The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1899-08-25
Breaking Of an 0arsman
End Of an Ambition That Led to
the Varsity Crew.
row beautifully" said the
stranger, land barring accidents

~" OSouLl4 O11J, Sd1u LuC
stranger, ''and barring accidents
they're sure winners
BARRING accidents!" he answered.
do you realize that if one of those
eight men catches a crab, if one of those
oars breaks, one of those. slides is
jumped, if a box or a steamboat gets
in the way, if one of fifty possible acct
dents happens during the race, they're
sure losers?"
Dear me-" said the stranger, "you
make rowing a very uncertain sport"
1T is uncertain" he answered, CURLY.
Then they were silent, while the crew
out on the CLASSY stream caught up
their long, machine-like stroke, and
with. the coxswain granting rhythmic
ally and the launch putting behind
swept away up stream.
mo need to ask if you have rowed,' ~
the stranger said. "Your knowledge of
the game and your size show that"
eyes, I've rowed," he answered, "as a
substitute"
Then, throwing a huge leg across a
rock, he went on, half to himself: 1--WE
said too much not to say more. I've
never said as much before, but the sight
of those fellows rowing dragged it out
of me. Talk about accidents!
II come of a rowing family. My ia
Their stroked the crew in his time, and
my uncles rowed, and my cousins. In
fact, the varsity has not put out many
crews that have not carried a relative
OF mine. So when I came up to COL
lege, big, husky freshman, did not
give a rip for football, but was hot for
rowing. When I finally got into pair
oar, where I nearly pulled the side out
of the boat and drove the other fellow
frantic, was happy man. And when
heard the captain, after my perform
ance on the yeasty river, grunt to one
of the old oars: If that big dub can
only learn to forget what he knows
he may do,' was a very happy man.
swell, I soon told myself and all my
friends that was sure of making thu
varsity. And there was never a man
trained like me. could not get too
much of the weights and the dumb
bells, and stuck to the rowing machines
closer than did to my best friends.
When we began rowing in the tank, I
wanted to live there. took to the hard
work very kindly. I grew and waxed
so that people on the streets turned
round to look at me, and the coaches
had hard work to find a big enough
man to balance me. But they found
him. We had big, powerful crew, and
as weeks and months of training went
by, and time trials were held, we found
we had fast crew as well.
swell, we came down here for the
real work and the finishing touches.
It was glorious time for me. I was
a horse for work; I grew fairly to love
this river and this country; and then
everything spoke so strongly to me
of the sport cared for most. There
were lockers here with my uncles'
names cut in them; the old niger
cook remembered my father; wore
a ca p that had belonged to one of my
cousins. And the best thing was that
was as good as any of my family. !
was steady, fairly smooth and ire
mendously powerful. AS one after an
other of the old oarsmen, the greatest
heroes in the world to me, came down
to help the coaches, and saw them
eye me first critically and then approx
ingly, my cup of happiness was full.
knew was. considered a strong oar,
one of the best men in the boat. Iknew
1t from the peculiarly vicious way the
coach swore at me when he had fault
to. find, and the peculiarly tender way
he inquired about the rigging Of my
seat. a%s
ut came to the night before the race.