A PAIR of pristine running shoes lying in a rubbish bin, in a tunnel just off the track, provided graphic evidence of one of the great mishaps in, Olympic history in Atlanta in the early hours of yesterday morning.

Minutes earlier, Linford Christie's defence of the 100 metres championship had ended in heartbreak when the rewards of four years of sweat and toil were still-born in two false starts.

Now, after a disputed disqualification and a delayed departure from the start-line, he ripped off his singlet and in a fit of pique, and threw away the shoes in which he aspired to make history.

But before disappearing down the tunnel and into the arms of another controversy, he stayed around long enough to see Donovan Bailey, a naturalised Canadian from Jamaica, enthrall the watching millions by bolting down the straight for a new world record of 9.84 seconds.

Immediately behind him, Frankie Fredericks and Ato Boldon provided the real drama to one of the most memorable Olympic finals by finishing in 9.89 and 9.90 seconds respectively, the fastest ever for the minor placings.

In terms of drama, there has been nothing quite like it a compelling story-line which played on our emotions to the point where we identified totally with the agonies of the eight men settling uneasily on the blocks.

Christie, wracked by selfdoubt all summer, it seemed was ready to risk everything in the hope that a lightning start would compensate for the younger, more supple legs of his rivals over the last 30 metres.

Throughout his career, his discipline on the start line has been exemplary. Yesterday, in a desperate attempt to keep his dominion intact, he gambled on rising at precisely the same moment as the starter pulled the trigger and was recalled after breaking a fraction prematurely.

By the time he got back to the blocks, he was portraying every day of his 36 years. Gone was the chilling stare which had intimidated so many over the years in its place, the telltale signs of a man who suspected that his comeuppance was merely seconds away.

Around him, the remainder of the cast fidgeted nervously: Boldon, with tinted glasses which bespoke the fashions of a different generation, was as ever unmistakably arrogant; Dennis Mitchell, looking vaguely demented as he talked incessantly to himself, portrayed the image of a man about to go over the top and on the inside lane. fellow American Michael Marsh checked and re-checked his laces.

Only Fredericks looked composed. Unmoved by the masses of muscle on either side of him, the Namibian kept his composure even after they were recalled yet again, this time because of Boldon's impetuosity.

Then, it was crisis time. With with the tension expanding by the second, Christie's nerve broke for a second time. On this occasion, sadly, there was no reprieve and after being red-carded by the track referee, he left grudgingly to rue the consequences of a gamble that had gone disastrously wrong.

All the while, Bailey, who only applied himself seriously to sprinting four years ago, stood glowering down the track. At Gothenburg 12 months ago, he had overcome a bad start to win the world title. Last away, he was still only in fourth place at halfway, but then, one by one, he picked off his opponents. Mitchell was caught and passed at 60 metres, Fredericks reined in immediately afterwards and, finally, Boldon was overtaken just 15 metres out.

After punching the air in triumph with the announcement that Olympic gold had come with the handsome bonus of a world record, the new champion circled the track on a rapturous lap of honour.

Eight years ago, Ben Johnson, another naturalised Canadian, embarked on the same journey at Seoul. Disgrace was only a matter of days away for Johnson but now, we hope, the trappings of success will stay with Bailey for much longer.

Inevitably, there were references to the infamous Seoul incident when he met the press later, but he met them head on.

"I'm not here to undo what Ben did merely to prove that I deserve to be respected as a champion," he said. "And I like to think that I made my point.

"In each of my three previous rounds, I relaxed through the early stages and accelerated at 70 metres. I figured on taking the same plan into the final and it worked.

"No, I didn't set out to make a world record. Any time I did that, screwed up. Today, I just ran for gold and, happily, the record can with it."

Boldon, who complained bitterly about Christie's behaviour in refusing to leave the track after being told to do so, said: "I shouldn't have allowed it to upset me but I did. But while I'm disappointed. It's still nice to have a silver medal."

Christie, whose reaction time of 0.86 seconds for his second start, was only 14 hundreds of a second quicker than the permitted limit, was still emphatic yesterday that he should have been hallowed to stay in the race. But he insisted that he had no regrets in declining to lay it safe.

"Once you've had a false start, there are two things you can do," he said. "You can either sit back and die like a sucker or go out there and give everything. It was all or nothing and I felt I would rather die out there with them."

On the possibility of retirement, he said: "There is not a hope in hell that I'll quit - no chance. I aim to bounce back like a big rubber ball and run in the world championships in Athens next summer.

"Just now, I'm feeling pretty rotten, but I can't go round moping. As captain, I have responsibilities to the other members of the British team and, besides, I still have the 200 metres to occupy me".