When I first came up to Wolfson a few years ago, the once-proud Boat Club was tinkering along happily oblivious to success. The men were content to rely on old boys and the odd talented novice to make things come together at the last moment. The women regularly turned out some of the worst crews on the river and didn't care - after winning Henley in 1989 and 1990, the women's supercrew had graduated and no one had come to replace it. It was time for change. Finally, along came people like Mary New and Lars Wulf and their devoted followers who were determined to make an effort and a difference. I don't care what level people are at or how serious they want to be. But at any given level and amount of commitment, the right attitude goes a long way. Not everybody can row at the highest level, nor does everybody even want to row at that level. That's fine by me. But within any given level, time must be spent efficiently, and the right determination can produce results.
What is most important about the current strength of the Boat Club is not just that Wolfson crews have been winning this year. It is that there are lots and lots of people involved, that an infrastructure is in place which can now produce winners at all levels in future years. This is something the women's supercrew of 1989 and 1990 did not leave. Their back-to-back Henley titles - though a phenomenal accomplishment and source of pride to this day at Wolfson - will forever be tarnished by the knowledge that the Boat Club they left behind when they graduated was worse off than it had been when they arrived.
Rowing is about participation, the more the merrier. There is room for everybody in Wolfson College Boat Club, from the serious athlete to the casual sunny-Summer-afternoon paddler. Many of these casual paddlers catch the bug and become the serious rowers (witness this year's Captain of Boats, Karen Sidwell). Many don't catch the bug and just fill out the lower crews and the social events. All have a place here. The membership of the Boat Club is now larger than it has been since the late 1980s. Long may it continue to grow.
Zoe Smith first gave me the title of "guru" last year. This term for me may or may not be appropriate. I have been fortunate to be at Wolfson during its rowing rennaisance. In my years in the sport - as cox, rower, coach, administrator, you name it - I have never been so privileged as to have been involved with the Wolfson women, seeing them go all the way from raw novice to ARA Senior Two status in under one year and to spread the enthusiasm I had tried to give them onto the next generation of women and on to the men as well. I'd like to think my presence had something to do with this, but they did all the hard work.
When I think of "gurus," I think of the people who have given me my understanding of the sport, and I know I simply cannot compare myself to them. Arthur Gilcreast, long-time coach at Phillips Exeter Academy, taught me a lot - not about the specifics of rowing, of which he is a master but I was too young and clueless to appreciate, but about the greater concepts. Charlie Butt, the Harvard Lightweight Coach, who has quickly become a living legend, has served as the model for my coaching. And Ian Wilson, President of Nottinghamshire County RA, is such a formidable figure that anyone who comes into contact with him - and I spent time with NCRA - cannot fail to be influenced by his no-nonsense style. With men like these out there, I am merely glad if I can have any influence at all on anyone.
Colors are important. When a crew paints its blades and dons its racing shirts, it represents something, a single fighting unit. What the institution or boat club is called is immaterial. The crew is representing itself. Dangerous is the crew which takes itself seriously.
When I was an undergrad, once I slipped on my racing shirt in the locker room before the race, I meant business. I sat in the boat and looked out at the oars. There were our colors, this was our crew, this was our race to win. At the finish, per American collegiate tradition, the other crews pulled their boats into ours and took their shirts off their backs and handed them across. The shirts were stained with the blood and sweat of the vanquished, but when they had put them on before the race they had felt prepared to do battle and had given us their best shot. We shook hands and chatted. I remember one devastated Princeton cox telling me to treat his shirt with respect. As I respected him for putting in the hard work just to be on that line with us, I respect his shirt to this day. Conversely, the couple of times in my career when I had to give up my shirt were traumatic events which still cause me to shake angrily at myself - we had left a part of ourselves in someone else's hands.
One of the first things I insisted on when the women became good last year was that they dress the part and not continue with the recent trend of cheapo t-shirts with silly slogans on the back to use as racing shirts. The old Wolfson zephyrs made their reappearance after several years of hibernation. The zephyrs then caught on this year with the resurgent men, first with the novices and then with the first eight.
Now that Wolfson raced in serious clothing, it came time to do something about the Boat Club's colors. Wolfson is blessed (or cursed) with scarlet and gold as college colors. For that reason, Wolfson kit has recently been blue. I have been insistent that the Boat Club switch back to its proper colors. While the red hats seem to be popular, I'm not so sure the same can be said for the scarlet and gold splashtops I designed as a prototype this year. As for the women's lycra all-in-ones - scarlet with gold stripes - I like them even if the women will be cursing me for years to come. As a going-away present, the women's squad has given me my very own lycra - I guess it just didn't seem fair that I never got to wear what I so proudly designed. Thanks, guys!
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