and watching the kid he dared to convert into a USC quarter-miler--and nearly scared into becoming a USC wide receiver--go thundering around the oval of the Olympic Stadium with such force that the 400-meter world record was very nearly his.

“I’m very, very excited,” Bush said. “I’m so proud of him. He’s the greatest prospect I’ve ever seen.”

Right on, Q!

That was exactly the sentiment of his coach, John Smith, who once owned the world record himself at 440 yards and who would have treasured having Quincy among the sprinters he coaches at UCLA, but gladly will settle for having had the chance to guide him to the gold. “I got a world record, but I don’t have a gold medal,” Smith said. “And 43.5 (seconds), man, I never ran like that.

“And I’ll tell you something else he has that I don’t have, and that’s his cool. I’m the one who acted like I was expecting a baby. Quincy looked like a businessman going off to close a big deal. He could have run with a briefcase.”

Right on, Q!

That is what so many of the U.S. athletes who have befriended Quincy were cheering after he outlegged 1988 gold medalist Steve Lewis to the wire by nearly two full strides. That was the good vibration Quincy picked up from ’88 bronze medalist Danny Everett, who was in too much pain to be out there running himself.

“The way you can tell who’s ready to run a race is to check out their eyes,” Everett said. “I looked into Quincy’s eyes. He was ready .”

Right on, Q!

Quincy had so many fans in the stands, it was like being back home in Inglewood. Even actor Jack Nicholson was a face in the crowd of 64,900, and Michael Douglas, too. Personal friends wore the same shirt as his father’s, the one that bore the inspirational message: We Believe in You, Quincy. Bring Home the Gold. The foot-high “Q” was a replica of the logo from the “Quincy” TV series, starring Jack Klugman as a coroner, not a metric quarter-miler.

Part of his heart remained in Michigan, where the naughty kid who played the class clown and terrorized the neighbors’ cat turned out to be a handful for a Hamtramck woman who was holding down two jobs. The Motor City was part of what made Quincy run like a dream, and always wouldbe.

But it was the Golden State that became his permanent address, and when a young man with a gold necklace flapping in the Barcelona breeze finally stood still long enough for some additional gold jewelry to be bestowed upon him on the victory stand, someone asked his coach, John Smith, which city the runner called home--Los Angeles or Woodland Hills or Inglewood or where?

“All L.A. is Watts today,” Smith said.