Throughout the early 80’s we in Britain set the pace

(And unashamedly I was a fan)

As weekly records fell in that iconic 4-lap race

To the troika that was Ovett, Coe and Cram.

 

The one ran with pure arrogance, the second of these had

A running style that simply seemed to flow;

The third, the pride of Sunderland, a loose, ungainly lad;

There was no match for Ovett, Cram or Coe.

 

On tracks from Moscow to Koblenz, from Zurich to L.A.

They’d stalk the field like wolves behind a lamb;

If one was beat another won so always, come what may

The gold would hang round Ovett, Coe or Cram.

 

John Walker, Wessinghage  and Steve Scott all failed the test

For no-one else could break this status quo

As, standing on the podium, a cut above the rest

“The Queen” would play for Ovett, Cram or Coe.

 

At 1500 or 800 metres or the mile

These three monopolised the track’s Grand Slam

With World, Olympic, European titles won with style

By any one of Ovett, Coe or Cram.

 

We have not seen their equal since they truly were the best

At least until a little guy called Mo

But as for strength in depth, no doubt, we truly were well blessed

When Britain fielded Ovett, Cram and Coe.