Rowing doesn’t always, let’s face it, bring out the best in everyone. Who can say that they haven’t seen crews throwing their toys out of the pram or people old enough to know better sulking after a race, or heard people cheering a disqualification, or celebrating wildly with unsportsmanlike lack of concern for the feelings of the losers? And before we start pointing the finger at others, who can say, hand on heart, that they’ve never ever grumbled about an umpire’s decision or grouched about the start position or found 101 reasons why a bad race wasn’t their fault?
And yet it’s not always that way. Rowing can also shine a light on the sporting, generous, kind and downright heroic side of its participants.
Fresh from the annual row-fest that is the Ross Regatta, hosted by our next door neighbours and arch-rivals, Ross Rowing Club – an event which always seems to be the scene of Monmouth’s biggest dramas – I’m delighted to report (now that my tears have dried – yep, once again I came home empty-handed) some shining examples of sporting behavior that should restore your faith in humanity.
- There was the crew member who gave up her seat in a promising boat to let someone stronger in, just to improve the chances of a couple of people who badly needed a win.
- There was the bunch of Ross people who cheered on passing Monmouth crews – arch-rivals will, after all, fight to the death but defend each other against all other comers.
- There were the novice women who, despite a race-that-never-happened first thing in the morning (the bank jumped out at them unexpectedly), stayed for the whole day to cheer on their club-mates and cheerfully carried blades and boats and generally made themselves useful.
- There were the shipmates who gave it their all and then some… and then some more… because they had a couple of girls in the boat who were ready for their first pot.
- There was the Ross youngster who, spotting that we were struggling to get our boat off the water after one of us had to dash off for their next race, took it upon himself to help carry the load.
- There was the umpire who saw the look on my face after my first ever win was subsequently declared a not-win and duly administered a kindly hug and words of encouragement.
- And then there were the wonderful, supportive, feisty, fabulous and downright heroic women of Monmouth RC who decided, at the end of the day, that there was unfinished business – and rearranged their diaries to put another fixture in the calendar.
It ain’t over yet.
