Harvard Crew: Learning to Deal with Uncertainty

The Harvard Crew's greatest foe this year is its own reputation. The Crimson is in the uncomfortable position of being The Crew To Beat in 1976--the year after The Crew graduated.

Gone are the Shealys and the Cashins, "the rude and the smooth," the arrogant and flamboyant oarsmen who propelled Harvard loudly and convincingly to the top of U.S. collegiate rowing for two straight years.

This is "the year of the Un" for a crew stepping into the blue Adidas stretchers of a national-championship eight that didn't have an "un" in its vocabulary.

The untried, the untested and the unknowns who flocked to New Boathouse last fall to secure a seat in the virtually uninhabited Varsity now face a season of uncertainty.

Returnees

Former lightweights, now-senior freshmen crew dropouts and formerly off-season oarsmen are now seat-racing against the backbone of squad returnees. Nobody knows how Harvard will do this spring, but four boats of oarsmen are fighting fiercely for a chance to determine the squad's fate.

If one thing remains constant in this atmosphere of uncertainty, it is coach Harry Parker. The enigmatic Parker is as close-mouthed and noncommittal about his squad's boating and future as he has been in the past.

Parker says that he will select a tentative varsity boat next week. Until then, the crew's favorite game, "Pick the Varsity," will be played more enthusiastically and more vociferously than ever, because nobody--perhaps not even Parker--knows who will fill those eight big seats.

Captain Hovey Kemp and junior John Brock, the only tow returning lettermen, appear top contenders for starboard positions along with two members of last year's J.V., senior John Wright and--that's right--junior John White. Another strong starboard aspirant is sophomore Tom Howes.

Two other sophomores, George Aiken and Dave Begohossian, are making potent bids for oars on the other side of the boat. John Niles, a senior who had not rowed since the fall of his freshman year, has in the words of one teammate, "gone wild." Two 1975 J.V.s, Bill Kerins and Dave Bixby, are also top competitors for port positions.

The stroke's seat, abandoned by world champion A1 Shealy, has no replacement yet. Ollie Scholle, docked with a knee injury last year after rowing number-two on Harvard's 1974 varsity, appears the most likely candidate. Scholle stroked the Harvard eight that raced in Egypt last December.

But who knows? When asked last Tuesday which oarsmen he thought were the most promising, Parker said typically, "I don't want to say. I don't want to discourage anyone."

But even the loudest speculation over Eliot House dinners is drowned out by the sound of the gritting teeth of aspirant collegiate crews frustrated by Harvard since May 1973--the last time the Crimson lost a race during the spring season.

Rating highest on the Richter scale are Penn, Washington and Wisconsin, who will go for Crimson blood in San Diego Crew Classic next week. Penn, which Harvard has traditionally treated to annual trouncing, will be especially venemous owing to the new spirit of its excellent freshman crew, which won the Eastern Sprints last year.

The Coast Vuard has also chosen to take a shot at Harvard, this year meeting the Crimson and UMass for the first time on April 17th in Cambridge.

Then the regulars attack--Brown, MIT and Princeton, Navy and Penn on consecutive weekends--all with abnormal strength in what could be Harvard's year of abnormal un-strength. Each crew will attempt to break the Crimson for what each sees as long overdue defeat in the Eastern Sprints on May 16th.

Harvard and Yale have traditionally looked forward to their annual four-mile race at the Red Top camp in New London each June. But this year, after passing a Harvard boat in the Head of the Charles, Yale has been counting the days.

'Yes'

"Yes," Parker said Tuesday, "we're not as strong as we were last year. We're going to have a hard time and against a number of crews. Other crews are going to be stronger. But we're looking forward to beating as many crews as we can."

A strange thing to hear the year after the Crimson was talking not about how many crews it would beat, but about how many lengths it would beat them by.

But however startling Harvard's predicament might seem to recent Crimson crew fans, that is--after all--the way things should be. Besides, there is still hope for another championship season.

Last Monday, the 1976 Harvard crew faced its greatest foe, the reputation of Harvard's 1975 crew. Dick Cashin, number-six man of the latter crew and the U.S. National Team eight, returned to Cambridge from Cambridge, England, for a little workout at Newell.

Cashin sat on the seat of the port ergometer and set the counter for a four minute piece. Junior John Brock sat on the seat of the parallel starboard ergometer and set the counter for a four-minute piece.

Eruption

Ready. Go. The two men erupted simultaneously, sprinted to a gruelling cadence, then settled into a pattern of long simulated oarstrokes that has induced many people to call the erg, "the Ugh."

Cashin, smooth and experienced, seemed to blast each stroke effortlessly, all the while spinning the six-pound weight behind the ergometer furiously with each eruption of his legs and back. Brock, somewhat rougher in style but determined to beat Cashin, grimaced and hurled his weight in kind.

Both men grunted and both ergs clanked and screeched as oarsmen collected around them in silence. The grunts, the clanks and the muttered curses increased as, in that room, the duel between 1975 and 1976 was played.

In the final minute, both men jacked up the cadence once more. On the last drive, the counter clicked. Fellow oarsmen with contrived nonchalance sidled up to each counter to compare the scores.

Brock--and 1976--had won, by 50 points. Maybe 1976 will be the year that the reputation of 1975 is un-done.