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The first five days of the Olympic program were taken up with basketball, cycling, gymnastics, swimming and weightlifting, but it is fair to say they were generally regarded as appetizers for the main course of track and field, starting August 14. There was more interest in the gossip percolating from the Olympic Village than the activity in the Luzhniki Sports Palace. The Herald Tribune ran a story that after watching an impressive workout by Goldine, East German officials were considering adding the 400 metres to Ursula Krüll’s program, because the girls already nominated were unlikely to match the U.S. Wundermädchen. Krüll, the article reported, had rarely run 400 metres, but earlier in the year had dipped under fifty seconds in a relay event, and was eager to challenge Goldine over any distance. Her form suggested it would take world records to beat her over the shorter sprint distances. ‘I shall do what is necessary in my principal events,’ Krüll was reported as saying, ‘and if the team manager decides I would strengthen the 400-metre squad, that’s fine. The main thing is that East German girls should take the medals. I’m not seeking personal acclaim.’ Dryden pictured the hip swivel as she walked away.

The good news from Moscow that week was that a U.S. doctor had been appointed specially to monitor Goldine’s physical state during her five days of competition. The reason officially given was that no girl had attempted the ‘triple’ before, and Goldine was blazing a trail. Pulse-readings, heartbeat, blood count taken regularly through the program would provide a physiological profile certain to assist physicians in advising girls whether to emulate this formidable schedule. Not a hint of the diabetes was leaked. From the pictures appearing daily in the press, Goldine had put back the weight she had lost, and recovered her zest for running.

Dryden, by contrast, showed the strain of a week he wouldn’t care to repeat when he and Melody checked in at Kennedy for Pan Am’s 0810 Moscow flight on August 15. Moscow time is eight hours ahead of New York, so the final edition of the New York Times they bought before embarking carried the first news of the 100-metres heats. ‘GOLDINE QUALIFIES’ ran the headline to the AP Report:

Moscow, Aug. 15 — (AP) Goldine Serafin, victim of the recent kidnap drama in Cleveland, Ohio, reached the Quarter-Final of the Olympic 100 metres by finishing second in her First Round heat in Moscow this morning. The winner, Carol Estrada (Cuba), clocked 11.26 secs, to the U.S. girl’s 11.34. Goldine was not extended in qualifying, but her East German rival, Ursula Krüll, showed outstanding form by taking Heat Three in 10.95 secs, a new Olympic Record. The other U.S. girls, Shelley Wilson and Mary-Lou Devine, came through safely, winning their heats in 11.21 and 11.36 secs respectively.

Higher up the page was an article comparing Moscow’s staging of the Games with Nazi Germany’s propaganda exercise in 1936. If the intention was similar, the techniques of persuasion had altered in forty-four years. Mass demonstrations, salutes and military uniforms were out; the propagandizing was more subtle. These had been billed in the West as the ‘Security Olympics”; in fact, there were fewer restrictions on movement than there had been in Montreal four years before. The emphasis in Moscow was heavily on cost efficiency. Eight billion dollars had been spent by the eleven-man Presidium, but buildings were designed for adaptation: the five twelve-story blocks of the Olympic Village, accommodating 20,000 athletes and officials, would become a housing estate; the Press Center was to be taken over as headquarters of the Novosti Press Agency; and the Olympic Committee Offices would become the new base of the Soviet Journalists’ Union. These would be the last grand-scale Games — the IOC were determined drastically to reduce the number of sports by 1984 — and the Russians had provided an organization equal to the logistics of staging the greatest sports occasion ever. The opening ceremony had set new standards in precision; as the Times man commented, ‘it was the May Day Parade without the missiles — unless I nodded off when they went past.’