They nearly amputated her feet once. She went on to win sprint golds in two Olympics. Little wonder that Gail Devers declined to classify yesterday among either the best of times or the worst of times. It was just another day in the life. For the rest of us it was a story delivered prematurely. We had gathered, in part, to see Gail Devers win gold again, this time in her favourite event, the 100 metres hurdles, in which, in one of sport's little ironies, she had never won before. She was the raging hot favourite, then she blew up in the semi-final, skipping out with a hamstring pull and clobbering into the fifth hurdle.

The lack of a hurdle medal for the woman with two straight 100 sprint golds had become something of an obsession. This was to have been Devers' year. Her best rival, Ludmilla Engquist of Sweden, had vanished, requiring surgery. Devers had posted the best time of the year. What could go wrong?

Devers blamed God.

"God has a plan for me. It wasn't meant to be for me back in 1988. It wasn't meant to be for me now. That's why you don't see me up here crying. If I weather the storm, he will pour out so many blessings."

She's had lots to cry about down the years, lots to thank her maker for. Cursed and blessed.

Laid low with Graves' disease, a thyroid condition that causes skin to peel, her hair to fall out, and her feet to become swollen and bloody, it seemed unlikely that she would ever walk again. She was on the brink of having both feet amputated when she turned a corner. That was 1988. She'd been eliminated in the semi-finals of the 100 hurdles at Seoul. Within weeks her skin was burning, she had nausea, migraine headaches and weight trouble.

Four years later she went to Barcelona almost paralysed by fear of relapse. At the semi-final stage of the 100 metres, she screamed to her coach Bob Kersee that she couldn't feel the starting blocks beneath her feet. She had experienced severe shaking the night before. She went on to win the final in an unforgettable five-woman, photo-finish. Her last-second lunge won the race by one-hundredth of a second.

Asked what does winning the gold medal mean to you, she replied: "It means that my Graves' disease is over."

"I'm God's child," she said yesterday, "sometimes it's somebody else's turn to shine. Some days it's been mine."

Struck low by injury, at her fourth (she refuses to concede, final) Olympics, she handled it all with some panache. She strapped a glacier worth of ice on to her left thigh, got into a silver track suit, and walked into the press conference area with her partner, Kenny Harrison. Still a queen (Gail, that is).

Was she bothered by all the allegations surrounding the Americans?

"Look, I'm Gail. I've been looking after myself. Only thing I watch on TV here is The Jetsons and The Flintstones, 'cos that's as near as I can get to I Love Lucy."

She was pressed, asked if she thought pulling out would have the effect of adding her name to the long list of those under suspicion. She responded with an admonition.

"You guys emphasise the wrong things. I can pee for you all now if you want me to. That's not the point. You can't infer one thing to the next thing just like that. If you want to go see my MRI result, well then let's go get it. I think the question is out of place."

There were times when Devers couldn't look at herself in the mirror. Her skin blotched, her eyes bulged, her hair grew only in patches. Early in her condition, she attempted to continue training by wearing five pairs of socks. Her bleeding feet became so swollen that she needed scissors to free herself from the socks each evening.

She's 33 now, running faster than ever. She refuses to contemplate retirement.

"Why are you guys always pushing me out the door," she said in tones of mock hurt. "I'll only use the `R' word once and not yet. I've only had one coach, Bob Kersee. I'll have to see if he wants to go on. Now, I'm having fun. I said in 1988 I wanted a gold in the hurdles. I still do."

She'll have to dethrone Olga Shishigina first. The Kazakhstan athlete recovered from a two-year drug ban (1996-98) to win yesterday's final. Second was Nigerian Glory Alozie, the ascending queen of the event, who lost her fiancee in a road accident here in Sydney two weeks ago. We came to see Devers win gold. We funnelled into the press room to see her say goodbye. Neither happened. The 100 metres hurdles will always be a story, though.