PADDY RYAN - OLYMPIC HAMMER THROW CHAMPION

by David Guiney and Bill Dooley

“Paddy” Ryan, born on 4 January 1887 in Pallasgreen, County Limerick, Ireland, won

his first Irish hammer title in 1902 when, as a virtual novice, he beat the great Tom Kiely for

the championship. In 1910, Ryan emigrated to America and, after placing third in the hammer

at the 1911 AAU meet, improved to take second place in 1912 before taking his first AAU

title in 1913. Apart from 1918, when he was in France with the American Expeditionary

Forces, he then won the hammer title up to 1921, when he retired.

Ryan was not eligible to represent the U.S. at the 1912 Olympics, but the following

year, at the 1913 Eccentric Fireman’s Games (17 August 1913) he set the first official IAAF

world record with a throw of 57.77 metres (189’6½”), which was to remain a world record

for more than 25 years and was not beaten as a U.S. record until 1953.

Ryan, in his hey-day, was endowed with a magnificent frame, his build, from the

knees up, depicting a strength in every line and course while, in addition to this, he was gifted

with a pair of small and shapely feet which would do credit to a ballet dancer - a rare

combination.

In 1920, Paddy Ryan won the Olympic title by the widest margin on record, beating

Carl Lindh of Sweden by almost 4½ metres (14½ feet). At the time of the Antwerp

Olympics, he was 37 years old and his 1.91 metres (6’3”) was carrying a great deal of

excess avoirdupois, his weight being somewhere in the region of 18-19 stone (115-120 kg.

[250-265 lbs.]).

Imbibing rather freely of French and Belgian wines the night before the hammer throw,

he greeted Lawson Robertson, the American coach, who called him on the morning of the

great day with the rather discouraging remark . . . “I’m dying.”

The one and only Lawson knew that if he could get Paddy to the Stadium, the latter

would do the rest and with certain admonitions, sent him on his way. But Paddy needed a

helping of “Irish” or “Scotch” to counteract the effects of the weaker vintages and made for

the first available saloon in which he and another member of the American team tarried a little

longer than they had first intended.

In a last-minute rush for the Stadium Ryan halted a lorry in the streets of Antwerp and

sitting in the tail with his legs dangling out, drove in state to the scene of action. Arriving

there, Paddy discovered he had forgotten his shoes and sent his comrade to the dressing room

for the loan of a pair with good spikes in the heels.

Those were forthcoming and Paddy marched on the ground where a few flags were

already fluttering in the breeze to denote the distances attained by the other aspirants for the

hammer crown, in the early rounds.

Paddy’s next request was one of the most extraordinary. . . “Young fellow . . . would

you mind standing a few yards beyond the best mark. I want to use you as a target for I can’t

see those flags.”

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Of note, Ryan did not participate at the Inter-Allied Games of 1919 which were an international sporting contest

among members of the expeditionary forces which had fought in Europe during World War I.

Ryan was always known as “Paddy” and never “Pat.”

His closest friend in Antwerp was John B. Kelly Paddy was always a beer or Guinness drinker. I remember he said once to me, “I wouldn’t wash my feet in Scotch whiskey.”

Ryan wore a pair of baggy trousers and a cap, too small for him, hung at a rakish angle

and in this quaint garb, his appearance was described as positively mountainous.

cap aside and slipping the suspenders

Throwing the he laid hold of the hammer and forced his living

target to duck with a throw of over 173’ (to be precise 52.875 metres, or 173’5¾”) which

won him the Olympic gold medal.

Ryan also competed in the 56-lb. weight throw at the 1920 Olympics, in which he

finished second to Pat McDonald. While in New York, Ryan worked as a labor foreman, but

in 1924 he returned to Eire to take over the family farm and remained there until his death on

13 February 1964 in County Limerick.

(Extracted from an article on Paddy Ryan by the late Bill Dooley, probably written in

the late 1930s or early 1940s, with notes provided by Dave Guiney. Supplemented with

biographical notes from Quest for Gold: The Encyclopaedia of American Olympians, Bill

Mallon and Ian Buchanan [New York, Leisure, 1984])

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Pictures of Paddy Ryan at Antwerp show him in U.S. singlet and shorts (admittedly “baggy” ones) and there is

no trace of suspenders.

In my own interviews with Paddy about Antwerp in 1920, his major story was always about how he managed to

get Tom Nicolson (British), an old friend, into the final six in the hammer final. Nicolson had arrived late

for the preliminaries and Paddy staged a minor ‘revolt” to get Tom included in the final six without

qualifying.