Only the grand finale, the reappearance of the first weary runner, is perhaps worth the price of a ticket. The first runner was not even weary. Kitei Son of Japan came jogging into the stadium as fresh as a daisy.
In the midst of all the gaiety, black despair settled on the generally vociferous German crowd.

A fast runner dropped the baton as it was being passed and the Germans had to drop out of the race. The Führer who was watching in his customary box, slapped his thigh in frustration. The girls proved they were after all, genuine women and not just feminine athletes by having hysterics on the field. With tears rolling down their cheeks there were taken up to Hitler's box, where he consoled them as best he could, assuring them he knew they would have won.
Apart from the question of whether they would have won, which can be disputed, they had the crowd with them. A bond of human sympathy with the four young people who had experienced the most atrocious bad luck united the more than 100,000 in attendance.