Dwight Stones, High Jumper

JULY 2, 1984

It's because man just isn't supposed to bend that way that Dick Fosbury is a genius and Dwight Stones recently hasn't been allowed to lift more than 25 pounds. The torque of the hips, the arch of the spine and the awkward tumble into the pit take a toll on a high jumper's back, particularly after the zillionth repetition. "After years and years of jumping," says the 46-year-old Stones, who underwent lower back surgery last April, "I had a herniated disk for a long time that I didn't even know about."

Between jumping 4'11�" to win the Glendale ( Calif.) City Class F championship at age 13 in 1967 to missing the finals at the '88 U.S. Olympic Trials, Stones set 10 world records, won 19 U.S. titles and made three Olympic teams, including one at age 30 in '84, when he cleared 7'8" at the trials to set his 13th American record. The expected yearlong recovery from surgery has kept him from returning to the world masters high jumping circuit, on which he set a world record (since broken) in '95, and has limited him to appearances at Orange County, Calif., house sales and on track and field broadcasts. Stones and his wife, Lynda, who reside in Irvine and have two kids, Jason, 17, and Jessica, 15, work as independent real estate agents. Stones has donned a network blazer for every Olympics and world championships since '84, and just finished webcasting live more than 425 events at the Paralympics in Sydney. "I'm still making a living off the fact that I was a great athlete," he says.

Stones's favorite sport has always been the mouth run. He cemented his reputation for rousing rabble at the 1976 Olympics in Montreal, where he criticized the Olympic Village ("stinks"), the track ("dangerous") and the organizers ("rude"). Wearing an I LOVE FRENCH CANADIANS T-shirt between jumps, he blew kisses at the unadoring fans and earned his second and final Olympic bronze medal. Two years later he broke the IAAF's shamateurism rules by giving the $33,633 second-place prize from a Superstars competition to his one-man track club. After serving 18 months of a lifetime ban, he agreed to give the money to the AAU, which reinstated him. His struggles sparked frenzied debate about athletes' compensation and sped up the easing of restrictions on playing for pay. "It was going to happen, but I made it happen earlier," Stones says. "That was satisfying."

His athletic career may not be over. Stones hopes to again high-jump or to complete an Ironman triathlon before he's 50, though for now he's restricted to light running. Doing things he probably shouldn't, he'll be right in his element.