Born in Jamaica in 1960, Linford Christie is a former sprinter and athletics coach. He spent his childhood near Kingston, before moving to west London aged seven. During the late 1980s and 90s, Christie became the UK’s most celebrated athlete; the only British man to win successive golds at the Olympic Games, World Championships, European Championships and Commonwealth Games. Retiring in 1997, Christie devoted his time to his sports management company, Nuff Respect. He lives in Buckinghamshire with his partner and two of his children; his son Kian, and his eldest daughter, Briannah, who is in her final year studying law. The documentary Linford is on iPlayer.
Linford
This photo was taken at the back of a school in Cape Town, South Africa, when I was shooting a commercial for Kellogg’s. In between takes, we were playing around. Briannah was a handful – very bubbly, always running around. She would have been about two at the time, but I didn’t let her win!
My daughter and I are like twins. We are both Aries, and we go everywhere together. When she was a baby I’d wear dungarees and put her in the top so I could walk around with her looking up at my face. The love a daughter has for her father is second to none.
Briannah had a lot of hair like me when she was born – we used to call her “hair bear”. She was also born with gastroschisis; a condition where her intestines were on the outside her body. She was in an incubator and had surgery to recreate her belly button. I was never worried she wouldn’t make it. I just wanted to get her home.
All the athletic training in the world could not have prepared me for parenthood. There was no rest! One time I came home from training and I was tired, lying on the floor. Briannah climbed up on the sofa, jumped off and landed on me. She scared the life out of me. She was rapid too, always moving. Our kitchen had sharp corners, but Briannah could negotiate it. I thought she would become an athlete, but it’s a curse having a dad who’s as good as I was. She felt she’d get compared to me. I tried to tell her she wouldn’t, but she didn’t want to follow in my footsteps.
The discipline I’d gained from athletics was useful when it came to fatherhood. When her mum was getting up to feed, I’d get up to feed her mum. We worked as a team, but we did probably spoil Briannah. She’s still spoilt. When she was a teenager, she’d say to me: “Dad I’m not afraid of you, all I’ve got to do is bat my eyelids and I can get what I want!”
I was probably spoiled as a boy too. I loved my childhood. I lived in Jamaica with my grandmother because my parents came to the UK – my mother was a nurse and my father had various jobs. My grandmother was the greatest; my hero. She was quiet, calm. I went to church, played sports and stayed healthy. I was the youngest in the family, so I was always competing with my older sisters.
When I lived in London, I went to school in White City. One day my art teacher, Mr Wright, was looking out of the window and saw me run across the playground. He called me over and said: “You look like you are really quick.” Even at the age of 64 – and even as a coach myself – I still cannot comprehend how he saw this skinny eight-year-old momentarily running and thought he could do it professionally.
Doing athletics all the time, you have to think about yourself in order to improve, but becoming a dad stopped me being selfish. It didn’t stop me wanting to work hard though – everything I did had more of a purpose. When I got home after a long day of training she would be asleep, and because I’d want to play with her, I would go and poke her. Her mum would ask: “Why is Briannah suddenly awake?” I’d reply: “I haven’t done anything!”
It’s a shame Briannah didn’t want to become an athlete, but really I don’t care what she does, as long as she has a good education and is a nice person. Which she very much is. I don’t want her to give up on anything. I sacrificed everything to be a success. I can’t dance – I’ve got two left feet because I didn’t socialise. I was running all the time; trying to make a career.
The epitome of coolness is when your kids want to hang out with you. Considering Briannah is in her 20s and still living at home, I feel as if I have achieved that goal. I love having her around; we still have fun. I might have gone upwards and outwards, physically speaking – but she definitely hasn’t changed. Neither has how much I love being her dad.
Briannah
This photo depicts our relationship perfectly. Dad was always active in my life. Not in the sporty way, but really involved in whatever I was doing. If I had friends over, he would be chasing us around the garden. To this day, my best friend comes over to see him more than she does me!
Dad and I are very close, but our favourite pastime is to debate. We argue about everything: social issues, political topics. We are a bit fiery and get heated, but we always end up laughing. He’s a very emotional man – it would surprise people to know what a soft teddy bear he is day-to-day.
He is the king of dad jokes too. The same gags get recycled, but it makes him laugh, even if he’s said it a million times. Dad is the chef of the house – if he’s cooking chicken, there will be a three-minute song he’s made up about cooking chicken. He’s the tidiest too, he likes things to be perfect; everything he wears has to be ironed, he won’t wear crushed clothes. I’m not so tidy. I’m not much of a cook either. I’m an eater instead.
When I was little, there would be parent races at sports day. Even if he really didn’t want to take part he had to as all the other parents would try to get him to. Of course he always won!
By the time I was born, his sporting career was dwindling so I never saw him race. It’s only recently I’ve been watching tapes of him. It’s so inspiring, but I would have loved to have been there at the height of it all. It wasn’t until I was at secondary school that I realised he was famous. People always knew who he was when we went out, and there were times when he would do appearances at school. There was such a fuss around him, but I liked that. School was sometimes boring, so it was exciting to have him there.
Dad is always on the other end of the phone when I need something. I’m just finishing my law degree, and while it’s been tough, Dad made it easier. I struggled trying to support myself through it mentally, and he never let me feel I was alone.
If I was to go back in time, would I like to go down the same route as him? I’ve realised too late, but I would have loved to have been an athlete. I’m not sure if I could have done it to his level though. I inherited a lot from Dad, but I’ve got one thing he hasn’t – the lazy gene.
