Champions Aren’t Built in Luxury

Champions Aren’t Built in Luxury
Coaching Myth: You must have “state-of-the-art” facilities to become a champion.
By Stuart Dempster
It’s a comforting idea. If only we had better tracks. If only we had indoor arenas. If only we had warmer weather. Then — and only then — would champions emerge.
But history tells a different story.

Scotland. Cold. Damp. Fast.
When I was a young athlete in Scotland, something remarkable was happening. Out of a country of just five million people — with no indoor synthetic tracks and winters that seemed to last forever — we were producing some of the fastest sprinters in the world.
At the centre of it all was Allan Wells.
He steadily climbed the world rankings. European Champion. Europa Cup Champion. Commonwealth Games Champion. And then — the big one — Olympic Champion in the 100m.
To a bunch of young Scottish athletes like me, this was electric. Could one of ours really beat all of theirs?
We knew the Americans had indoor facilities/warm climates. We knew the Caribbean and African nations trained in warmth and sunshine. We knew southern Europe didn’t deal with horizontal rain and biting winds.
So why did we dare believe?
Because Allan kept winning.
When he won the European Championships, he was the only athlete not using starting blocks. Then came Olympic gold — only the second Scot ever to achieve it in the sprints. Overnight, he became a national hero.Allan dedicated his win to Eric Liddle the other Scottish sprinter to have won Olympic sprint gold.
I remember the open-top bus parade through Edinburgh. Over 50,000 people packed the city centre. My club had helped organise it with the council — we were in the same club as Allan. To a young athlete, it felt like anything was possible.

Training in the Dark
Here’s the part that matters.
We didn’t have indoor synthetic tracks. Through the long, dark Scottish winters, we trained outdoors. Freezing. Damp. Wind cutting across the track.
I did it too.
One particular night stands out. I felt fatigued. Sore. It was bitterly cold and miserable. Worse still, I was alone — doing a hurdles session while my training partners (non-hurdlers at the time) trained elsewhere.
As I walked toward Meadowbank Stadium — the old Commonwealth Games venue — I saw Allan Wells warming up.
If it was good enough for him, it was good enough for me.
My fatigue vanished. I trained like a demon.
That was the culture. No luxury. No climate control. No sports science labs on every corner.Auld claes and tatties as we say!
Just tough sessions in tough conditions.
And yet — we kept producing top sprinters from the cool, damp southeast of Scotland.

So What Did We Have?
We had:
A handful of quality, educated coaches running structured, specific programs and demanded standards
A thriving professional athletics scene with handicapped races
Weekly time trials — also handicapped — with coaches collaborating
Attics and garages converted into makeshift training spaces
Squads doing speedball wherever space allowed
No state-of-the-art facilities.
But we had something far more important:
Technical coaching
Structured programming
Competitive opportunities
Motivated athletes
Coaches willing to work together

The Technique First Philosophy
Years later, when I began coaching, I was mentored by Allan Wells’ coach Charlie Affleck and Chick Young. Their philosophy was clear:
Technique first. Competition later.
That philosophy isn’t unique to Scotland.
In The Talent Code, Daniel Coyle visits a Russian tennis “hotbed” that produced multiple Grand Slam champions. The lead coach would not allow players to compete for up to three years — until their technique was properly formed.
Three years. No competition.
Why? Because foundations matter more than facilities.

The Real State of the Art
The truth is this:
Champions are not built in luxury.
They are built in environments where:
Coaching is strong
Technique is prioritised
Athletes are resilient
Standards are high
Culture is collaborative
State-of-the-art facilities are wonderful tools. But they are not prerequisites.
In fact, there’s an argument that something powerful is forged in spartan facilities and harsh conditions — resilience, toughness, and intrinsic motivation.
Scotland didn’t produce sprint champions because of cutting-edge infrastructure.
We produced them because of quality coaching, structured systems, and athletes who were prepared to train in the rain.
And that, in my experience, is still what builds champions today