When I met Pistorius: the young man taking on the world

Nearly six years ago I sat on the grass at the Pretoria University training ground in South Africa talking to Oscar Pistorius about his plans the future and how far he had come already.

At the time he was only just becoming known internationally. He was 21 then. A good-looking young man with a drive beyond that of most people.

Already he was a world record holder for the 100m, 200m and 400m and he had won gold at the 2004 Paralympics. But he was setting his sights higher.

Those around him described him as the sort of person who right for the beginning had run full tilt at life.

He wanted to be allowed to compete in the Olympics. He did not see himself as disabled and he did not understand why the world – or, more importantly the international athletic bodies – should see him as such.

Those around him described him as the sort of person who right for the beginning had run full-tilt at life. He chatted to me about how his parents had brought him up to believe he could do anything he wanted. That losing both legs below the knee at the age of one was not going to hold him back.

And that day, in the late afternoon sunshine, you could believe it. He was confident and happy. Driven to prove the international athletic community wrong.

He was adamant, too, that those now famous blades – cheetahs – did not give him an unfair advantage.

When we had finished talking, he put the blades on and stood up. And then he ran. Round the track. Fast. It was a deeply impressive sight, with the blades strangely beautiful. Nothing about him seemed disabled at that moment.

He was not the most eloquent of young men. In subsequent interviews he has seemed better able to express himself, but when we met he was not yet used to the attention of the world’s media.

We walked together back to his car. The few people who passed by greeting him. His then girlfriend was waiting in her car and they made and arrangement to meet later. At that moment he turned back into a normal young man, planning his weekend night out.

But he was, even then, far from ordinary.

And to watch him being taken from his house following the tragic shooting of his girlfriend, his head bowed, his jacket hood up, was like looking at an imposter. Someone other than that person I had talked to who was right then preparing to take on the world.

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