MAURICE BURTON’S
9 life lessons from Britain’s first Black cycling champion
In 1974 Maurice Burton won the national 20km title, becoming Britain’s first ever Black cycling champion. Yet, as the 18-year-old stepped onto the podium, the crowd booed – a response that typified the racism he experienced throughout his career. After being overlooked for Olympic selection, despite having beaten those selected, he moved to Belgium to race professionally on the six-day circuit, becoming the first Black six-day rider for over 75 years.
In his recently published biography, cowritten with me, Burton set out to assert his place as a change-maker and pioneer in British sporting history. In writing the book together, Burton and I met many times over the course of a year, in pubs, at his bike shop De Ver Cycles, and on bike rides. This feature, drawing on our conversations, lays out Burton’s nine key life lessons from his rich and varied experience as the first Black British cycling champion, sixday star and later as a successful business owner and community leader in South London.
1 YOU CAN’T BE WHAT YOU CAN’T SEE
I knew about Herne Hill, but I didn’t k now how to get in. There was no information for people like me; there were no Black people doing it. Unless you knew someone, you didn’t k now. I was lucky: my school took me to Herne Hill. The VC Londres coach Bill Dodds told us how it worked. One thing stood out: he said, “ From here, you can go to the Olympic Games.” I knew at that moment that that was where I wanted to be.
2 CERTAIN RIDERS ARE A CLASS APART
I was sprinting at Paddington in 1973 with Steve Heffernan; one of us was going to win. Suddenly, somebody ripped past us, and we both thought, who the hell was that? It was Danny Clark, Olympic silver medallist who became a six-day legend. I met a guy recently who was in the same race; he said Danny asked if he could get through but he didn’t hear him. The next thing he heard was Danny shout, “For f***’s sake, mate, will you get out of the f***ing way!” and he came past like a motorbike.
3 DETERMINATION IS EVERYTHING
W hen I stood on the podium in Leicester to receive my jersey as national champion in 1974, boos rang out around the velodrome. They didn’t like the colour of my skin. In 1975, I won gold in the team pursuit and silver in the Madison.
I was 19 years old, winning my third title. I crashed out in the scratch, but then they disqualified me, claiming I pulled Heffernan off his bike, which I didn’t. It was typical of how I was treated and it kept happening. I won’t give up on anything. It’s determination, a
