The Boat Race

Admittedly the Oxford Cambridge Boat Race is not the world’s most exciting sporting event. There are no high impact collisions, acrobatic catches or bloody brawls. No. For 17 minutes, sixteen men rhythmically pull their oars through the water with a grace and fluidity that looks effortless to the untrained observer. But what the fans don’t see is their pulses are hammering at an insane rate and every stroke harnesses every fiber or their strength. This single race is the culmination of seven months of the most grueling and arduous training imaginable. Long hours on the rowing machine that sets muscles on fire, sprint ergs that left them puking in their lap, and frigid pre-dawn outings on an icy river. It’s the kind of sport that tests spirit as much as strength. And the Oxford and Cambridge are obsessed with it. For 158 years these universities have pitted their eight best rowers against each other and in recent years over a quarter of a million people swarm the banks of the Thames while millions more sit glued to their TV sets. And this year’s race was one for the ages.

After a crushing win last year and impressive performances at earlier regattas, Oxford was the heavy favorite, although the Cambridge boat outweighed them by almost twenty pounds to the man. The race started off according to expectations, with Oxford maintaining a narrow lead in the early minutes of the race. Myself and about ten friends watched on a jumbo screen in a riverside park and crowded along the riverbank as the boats surged past. Moments after everyone settled into our seats to watch the last seven minutes of the race, something unprecedented happened. A swimmer emerged directly in line with the Oxford blades, which were churning through the water at close to 40 strokes a minute. The coxes frantically called for both crews to stop and the swimmer dived under water to avoid being decapitated by the blades. It quickly became evident that the swimmer was a protester who had disrupted the race deliberately. Meanwhile, the race referee determined that the raced would need to be re-started from the half waypoint of the river. Both crews turned around and paddled back the way they had come, followed by an armada of power boats carrying police, referees, medics, coaches and the like. By the time the race was ready to resume 30-minutes had elapsed. I can only imagine what the rowers must have felt, soaking wet on a freezing cold day, lactic acid surging through their blood stream and thoughts whirring as they tried to refocus and prepare for a 7 minute race, a sprint piece dissimilar to what they had been training for.

The race restarted with Oxford pulling ahead in seconds and they took an aggressive line to force the Cambridge crew into the rough water. Suddenly the ref was welling at Oxford to move away and before the coxes could correct the inside oars from both boats clanked together. The blade of an Oxford oar snapped and went flying. The race was over before it had even really re-started. Down a rower, Oxford would have no chance of challenging Cambridge for victory. The race commentators suggested that Oxford should stop rowing and register a “did not finish” rather than a loss but the Oxford rowers would have none of it and continued on valiantly. Cambridge pulled steadily away and cruised across the finish line as Oxford limped along behind. Moments after crossing the line they sat gasping for air and reeling at the sudden turn of events. Suddenly the Oxford bowman collapsed and when his teammates were unable to revive him he was moved to a medical boat and treated for exhaustion. To push himself so hard in a loosing battle was a tremendous display of determination that can only be done justice by Teddy Roosevelt’s famous Man in the Arena quote:

It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat. 

Once the oarsman was revived, all attention turned to the protester. Allegedly he was protesting elitism, which he, an LSE graduate who lives in a 350,000GBP flat, claims is epitomized by Oxford and Cambridge. Words cannot do credit to the injustice he wrought on the Boat Race, but Will Zeng, and American Rhodes scholar on the Oxford squad said it best:

When I missed your head with my blade I knew only that you were a swimmer, and if you say you are a protester then, no matter what you say your cause may be, your action speaks too loudly for me to hear you. I know, with immediate emotion, exactly what you were protesting. You were protesting the right of seventeen young men and one woman to compete fairly and honorably, to demonstrate their hard work and desire in a proud tradition. You were protesting their right to devote years of their lives, their friendships, and their souls to the fair pursuit of the joys and the hardships of sport. You, who would make a mockery of their dedication and their courage, are a mockery of a man.

In the aftermath both boat clubs exhibited a level of sportsmanship that is rarely exuded in modern athletics. The Cambridge boat refrained from any raucous displays of celebration and the presentation of awards was cancelled out of respect for the hospitalized oarsman. Please take a minute to read some of the statements. It is a terrible shame that in a world where physical talent is so exalted, such integrity is undervalued.

The Oxford cox, Zoe de Toledo:

Firstly, I’d like to say how proud I am of the eight true gentlemen who I had the pleasure to cox in The Boat Race yesterday. Seeing how the guys attacked the Race in the last 5 minutes was simultaneously one of the worst, but also one of the proudest moments of my life.

Ultimately it is just a tragedy that neither crew had the opportunity to display its best ability over the full course from Putney to Mortlake. We are devastated that we did not get the chance to find out what we were capable of achieving in the second half of the Race, and many of us will never have that opportunity again. It is our sincerest hope that every future Boat Race crew, from both Oxford and Cambridge, is afforded the chance to fairly test themselves over the full 4 and a quarter miles that make The Boat Race such a unique event.

We are all extremely proud of The Boat Race as an event and a tradition, and accept that bizarre events like those that occurred yesterday do happen. That’s sport. Whilst I believe I will remember yesterday’s remarkable events for all the wrong reasons, I would not trade the friendships I have built with my crewmates for anything. Yesterday I truly learnt what it was to be part of a team. A team that rallies around you and shelters you from the storm when you are at your lowest. Lastly I want to finish by saying how proud I am of my teammates in the Isis crew, who not only set the record for the Reserve Boat Race, but also recorded the third fastest time in the history of the Race.

Dr. Alex Woods, the rower who was hospitalized for exhaustion:

Thank you all for your kind wishes, it really means a lot. I'm sorry for worrying anyone with a slow reply. I've only recently been discharged under supervision and have access to my phone. I am ok, the doctors at Charing Cross believe that I just ended up with too much lactate in my blood, and my body just shut down in response. I should be back to normal in a few days. 

I'm very proud of Zoe De Toledo Roel Haen Dan HarveyHanno Wienhausen Karl Hudspith Alex Davidson Kevin Baum Will Zeng, it has been an honour to call you my crew mates.

I don't remember anything of the end of the race, and am obviously devastated at the way things turned out, but congratulations to CUBC for their win. I'm sorry my collapse prevented your celebrations, and thank you for thinking of me at the time. Such sportsman-like behaviour is a credit to yourselves and Cambridge.