‘… If you hear the herald with attention, you see that he announces the closure of the
games and the prize awards at the end...’ (Philostratos, Gymnastikos 7.12)
24. PRIZE-GIVING CEREMONIES AND BETS
IN THE ANCIENT EQUESTRIAN GAMES
The highest achievement, greatest honor and dearest dream of athletes, who
compete at the Olympics is to win a medal or, if possible, two. In the ancient Olympia
there were no gold, silver or bronze medals for winners in the gymnika or hippika
contests, only a crown-shaped olive branch for the head of the victorious athlete or
owner. Those who took second and third places received no tributes, and their names
weren't even recorded in the Elean archives which were scrupulously kept by the
Nomophylakes. In the entire history of the Olympics there were only two exceptions and
they have both been described in previous Chapters. Namely, there was the Athenian
Alkiviades who came first, second and fourth in the teleion tethrippon race of the 91st
Olympia (416 BCE) and Alexander I, who was judged ‘equal-first’ in the stadion andron
at the 80th Olympia (460 BCE), placed ex equo to Torymbas of Thessaly.
Greek horsemen or mule drivers were acquainted with stress and pressure.
Although they competed as individuals, they represented families, communities, cities
and citadels. In every event they carried the heavy burden of economic and emotional
investment, and were ready to give their last ounce of energy for Zeus, family, tribe, city
and state. Participation was not enough -- victory was what mattered. Pindar (518-443
BCE) noted that victory was the greatest height to which mortals could aspire and wrote
of defeated men who, in their shame, tried to return home unnoticed.
In Homeric times, men sometimes competed in athletic contests for which there
was no material reward. They were called “athletai without athla”. But at the funeral of
Patroklos Achilles set a unique precedent by awarding valuable prizes, e.g. cauldrons
and tripods, horses, mules, cattle, well-girded women, and iron. Even the 4th prize for the
chariot race was two talents of gold, and the 5th (awarded to Nestor for judging) was a
two-handed kylix. By contrast, prizes for winners at the gymnika were less remarkable.
In boxing, the rewards were a six-year-old mule and a bowl; in wrestling, a tripod worth
twelve oxen and a girl worth four oxen. In running, a silver crater, an ox and half a talent.
In the Iliad Agamemnon offered Achilles a dozen prime horses, boasting that ‘a man who
possessed...these horses ...would be rich in…gold’. Most Hellenes would have agreed
with Homer's sentiments, expressed in the Odyssey:
‘There is no greater fame for a man than that which he wins
with his footwork or the skills of his hands.’
Horse racing remains the sport of kings and it has always belonged to the
wealthy, before and after Homer's days. In early times, there was a strong tradition that
valuable prizes ought to be offered to victors in the Pythia (founded in 589 BCE). Later,
the policy was changed at all festivals and only the symbolic laurel, celery, pine or olive
wreaths were awarded. The Olympics may have been ‘money games’ at first but by the
5th century BCE the big four periodoi (Olympia, Pythia, Isthmia and Nemea) awarded
only the symbolic wreaths mentioned above. In the early days however, there were
many festivals (perhaps over 40) where valuable prizes continued to be offered. We
know this from Pindar and many other ancient sources.
1
Then, of course, there were the wagers. The first instance of a bet being placed
in the context of horse racing and the inevitable disputes that went with it is delightfully
described in the Iliad (23. 473-98):
‘ΤΟΝ Δ’ΑΙΣΧΡΩΣ ΕΝΕΝΙΠΕΝ ΟΙΛΗΟΣ ΤΑΧΥΣ ΑΙΑΣ / ’ΙΔΟΜΕΝΕΥ, ΤΙ ΠΑΡΟΣ ΛΑΒΡΕΥΕΑΙ; ΑΙ
Δ’ ΕΤ’ ΑΝΕΥΘΕΝ / ΙΠΠΟΙ ΑΕΡΣΙΠΟΔΕΣ ΠΟΛΕΟΣ ΠΕΔΙΟΙΟ ΔΙΕΝΤΑΙ. / ΟΥΤΕ ΝΕΩΤΑΤΟΣ ΕΣΣΙ
ΜΕΤ’ ΑΡΓΙΕΟΙΣΙ ΤΟΣΟΥΤΟΝ / ΟΥΤΕ ΤΙ ΟΞΥΤΑΤΟΝ ΚΕΦΑΛΗΣ ΕΚ ΔΕΡΚΕΤΑΙ ΟΣΣΕ. / ΑΛΛ’
ΑΙΕΙ ΜΥΘΟΙΣ ΛΑΒΡΕΥΕΑΙ. ΟΥΔΕ ΤΙ ΣΕ ΧΡΗ / ΛΑΒΡΑΓΟΡΗΝ ΕΜΕΝΑΙ. ΠΑΡΑ ΓΑΡ ΚΑΙ
ΑΜΕΙΝΟΝΕΣ ΑΛΛΟΙ. / ΙΠΠΟΙ Δ’ΑΥΤΑΙ ΕΑΣΙ ΠAΡΟΙΤΕΡΑΙ, ΑΙ ΤΟ ΠΑΡΟΣ ΠΕΡ / ΕΥΜΗΛΟΥ, ΕΝ
Δ’ΑΥΤΟΣ ΕΧΩΝ ΕΥΛΗΡΑ ΒΕΒΗΚΕ.’/ ΤΟΝ ΔΕ ΧΟΛΩΣΑΜΕΝΟΝ ΚΡΗΤΩΝ ΑΓΟΣ ΑΝΤΙΟΝ
ΗΥΔΑ. / ‘ΑΙΑΝ, ΝΕΙΚΟΣ ΑΡΙΣΤΕ, ΚΑΚΟΦΡΑΔΕΣ, ΑΛΛΑ ΤΕ ΠΑΝΤΑ / ΔΕΥΕΑΙ ΑΡΓΕΙΩΝ, ΟΤΙ
ΤΟΙ ΝΟΟΣ ΕΣΤΙΝ ΑΠΗΝΗΣ. / ΔΕΥΡΟ ΝΥΝ, Η ΤΡΙΠΟΔΟΣ ΠΕΡΙΔΩΜΕΘΟΝ ΗΕ ΛΕΒΗΤΟΣ,/
ΙΣΤΟΡΑ Δ’ ΑΤΡΕΙΔΗΝ ΑΓΑΜΕΜΝΟΝΑ ΘΕΙΟΜΕΝ ΑΜΦΩ,’ ΟΠΠΟΤΕΡΑΙ ΠΡΟΣΘ’ ΙΠΠΟΙ, ΙΝΑ
ΓΝΩΗΣ ΑΠΟΤΙΝΩΝ.’ / ΩΣ ΕΦΑΤ’ ΟΡΝΥΤΟ Δ’ ΑΥΤΙΚ’ ΟΙΛΗΟΣ ΤΑΧΥΣ ΑΙΑΣ / ΧΩΟΜΕΝΟΣ
ΧΑΛΕΠΟΙΣΙΝ ΑΜΕΙΨΑΣΘΑΙ ΕΠΕΕΣΣΙΝ, /.. ΚΑΙ ΝΥ ΚΕ ΔΗ...ΕΡΙΣ ΓΕΝΕΤ’ ΑΜΦΟΤΕΡΟΙΣΙΝ, / ΕΙ
ΜΗ ΑΧΙΛΛΕΥΣ ΑΥΤΟΣ ΑΝΙΣΤΑΤΟ ΚΑΙ ΦΑΤΟ ΜΥΘΟΝ. / ‘ΜΗΚΕΤΙ ΝΥΝ ΧΑΛΕΠΟΙΣΙΝ
ΑΜΕΙΒΕΣΘΟΝ ΕΠΕΕΣΣΙΝ, / ΑΙΑΝ ΙΔΟΜΕΝΕΥ ΤΕ, ΚΑΚΟΙΣ, ΕΠΕΙ ΟΥΔΕ ΕΟΙΚΕ.’
Since the original passage is long and difficult, I shall attempt a free translation of
its main points. On the homeward stretch the speeding chariots pass momentarily out of
sight of the crowd. When they come into view again, still a long way off, Idomeneus the
Cretan and Aias, son of the Argive Oileus, argue as to who is in the lead. Idomeneus
says it's Diomedes of Argos; Aias retorts that he is half-blind and that Eumelos is clearly
ahead. After a heated exchange of insults, Idomeneus asks him if he is ready to bet a
tripod or a cauldron on who will win, nominating Agamemnon as their referee. They are
about to come to blows when Achilles steps in. He orders both to stop ‘behaving like
children’ and instead watch the race quietly since they will soon know its outcome.
Anyone who has ever stood in a crowd watching horse races has witnessed such
scenes re-enacted hundreds of times. But let's leave bets and quarrels and return to the
principle of prize giving. We have mentioned the symbolism of wreaths of the classical
era, and their great importance at the Olympics. The elaia kallistefanos tree, from which
the famous wreaths were made, is itself a very intriguing subject. First, no record of its
use was made until the 7th Olympia of 752 BCE. Second, prior to 752, a modest apple or
a tripod was offered to the victor of the only athlon held, namely the dromos. Iphitos was
the first known Hellanodikes to offer an olive wreath to Daekles of Messenia, who won
the stadion andron. The Elean king had no difficulty determining who should receive the
kotinos in that race since no other athlete had competed.
Circumstances obliged King Iphitos to choose the olive wreath. He sought the
help of the Delphic oracle through the medium of its priestess Pythia to resolve the
pressing problems of civil war and epidemics which beset Greece at the time (Pausanias
5.4.6: Iphitos, because Greece was then suffering from civil wars and infectious disease,
asked for advice the Delphic god to absolve the evil).
Without delay, Pythia advised the king and his subjects to reinstate the Olympics
and refrain from ‘offering fruits of the earth, and search for the wild olive tree decked in
gossamer webs.’ Delphic oracles always offered enigmatic advice; cobwebs were
understood by the Hellenes to signify rain and so were related to fertility. King Iphitos
rushed back to Olympia, found the elaia kallistefanos, and promptly built a fence around
it. According to Aristoteles, a great observer of nature's fauna and flora, this particular
olive tree was exceptional. For one thing, its leaves grew in a symmetrical pattern like
those of the myrtle. Unlike the leaves of other olive trees, kallistefanos leaves were pale
green on the upper side but unlike the leaves of common olive trees, not on the lower
side.
2
The Elian boy chosen to get the kotinos was allowed to cut only one branch of
the elaia so that only the wreaths required to crown the heads of first-place winners in
the events could be made. It is interesting to note that Elian citizens and their king were
dedicated ecologists - if they had made wreaths for second or third placed athletes they
would have had to cut additional branches, perhaps putting the sacred tree in danger.
Scholars are uncertain as to the exact time and place of victors’ coronation.
Evidence lacks concerning the two different ceremonies held at two different stages of
the Olympics. According to one account, victors were crowned immediately after winning
the contest, just like today, but this assumption is not supported by the evidence. While it
may have been the practice in the early Olympia (for example in the case of Pagondas
of Thebai, victor of the teleion tethrippon at the 25th Olympia), but it took a very long time
for the ritual of crowning victors instantly to become the custom, as indicated by the
following story of Pausanias, about the 218th Olympia of 93 CE (5.21.12):
‘Apollonios, a boxer whose nickname was Rantis (as was the custom in Alexandria)
arrived late at Olympia. He rushed in the Palaistra to fight Herakleides but discovered, to
his dismay, that he had already been disqualified. He watched with disgust as the head
of his opponent was adorned with a wreath from the hands of two irresponsible judges.
The enraged Rantis then put on his boxing thongs and proceeded to a vicious attack on
Herakleides who, still bearing the kotinos, ran to the Helleanodikai for shelter’
Other than humiliating Apollonios for being a bad looser, Pausanias' old story
provides valuable information on the timing of the coronation ceremony, which, in this
case, must have been held immediately after the event. Yet I am not convinced that this
could have been the case in at least nine other Olympiads where women emerged as
winners. As seen in Chapter 6, women were not allowed access to Olympia during the
‘active’ four days of the festival. Despite that, exceptional ladies saw their charioteers
win equestrian contests over a period of more than six centuries. Since these female
owners had to be crowned for their teams’ victories, the only way this could have been
done would have been by holding the award ceremony at the end of the festival.
In the alternative version, victors at hippic contests were crowned at a special
ceremony after the festival, in front of the statue of Zeus. This may not have been the
case in the gymnika, but the peculiarity of horse contests would have allowed for their
being treated exceptionally. It must be stressed that the kotinos never adorned the
heads of victorious jockeys, charioteers or mule drivers, who had to be content with
simple wool ribbons around their arms, head and legs (Fig. 24.1). The wreath crowned
the head only of the owner, and the owner could well be a woman.
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Fig 24.1, left: Attic red-figured hydria from an Etruscan tomb, c. 500 BCE. Munich, Staatliche
Antikensammlungen. A victor at a nude contest, probably a boy a head shorter than the old man
in front of him (a judge?) receives his prize. He stands modestly, his head slightly bowed, yet his
eyes shine with joy. The boy is bedecked by spectators and friends, as shown by a wreath
around his neck and red ribbons tied round his arm and leg. In his hands he holds the sprig of
greenery thrown to him by the crowds (phyllobolia). Scholars maintain that the bearded man
cannot be the boy's trainer or the Hellanodikes officiating at the award ceremony because he
would be arriving too late for the ceremony. The emotional tension in his posture as he hastens to
tie a third ribbon round the boy's head and his transparent himation would be inappropriate to the
neutrality expected of a judge. Hence, the bearded man could well be the boy's father. Right, a
Panathenaic amphora found in Eretria in 1969. The ‘Pourtales Painter’, 363-362 BCΕ (the times
of archon Charikleides). National Archaeol. Museum, Athens. Side B depicts five figures, in the
middle of which are two wrestlers. An imposing Nike holds a white ribbon, which she is about to
tie on to the victor. An interesting detail on this amphora (not seen) is the presence of a stand-by
wrestler to the left of the contestants, still naked and watching the bout with interest
Thus, the immediate coronation of equestrian victors on the Altis grounds simply
wasn’t feasible before the end of the festival. As seen in Fig. 24.2, the victorious jockey
(anabates) of a keles flat race is also uncrowned. The wreath is held by a servant, and is
intended for the horse's owner, whether man or woman.
Fig 24.2. Panathenaic amphora from Vulci. The Swing Painter, c. 520-500 BCE. British Museum,
London. The scene depicts a victor in the keles race. In the center is a beautiful robust stallion
walking proudly with its powerful neck and chest, flowing tail and slender head and legs. The
bareback riding youth is dwarfed by the horse's bulk but has a perfect seat and holds the rains in
a straight line. A short tunic reaches his mid-thigh. Ηis toes pointing downwards is the only flaw
but is expected from riders not using stirrups. Behind the horse walks a naked boy (groom or
servant), who raises the victor's wreath in his left hand while carrying a big tripod trophy on his
head. A bearded man clad in long mantle, walks in front. He is perhaps the herald because in
front of him is the inscription ‘Dyneiketos's horse wins’. The wreath is destined to the head of the
horse’s owner, Dyneiketos, and not the young jockey's whose name we may never know
4
In the interim, i.e. from the end of any given contest to the crowning ceremony,
the winning jockeys, charioteers or mule-cart drivers bore some kind of honorable
distinction. This is exemplified by the statue of the Delphic charioteer, and in scenes
depicted on vases, stelai and statues. A red ribbon served as a mark of recognition for
the remainder of the festival. Such recognition was deserved considering the cost in
sweat, blood and tears of achieving victory in the early light of the day. At later Olympics
victors carried palm leaves, and riders seen on coins were waving palms (Fig. 23.3).
Fig. 24.3. A coin celebrating Philip’s victory in the keles teleios race of 356 BCE
There is no clear evidence as to where these palms were stored at the Altis but,
thanks to the keen eye of Pausanias, we know exactly where the kotinos wreaths were
kept. The old writer recorded that the Heraion (the temple of Hera) housed not only the
diskos of Iphitos (on which the ekecheiria was written) but also a very special table.
Purportedly Hippodameia’s ‘play-table’, it was made of gold and ivory by Kolotes, a
sculptor from Herakleia or Paros. On this exquisite table the Eleans displayed all the
wreaths for the duration of each Olympia (Pausanias 5.20.1):
‘…and a table on which the wreaths of the victors are displayed. They [the Eleans] say
that this [table] was Hippodameia's toy. On the diskos of Iphitos was the ekecheiria
declared by the Eleans at the Olympics, written not in straight line but circularly on the
disc. The table is made of gold and ivory, and is made by Kolotes’.
It has been suggested that the same chryselephantine table might have been
carried to and from the judges' stand, or to the temple of Zeus for the prize-giving
ceremony on the last day of the festival. Surely, there was ample space in the Stadion
and the Hippodromos, and more than enough to allow movement around the gigantic
gold and ivory statue of the god-protector of the games, to make possible a most
imposing ceremony.
It feels embarrassing to doubt myths on the amateur status of the athletes in the
ancient Olympics. However, it has been my conviction, based in the absence of the term
‘amateur’ in ancient Greek, that modern conventions such as ‘amateurism’ are so false
and so unrealistic or pretentious, that force me to add more ‘killer’ details. Equestrian
athletes were mostly hired professionals. Classicists who cite a Delphic inscription,
translated as ‘wine cannot be taken into the Stadion’ have assumed that athletes set an
example of total abstinence. This is nonsense. Many historians would agree that a
correct translation of that epigraph is ‘wine cannot be taken out of the Stadion.’
Another famous inscription that has been the subject of debate is the five-ring
emblem, which, it had been claimed, originated at Delphi. More nonsense! When Frau
Riefenstahl filmed the 1936 torch relay from Olympia to Berlin for her documentary
‘Olympia’, a crude stone block inscribed with the five ring symbol, was strategically
placed so that it might be captured by the camera as a runner circled the Stadion at
Delfoi. Years later, authors Lynn and Gray Poole saw the old movie prop, mistook it for
an ancient epigraph, and published their error.
5
Finally, at the Panathenaia as early as the 6th century BCE, victors legitimately
carried off as many as a hundred or more amphoras filled with oil. Clearly, this tradition
was practiced in chariot racing, but boy wrestlers were also awarded three amphoras for
their victories. Adult wrestlers were rewarded much more handsomely, winning up to
sixty oil-filled vases per victory. Given the price of olive oil in the ancient world, athletes
went home considerably richer, having won goods to the value of $200 to $70,000. I
believe this is the last detail, which disproves the notion that the Olympia and other
Greek festivals were ‘amateur’. The hundreds of amphoras won at festivals that keep
surfacing from shipwrecks in the Aegean and other Mediterranean sites, were not empty
at all. They were full of olive oil.
One generation ago the study of ancient contests was focused primarily on the
‘technical’ aspects of how each event was practiced. Namely, how the contestants threw
the diskos, jumped, boxed, wrestled, or rode horses. Influenced by the violent, erotic or
materialistic aspects of contests, and downplaying the abuse or opportunism of game
sponsors, scholars far better than I subscribed to the theory of an ancient idealism,
linking it to notions of who the Hellenes were and why they competed. Using a plethora
of evidence today we are de-mythologizing the ancient events, including the Olympics.
Recent finds at Olympia and elsewhere have forced a new understanding of the athletes’
participation and of the role of spectators and sponsors in the ancient festivals.
Lately, archaeology, art history, epigraphy and the examination of vases, stelai
and frescos have provided important new data. They have led us reconsider and revise
our former understanding of how the athletes trained, worshipped, competed, won, and
celebrated or cheated. We also have new insights on how they were motivated, rewarded and honored. In this quest for the truth we have had help from non-Olympic,
local and limited athletic events, which offered a surprising variety of contests including,
for example, male beauty, dancing in armor, torch racing, and swimming.
We are fortunate to have epigraphic studies, such as the publication of a new
victors' list at the Panathenaia, and records of festivals in Hellenistic and Roman times,
from Alexandria to Aphrodisias. These studies reveal facts about festivals beyond those
at Olympia. Most inscriptions reflect a proliferation of prize-money in contests throughout
the Mediterranean. New games were, of course, modeled on Olympia, but the Olympics
and other Pan-Hellenic games remained the most revered. Finally, inscriptions record
prizes in money, majestic buildings and the patronage of Olympic athletes by such
famous figures as King Herod of Judea and the emperors Nero and Hadrian.
It is debatable whether ‘sport’ as we perceive it is a modern phenomenon or a
continuation of a Greek tradition. Scholars and laymen alike see modern sport as
distinctive in its secularism and zeal for statistical quantification and records. Others,
including myself, view ancient and modern athletics on a continuum reflecting our
enduring Greek heritage. It is irrelevant whether agon is modern or timeless. Athletes
worldwide have understood effort and agony, a derivative of agon, winning and loosing.
Sometimes the media undermine our sense of awe. Often they show us too
much, as was the case of Atlanta where anorexic beauties and anabolic beasts were
shown with equanimity. So now a question remains touching those ancient athletes: who
and how different were they? Today, with the advantage of historical and archaeological
data, checked and rechecked from many interdisciplinary angles, we can approach a
conclusive verdict. Blind idealism should be allowed to fly from the window while
professionalism is let through the door.
The International Olympic Committee has been right to revise its position lately
so as to allow ‘professional’ athletes to compete. Better late than never…
6