By Laura Williamson
The man sitting next to me on a luxurious, L-shaped cream sofa at his open-plan home in Pretoria, South Africa, is a sprinter. He is a man who has now met the qualifying ‘A’ standard to run in the 400 metres at the Olympic Games in London and will also go for four gold medals at the Paralympic Games.But Oscar Pistorius is also a double amputee. He was born without a fibula, the bone that connects the knee to the ankle. This sprinter’s legs end just below his knees.
In the day-and-a-half Sportsmail photographer Andy Hooper and I spent with Pistorius in and around Pretoria, we tried to find out what makes this sprinter tick. What is the Blade Runner like away from the track?
Pistorius now sits on a pile of logs at a game reserve near his home, gently stroking a nine-week-old white tiger called Orion. He is not the slightest bit nervous, yet shows the cub the utmost respect.
Pistorius is equally at ease with Anthony the cheetah, looking the animal in the eye as they crouch on a dirt track under the setting African sun.
They are both the fastest in their respective fields but Pistorius’s obvious discomfort with his running legs, known as cheetah blades, is startling compared to the regal, fluid way the animal glides around.
When Pistorius is not running he is constantly shifting his weight from left to right, trying desperately to avoid the abrasions that cause painful blistering and disrupt his training regime. ‘It’s an occupational hazard,’ he says, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Most sprinters get sores.’
He wanted a king cheetah of his own, but had to settle for two white tigers: a female called Vesta and a male, Valcan. He kept the cats, which cost around £30,000 each, at the game reserve and played with them every few days, until they got too big and he became too busy.
‘They were beautiful animals,’ he said. ‘They’ve got a couple of breeding programmes in South Africa for all types of big cats. It was more of a love for the animals than anything else, but I’m just not here enough to appreciate them.
‘I think everybody who grows up here has got some sort of love for animals and for nature. We grew up with a lot of animals at our house. We always had dogs, goats, guinea fowl and horses.’
Pistorius doesn’t really like riding horses, but he has had stakes in five race horses; animals he says he finds intriguing.
‘They’re just unbelievable animals,’ he says. ‘I’ve had about 20 wins between them over the last two-and-a-half years, but I’m more intrigued by the race horses.
‘They just love it. You see a race horse and it gets to the day before a race and you see how excited they get. It’s quite special.’
Pistorius has dogs, too - Enzo, a black-and-white bull terrier and Silo, a light-brown American pit bull. He explains Silo was a rescue dog, who was locked in a room only two metres by three metres until she was three-and-a-half months old. She had a broken back and is still nervous, even after Pistorius’s care and attention.
Enzo, however, is just mad. As he jumps around outside by the pool Pistorius elects to tell me: ‘The last journalist who came here, he ripped their toe nail off. There was blood everywhere.’ Somehow I don’t think he’s joking.
Pistorius drives his big black BMW through Pretoria’s leafy, well-heeled suburbs like a racing-car driver.
Beneath the over-sized sunglasses he smiles with satisfaction as he hears the engine momentarily eclipse the upbeat dance tunes when he pushes his foot to the floor. The good-looking, 25-year-old driver, a man recently voted South Africa’s best-dressed by GQ magazine, attracts admiring glances when we pause in the heavy commuter traffic.
This car is still quick and impressive, but it is the safe option for Pistorius, designed to protect him in the event of a crash. An adrenaline junkie by nature, he insists he has given up ‘all that stuff’ to pursue his dream of competing at the Olympics.
The walls of his home are adorned with signed boxing memorabilia and a painting of James Dean, the rebel without a cause. Pistorius’s double garage is littered with kit - skis, snowboards, boxing gloves and bicycles - but they remain unused, for now at least.
He has sold 11 motorcycles - ‘superbikes, race bikes, I had loads of different bikes’ - over the past two years to focus on this sport he fell into almost by accident, when a knee injury stopped him playing rugby at boarding school and he began athletics ‘as a form of rehabilitation’
The man sitting next to me on a luxurious, L-shaped cream sofa at his open-plan home in Pretoria, South Africa, is a sprinter. He is a man who has now met the qualifying ‘A’ standard to run in the 400 metres at the Olympic Games in London and will also go for four gold medals at the Paralympic Games.But Oscar Pistorius is also a double amputee. He was born without a fibula, the bone that connects the knee to the ankle. This sprinter’s legs end just below his knees.
In the day-and-a-half Sportsmail photographer Andy Hooper and I spent with Pistorius in and around Pretoria, we tried to find out what makes this sprinter tick. What is the Blade Runner like away from the track?
Walking on the wild side: Pistorius squares up to Anthony the cheetah
Pistorius is equally at ease with Anthony the cheetah, looking the animal in the eye as they crouch on a dirt track under the setting African sun.
They are both the fastest in their respective fields but Pistorius’s obvious discomfort with his running legs, known as cheetah blades, is startling compared to the regal, fluid way the animal glides around.
When Pistorius is not running he is constantly shifting his weight from left to right, trying desperately to avoid the abrasions that cause painful blistering and disrupt his training regime. ‘It’s an occupational hazard,’ he says, shrugging his shoulders. ‘Most sprinters get sores.’
He wanted a king cheetah of his own, but had to settle for two white tigers: a female called Vesta and a male, Valcan. He kept the cats, which cost around £30,000 each, at the game reserve and played with them every few days, until they got too big and he became too busy.
‘They were beautiful animals,’ he said. ‘They’ve got a couple of breeding programmes in South Africa for all types of big cats. It was more of a love for the animals than anything else, but I’m just not here enough to appreciate them.
‘I think everybody who grows up here has got some sort of love for animals and for nature. We grew up with a lot of animals at our house. We always had dogs, goats, guinea fowl and horses.’
It's a dog's life: Pistorius at his house in Pretoria with his dogs Enzo (right) and Silo (left)
‘They’re just unbelievable animals,’ he says. ‘I’ve had about 20 wins between them over the last two-and-a-half years, but I’m more intrigued by the race horses.
‘They just love it. You see a race horse and it gets to the day before a race and you see how excited they get. It’s quite special.’
Pistorius has dogs, too - Enzo, a black-and-white bull terrier and Silo, a light-brown American pit bull. He explains Silo was a rescue dog, who was locked in a room only two metres by three metres until she was three-and-a-half months old. She had a broken back and is still nervous, even after Pistorius’s care and attention.
Enzo, however, is just mad. As he jumps around outside by the pool Pistorius elects to tell me: ‘The last journalist who came here, he ripped their toe nail off. There was blood everywhere.’ Somehow I don’t think he’s joking.
Pistorius drives his big black BMW through Pretoria’s leafy, well-heeled suburbs like a racing-car driver.
Beneath the over-sized sunglasses he smiles with satisfaction as he hears the engine momentarily eclipse the upbeat dance tunes when he pushes his foot to the floor. The good-looking, 25-year-old driver, a man recently voted South Africa’s best-dressed by GQ magazine, attracts admiring glances when we pause in the heavy commuter traffic.
Blade runner: Pistorius competes at the World Championships in Daegu last year
The walls of his home are adorned with signed boxing memorabilia and a painting of James Dean, the rebel without a cause. Pistorius’s double garage is littered with kit - skis, snowboards, boxing gloves and bicycles - but they remain unused, for now at least.
He has sold 11 motorcycles - ‘superbikes, race bikes, I had loads of different bikes’ - over the past two years to focus on this sport he fell into almost by accident, when a knee injury stopped him playing rugby at boarding school and he began athletics ‘as a form of rehabilitation’
Hakuna maoni:
Chapisha Maoni