Wearing the same plain, center-parted ponytail and flashing the same wholesome, toothy smile that became her trademarks in the days when she was known as the Flying Antelope and the Asian Meteor, Chi Cheng (紀政) strides into her office bursting with energy. Only today she is not dressed in track sweats. She wears a gray silk dress and heels, and carries an overstuffed date book. "Sorry I'm late," she says. "I was on my way to the airport when I remembered the interview!"
Answering questions between a steady stream of phone calls and visitors—including her secretary, who is anxious to make sure she catches an afternoon flight to Hualien—Chi speaks in a rush of words. Her voice is surprisingly girlish coming from the tall, powerful body. Perhaps the ROC's best known female athlete, the three-time Olympian still holds track records she set more than twenty years ago. She holds the Asian record for the fastest women's 100-meter race (11.22 seconds), set in 1970; she held the record for the fastest women's 200 meter event in Asia (22.62 seconds) until last May; and her world records in the 100-yard and 220-yard races (10 seconds and 22.2 seconds) will last forever since these events are no longer run.
From her first taste of publicity at age fifteen, when she won first place in the high jump, 80-meter low hurdles, and pentathlon in the 1959 Taiwan Area Games, Chi quickly became a local hero. In 1960, she represented the ROC at Olympic Games, then left for the United States to continue training under a government scholarship. She competed in the 1964 and 1968 Olympics, winning a bronze medal in the women's 80-meter hurdles in the latter, and captured gold medals in the women's long jump and the 100-meter events at the 1966 and 1970 Asian games, respectively. Though her running career came to an early end when she fractured a leg in the 1970 Asian Games, she has remained a central figure in ROC track and field throughout the past three decades.
After three years as women's athletic director at the University of Redlands in California, she returned to Taiwan in 1977 to work with local athletes. She spent eleven years as secretary-general of the ROC Track and Field Association, during which she simultaneously served as a Congresswoman for nine years. In 1989, she was made president of the association, a position Chi describes as "overseeing everything to do with track in Taiwan," from developing primary school PE curriculum, to organizing public fun runs, to overseeing the training of the national track team.
During more than thirty years of running, coaching, and administrating athletics in Taiwan, Chi has witnessed incredible changes in the state of local sports. "When I was competing in the 1960s, there was a very, very limited budget for sports," she says. The ROC took part in few international competitions other than the Olympics and the Asian games. Aside from a few wealthy local business people who sponsored teams, much of the funding for sports came from overseas Chinese.
With limited athletic facilities avail able at home, Chi's only choice was to train overseas. When she headed to the United States at age nineteen, there were few ROC athletes competing internationally. "When I was running, you never saw people from Taiwan go to Europe or the States to compete," she says. "I was the only one at that time. I became the bridge between Taiwan and the U.S. and Europe."
In the 1970s, athletics received a sudden boost due to so-called "ping pong diplomacy." Sports became a matter of politics as the ROC and mainland China each began vying to be the exclusive representative of China at international competitions. "When the mainland started to show interest in returning to the international sports family, the government became worried," Chi says. "All of a sudden, we realized if we don't do any thing, we'll lose our position in the world."
During the late 1970s and early 1980s, ROC athletes suffered as political squabbling grew more intense. The "two China" conflict surfaced in the 1968 Olympics, Chi remembers. It was "in full gear" by 1972, and reached a head in 1976 when the team was barred from competing in the Montreal Olympics under the ROC flag. "We were there, the team was standing outside the front door, but we could not go in," says Chi, who had led the track team to the Games. "When that happened, the government really paid attention."
When the ROC athletes returned to Taiwan without competing, the highly publicized event actually speeded the development of local sports, Chi believes. "If your team presents itself well, it gets international attention," she says. "You can see that the countries that place an importance on sports, such as South Korea, really gain a lot—not just in the athletic realm, but in world trade, in international recognition. Sports is not just a game, it's a tool. When the officials started to realize that, the whole thing changed and they became more willing to put money into sports." Taiwan stayed home during the 1980 Olympics, but solved the name problem in time for the 1984 games by agreeing to compete as Chinese Taipei. The ROC has competed in every Olympics and Asian Games since.
During the 1980s, according to Chi, government funding for athletics increased but not enough to match the rising population and growing demand from sports teams. "The government has given sports more money, but at the same time, more and more sports federations have been established," she says. "Although the pie got bigger, there were more people eating it."
Still, the facilities have improved substantially at Taiwan's two competition level training centers, the sixteen-year-old Tsoying Sports Training Center located in Kaohsiung county, and the two-year-old National Institute of Sports and Physical Education just south of Taipei in Linkou. The Tsoying complex began as a military camp, Chi remembers. "When I first went there, it was a barracks. It was very simple and very hot. Now the building is completely different. It's big, and it has air conditioning. The facilities, the housing, even the equipment is very modem."
But Taiwan's training facilities are still not on par with sports facilities overseas. "For track and field, I would not say that the facilities here are totally up to international standards," Chi says. Although equipped with the latest competition apparatus, the centers still lack the necessary supplemental equipment for training. "For example if you are a shot-putter, the equipment here is only the standard 12-pound and 8-pound weights. For training, you also need very light weights and very heavy weights. But other than competition equipment, we don't have it. This is not right for a training center." Chi believes the oversight stems from a lack of professional coaches. "It's not because we don't have money but because the people don't have enough knowledge about correct equipment."
Lack of qualified coaches is one of the biggest problems facing Taiwan sports. Though knowledge of international coaching methods is growing, many coaches still lack adequate training. Until three years ago, there was no licensing program for coaches. Though the new certification program is a step in the right direction, Chi warns that too much emphasis is still placed on general sports information. "There is not enough training in individual sports," she says. "This is really wrong. What is right for basket ball is not right for track." She is pushing the various local sports associations to incorporate the training methods devised by the international sports federations.
In addition, working conditions must be improved if Taiwan is to raise the quality of its coaches. ''The pay is low, the pressure is high, and there is no job security," Chi says. School coaches make around US$800 per month and are hired on a contract basis, while teachers are hired into permanent positions. "We are losing quite a lot because when trained coaches find an opportunity to be a PE teacher, they prefer to do that."
Would Chi recommend that young athletes go abroad to train, as she did nearly thirty years ago? "Very much so," she says. Taiwan's collegiate sports system is still relatively undeveloped. "The U.S. has a good league system for competitions. But U.S. colleges have huge budgets for sports. We don't." She points to National Taiwan Normal University as an example. "The sports department budget is only enough for each team to compete in the national intercollegiate championships held each May, plus one additional meet. That means a total of two meets," sighs Chi. "If you want to take part in other competitions, you have to raise your own money. Therefore, the opportunity to compete is actually open to very few athletes."
"Looking at the U.S., we have a long way to go," Chi says. She advises young, talented athletes to apply to colleges in the United States. Both the athletic training and academic programs offer more opportunities. "Over there, you get a good education. You don't have to major in PE, you can major in anything. There are better training facilities, better competition, better coaches. There are a lot of betters."
What will it take to bring ROC sports to a world-class level? Chi believes it will be local athletes that spur the development of athletics. "The officials and the people already know the importance of sports and the role that sports can play; they look at sports in the mainland, Japan, and South Korea," she says. But to really build local sports, Taiwan athletes must give the public something to get excited about. "The way to win support is to do great things, to show our best—and to show that we are not competing for selfish reasons, but for the good of everyone, the good of Taiwan."