THE OARSMAN'S A.E.F.

BY HERBERT REED

AMSTERDAM is this year the American oarsman's ultimate objective, where there is fair reason to believe that an eight from these shores will repeat the Navy's success at Brussels in 1920, and Yale's remarkable triumph at Paris in 1924. None of the glamour of the New London and Poughkeepsie regattas will depart, this best of all probable seasons so far in the history of what I consider the purest of amateur sports-simply that an Olympic triumph would crown a season that will certainly mark another year of steady progress in coaching methods admittedly more open-eyed than ever in the past. We have achieved in our eightoared rowing what amounts to a reasonably standard style, and a remarkable evenness of material among the rowing colleges, with victory going almost without exception to that eight which displays the greatest racing finesse, the finest generalship.

And judging by the prospects as they loom up at this writing, there will be need of the very finest product the United States can turn out, to be reasonably sure of victory, for the famous "Joe" Wright has returned to Canada to coach what promises to be the greatest Argonaut eight of at least a decade, probably stroked by his son, who as a single sculler missed the Diamond Trophy last year only through bad steering; and there is prospect, too, of a standard Leander crew from England in the light of the remarkable power and form of this year's Cambridge crew. In fact, the Cantab boatload intact probably would prove all that any challenger would care to handle. The English are more than keen, moreover, to regain their lost prestige, mindful of the fact that a remarkable boatload of the famous "pink caps" was literally raced to a standstill at Brussels, while it remained for the University of Toronto to give the Elis a race four years ago, after the Englishmen had made a disappointing showing.

The situation is all the more interesting this year, since, as

happens at infrequent intervals, the colleges have shaken the coaching kaleidoscope once more. Thus we find Russell Callow, famous as the successor of "Ed" Leader at the University of Washington, taking charge at the University of Pennsylvania, where Wright the Canadian was remarkably successful as a Henley distance and two-mile coach, but whence has not been forthcoming a first class four-mile eight in many a long lean year. It remains to be seen whether "Rusty" can do any better than did "Joe"; but that situation may be left for the time while the rest of the shifting is considered.

Most important of all, perhaps, is the change at Annapolis, whither Glendon Senior has been recalled after a brief absence in which he helped his son at Columbia, to such effect that under the colors of the Morningside institution the East came back to "head the river" at Poughkeepsie. Here is a father vs. son affair that will absorb the two sets of critics-one which maintains that Columbia's victory at Poughkeepsie last year was due less to the work of "Dick" the younger than to “Dick” the elder, the other maintaining that all the glory should go to the younger man. I confess that I am of the latter school. In any event both the Navy Glendon and the Columbia Glendon are vastly to be reckoned with. "Ed" Leader continues in the launch's coaching well at Yale, "Ed" Brown at Harvard (his second year in charge of the 'Varsity), and so on down the line. In action this season, a fair proportion with Olympic tryout aspirations will be the following record list of 'Varsity eights: Yale, Harvard, Princeton, Pennsylvania, Columbia, Cornell, Navy (with probably a Navy graduate eight), Syracuse, Massachusetts "Tech", Wisconsin, Washington and California.

Incidentally, right here, I am going to let out a secret. Rowing will be carefully watched this season by Army men, for the proposal to establish rowing and racing, even though confined to short distances and home waters, is being favorably entertained at West Point. A fine, sheltered course is at hand, and the whole question is reduced to one of time and costs. That is just a little aside for the benefit of Army enthusiasts.

Here pops another little secret out of the bag. There is better than an even chance that should Princeton, whose eight came

through so splendidly last year under the coaching of "Chuck Logg, show as much promise by the time of the Olympic tryouts, it will be backed all the way to Amsterdam if it wins the racing right to go there.

Proud of the triumph scored at Brussels, the Navy is not yet satisfied, for a reason that dates back to the Olympic try-outs on the Schuylkill four years ago. Nothing has ever been said about it in public before, to my knowledge, but I think it can be told now without stirring up any hard feeling. The three dangerous crews that year were Yale, the Navy 'Varsity, and the Navy graduates. The race was won by Yale in a terrific finish by three or four feet from the Navy graduates. It so happened that the crews were held for a long time at the start with a head wind blowing, quartering toward the Navy crews across the referee's launch. It is contended that fumes from this launch sickened the Navy oarsmen before they started. There has never been any complaint from the Navy people on this point, but it is pretty well understood among the Schuylkill oarsmen that something of this sort did happen. So every effort will be made this year to make even such a rumor impossible.

The two four-mile races may or may not give an exact idea of just what eights will enter the Olympic try-outs on the Schuylkill. The winners in all probability, the runners-up possibly. The Princeton decision, of course, can be made much earlier. But as the date of the Poughkeepsie regatta was set with a view to subsequent Olympic preparation, it is more than likely that at least one crew from each regatta will be seen at Philadelphia. The appearance of a club crew among the eights is problematical.

As this is written, the final make-up of all the eights is thoroughly in the air, and there has been a series of unfortunate accidents and illnesses that have forced several coaches, notably both the Glendons, to develop new men rapidly in order to fill the places of veterans. Columbia's championship eight may not remain intact, more's the pity, since the oarsmen have been nursing Olympic aspirations for close to two years. In the case of the Navy, it will be very difficult to replace the mighty Bagdanovitch should he fail to recover from an injury in time to make the crew. It will be remembered that the loss of the Navy

No. 7 on the eve of the Poughkeepsie regatta a year ago undoubtedly ruined the Annapolis chances. Few but those thoroughly versed in eight-oared rowing realize the importance of the "second stroke oar". He is the vital factor in every race, and must pass on the stroke on his side of the boat flawlessly in order to get the proper effect of the "engine room or, as some call it, the "power plant", made up of Stroke and Seven.

But while this matter of personnel is still on the knees of the gods, there is no mistaking the fact that American eight-oared rowing in the colleges has steadily tended toward the development of bigger and more powerful eights. It is seldom nowadays that the winner at Poughkeepsie or New London will average less than 177 pounds. And, oddly enough, the Poughkeepsie four-mile record was established by an eight averaging about 165 pounds. The reason for that probably lay in the fact that not only was that crew one of exceptional power per pound, but in addition at that time Courtney's system of rowing was so far advanced as to give Cornell crews a great advantage in the run of the ship between strokes. It was rarely possible in those days to row stroke for stroke with the Ithacans and keep abreast. Cornell won many races rowing from 34 clear down to 30 to the minute. Today that is impossible. It is axiomatic today that a crew to have a chance at Poughkeepsie must be able to row the body of the race not lower than 33, and be able to put on two long-sustained spurts, let us say the first half mile and the last full mile, at 38 to 40 to the minute. To do that requires great power. Such a crew, rowing in the Olympics, if hard pressed, would be able to stay above 37 all the way, and travel at least a half mile as high as 42. I have seen three or four of our crews hit as high as 44 without losing much length in the water. To the old time oarsman this may sound incredible, but there is ample proof of it annually.

After considerable research, I think I have discovered the origin of the old saying that "a 195-pound man cannot pull his own weight". It goes back to the early 'nineties when Heffelfinger was a great football player at Yale. He rowed on the crew at something above 195 pounds and the crew lost. However, just about that time or a little later the theory was amply disproved

in England by the famous Leander oarsman, R. B. EtheringtonSmith, who rowed at close to 200.

"Jim" Ten Eyck at Syracuse has often boated finished oarsmen well above the 190-pound mark, including one stroke oar. Last year certain of the critics looked askance at Harvard's huge eight with at least two men weighing above 200 lbs. One of them was Forrester Clark, who is just now playing gorgeous polo at the incredible weight of 210. So these big men have upset the tradition in more than one sport.

The Harvard heavy weights were pulling not only more than their own weight but some of that of the stroke, a rather slight young man named "Jack" Watts. "Ed" Brown, the coach, wanted Watts's brains rather than another man's power, at stroke, so he whittled down his oar, and about all Watts had to do was use his head and set the cadence.

In cases where these big men have been condemned, it was generally found that they had been "underboated", that is, the shell could not carry them without "sousing" its nose at every stroke, whereas the lines of the raceboat should be such as to stick its stem out and up at the very beginning of the recovery after each stroke.

Now it was the elder Glendon who was among the first to turn out giant eights. Therefore he went in for giant equipment, and even today uses the longest sweeps, with the widest and longest blades of all of the coaches. The croakers in those days were numerous. I confess that I was among them. It was all very well, we felt, for a big husky crew to handle sweeps twelve feet four inches long with blades seven and a quarter inches wide, over a two-mile course. "Why, four miles will kill them!" chortled the chorus. The laugh, as it turned out, was with Glendon. And his son followed in his footsteps both at Annapolis and subsequently at Columbia. Of course the outriggers were so set as to provide tremendous leverage. It was always noticeable that when the Navy blades gripped the water they were “anchored", that is, the boat moved before the blades did.

Presently other giant crews made their appearance from Lake Washington, and that appearance had a marked effect on Eastern rowing. In general it may be said that Eastern crews had