The 2012 installment of New York City's famed Milrose Games, being the first outside of Madison Square Garden since 1913, had an overall peculiar feel to them. The meet and its illustrious history had been transferred 130 blocks uptown to The Armory, yet the recreation of that good old fashioned Milrose ambiance proved difficult. Instead of the standard wonky, character building, and undersized track surrounding the covered hardwood of MSG (where the San Antonio Spurs bested the New York Knicks in 5 games during the 1999 NBA Finals), a state of the art Mondo oval provided the stage for the evening's races. The packed Garden was substituted for an under capacity Armory, a venue better suited for a midsized high school prom. The Garden, located in the heart of Midtown, played host to the smells you come to associate with a Real Big Sporting Event: nachos, beer, perspiration of fandom that can only come from the packing of passionate bodies into close corridors; The Armory, situated at 168^th street in Manhattan's Washington Heights neighborhood, was perfumed by the aroma of cigarette smoke, wafting in through the cracked windows, courtesy of the smoking folks waiting for admission into the homeless shelter that shares a building with the esteemed indoor track.

The transition was enough to bring tears to the eyes of even the most hardened, or senile, Metropolitan track aficionado. New Yorkers born and raised on once-yearly MSG track action were -in the opinion of many- forced to settle for an inferior product. What about the fans?! What about tradition?! All hope seemed lost. Until it was time for the marquee event of the night: the Men's Wanamaker Mile. The crowd, which had collectively been lulled asleep by an extreme sense of disappointment, snapped into an unprecedented sense of alertness. Over the course of the field's introductions, the dull roar evolved into a frenzied, blood-curdling screech, climaxing with the announcer's reading of Matt Centrowitz's lengthy resumé. Tears of ecstasy were shed upon the revealing of his NYC connection (his father was born and raised in Inwood), and the last tidbit of Centro-related wisdom sent several fans into rabid fits, practically foaming at the mouth: “World Championship 1500m Bronze Medalist.”

Centrowitz looked smooth, in control, and dominate the entire race, holding off a charging Miles Batty for the win in a new Armory record of 3:53.92. Not a soul in attendance -unless that soul was a total downer or stick in the mood- doubted that Matt. Jr. would best the impressive field. After all, he's a bronze medalist on the world stage! However, since his Wanamaker victory in February, Centrowiz, arguably America's most promising young miler, has seen a somewhat of a dearth of big time results. He placed a not-quite-up-to-snuff 7^th at the IAAF Indoor World Championships in the 1500. This outdoor season he boasts a best mark of 3:37.22, although it was run in Canada.

A year ago, a fly on the wall at an unusual corporate office in which track was a hot topic of conversation would have heard confident mumblings around the water cooler insisting that Centro would be a threat for an Olympic medal in London. Today, the banter at that same hypothetical business might sound a bit more defeatist, laced with uncertainty. The topic at hand is no longer “will he medal?” It's “will he make the team?” Admittedly, Vin Lananna and his young charge have not likely shown their full hand. The unlikely pairing very well may have some tricks left up their proverbial sleeve. But they may have to reach deep into their bag of goodies to fend off the charges being made by other American milers. All the regulars are threats (Manzano, Wheating, Brown), plus a new contingent of late-comers (Jeff See, David Torrence, Robby Andrews), and a slew of collegians (Kyle Merber, Miles Batty, Riley Masters, etc.). Perhaps Centrowitz will advance easily through rounds, and secure a spot on his first Olympic team, but entering the Trials without a truly eye-ball-popping outdoor performance, he does not look like the boyish, unstoppable force he was a year ago.