Basketball and Rowing

In Books by Brock Bourgase

Rowing – as chronicled in books like The Amateurs and The Eight – is a peculiar sport. Only a select few have a chance for glory every four years at the Olympics, a few more experience successful international careers, some compete at the collegiate level in the spring yet many toil year-round in complete obscurity. Workouts on the water, in the tank, on the erg machine or on the stadium steps have been described “pain” and “hell” yet they are completed nonetheless.

In the midst of a mediocre 2008 campaign, the Harvard Men’s Varsity Eight falls short at the Eastern Sprints and the National Championship. For self-actualization, or perhaps the pride of an institution that maintains traditions over the course of centuries rather than decades, the rowers persevere so they can salvage the year by winning the four-mile Harvard-Yale race. For alumni, athletes and coaches, one good effort in the peak competition of the season redeems a season of mixed results, like the culminating activity that earns a passing grade. In this case, one outcome converted a questionable process into a meaningful one.

The rowers were unanimous that training during the year decided the races in the spring and continued to pay dividends throughout the rest of their lives. Overcoming pain caused by lactic acid and soreness in their joints and muscles taught the athletes a lesson they wouldn’t forget. It was as if they were paraphrasing Ray Lewis’s words that “effort is between you and yourself and no one else” or echoing something that Kevin Garnett would say. Work ethic does make a difference; rowers at Harvard and sprinters on the national track team understand that athletes are as responsible as coaches for finding that “extra 25%” because they are the ones who must live with the consequences.

For rowers, their personal struggle is lasting but public acknowledgement fleeting. There is no reason to row for personal fitness because the demands are so extreme. What remains is self-actualization. Harvard coach Harry Parker keeps his instructions simple and succinct because he knows that the athletes truly want to push themselves to the limit, otherwise they wouldn’t be there. The athletes may disagree with their coach but respect him because he can light the way that they need to follow.

Their goals may be individual, especially at the international level, but the rowers cannot improve without the help of others. The physical environment of Harvard’s Newell Boathouse is traditional but tired so it is up to the athletes to create their own positive energy. The crew atmosphere is not unfocused but meets social needs and creates significance that motivates everyone to work harder. The workouts would be mere signposts on a dark highway if teammates were not there to light the way for each other.

Most people would not make good rowers, if they could even survive a single training session. But any athlete could experience the same feelings self-actualization felt by the Harvard crew, despite the difficulty and irrespective of any adversity by persevering, meeting short-term goals because they lead to a long-term payoff and helping each other. Every basketball practice can be like that erg session, leading to success in a championship game or an important cup race in the spring. Meaningful practice makes medals.