was a little pastry chef, standing only 5ft 3in (much smaller than his statue), who was entered for the marathon in the 1908 Games. Nobody outside of Italy had ever heard of him, but he broke away from the field and entered the stadium (the White City) well ahead of his rivals.

The crowd cheered the tiny figure, taking him to their hearts. But then the cheers died away. Something terrible was happening. Exhausted and dehydrated, Pietri collapsed. He struggled to his feet, ran on and fell again. This happened four times.

It was agonising, and too much for some at the trackside, among them the writer Arthur Conan Doyle, covering the Games for a London newspaper. Three or four rushed forward and helped the little Italian across the finishing line. He had won after all, a triumph for the human spirit.

Or had he? Unfortunately not. The US team lodged an objection, the judges upheld it, and the gold medal went to the American Johnny Hayes, who had finished second but crossed the line without assistance.

The decision was correct, but it was Pietri who was the hero of the day, and Queen Alexandra recognised this by presenting him with a silver cup which will be on display in Modena this summer.

When one thinks of it, the Italian response is not so surprising. Italy is the country of the Madonna as well as the Mafia, and Italians can be as tender-hearted and sentimental as anyone. Besides, now as in 1908, it is a land in need of a hero, and the little pastry chef, as his biographer puts it, "gave pride to generations of poor Italians". Viva Pietri, the most gallant of losers!