The Coach’s Dilemma

Crews will often present their mentors with tough problems. What gearing to set, what outing plan to advise, where to sit the big oik with nil technique but 100% attitude are amongst the more widely understood. But consider, coaches have, since the dawn of time, been faced with a series of tricky verbal hurdles which they fail to negotiate at their peril.

WHAT DID THAT LOOK LIKE, STEVE?

Well, this one almost always occurs after a short piece of work which the crew (or sculler) thinks has gone especially well. Your answer will by no means be tied to the objective merits of the rowing. We have a matrix of a sort:

Case: The Crew HAS Rowed Well

You acknowledge this

• This risks reinforcing the evident smugness of the oarsmen concerned
• It also damages your credibility as a totally hard bastard
• And it gives the crew the sense that THEY know when they’ve done well thus forever reducing your chances of giving them a good bollocking
• The crew will probably now want to miss Marlow in order to prepare PROPERLY for Henley

You deny it

• Your Hitlerian reputation remains intact and the rowers concerned are under no illusion about their abilities
• You retain the possibility of showing the crew ‘how good they can be even when they are awful’ by persuading them to enter piddly events and win
• But do this too many times and they’ll start to disbelieve you and/or drift off to other pursuits such as tiddlywinks or sex. You may in certain cases intend this.

Case: The Crew Has NOT Rowed Well

You state this

• Their little heads fall.
• They will promise to try harder
• You all have a bout of Maoist self-criticism around the issue of the failure of the crew to take your coaching
• A fully justified pessimism may lead to an outbreak of unseemly spanner throwing in the changing rooms

You lie

• You avoid any personal unpleasantness
• The crew feel bucked up by your generosity (but don’t overdo it)
• The crew will probably now want to miss Marlow in order to prepare PROPERLY for Henley
• Thus leading to a serious outbreak of personal unpleasantness at qualifying time – make sure your passport is good for Tajikistan

HOW WILL I/WE GET TO HENLEY?

In a sense this is a lot easier. The very traditional "down the M4 and chuck a right at Maidenhead" should have them rolling in the aisles for 15 seconds if your timing is good enough. This gives you time to weigh up the alternatives. You CAN by all means give a totally truthful answer "down the M4, chuck a right at Maidenhead but make sure you get there good and early else you wont get a good view" but this risks depriving you of your weekend entertainment on the bank.

Or, of course, you can present them with the "you will have to train 7 days a week, do 20,000 metre ergos, eat only the finest food and eschew all fruit of the vine and hop". Personally, I don’t see anything wrong with this line, but from the coach’s point of view there is always the danger that some poor mad sods will take it all far too seriously and expect you to turn out to help them at all hours of the day and night and even cold Sunday mornings. Or maybe not, in which case you’ll be left with the hopelessly keen but differently talented novices.

You may even try a more surreal line: "find some more talented oarsmen to row with and we’ll consider it". This leaves everyone under the illusion that if they all train hard enough and find the right number (= crew members – 1) of superstars then the Brittannia Cup is theirs BY RIGHT. On the other hand this leaves open the possibility (nay, likelihood) that you will find foisted upon you, a series of ageing and flabby rowers whose lack of ability was formerly concealed in the big clubs for whom they once rowed.

WHAT WEIGHTS DO YOU THINK WE SHOULD DO?

Eschew honesty. The answer "any would be good" will only generate for yourself an undeserved reputation for flippancy and will fail to focus the minds of those weeds and wets whose intellectual curiosity has led them down this particularly blind alley. Rather, blow them away with displays of (pyro)technical knowledge. Quote respected authorities (invent them – no-one will have heard of them but no-one will have the balls to admit this), witter on at length about strength-conditioning programmes and monitored-performance campaigns. By all means wave your arms around a lot so long as you do not speak AT THE SAME TIME for this will preserve that essential air of uncommunicably complex knowledge. Then run, RUN to the library and photocopy the most abstruse pages you can find, extra kudos will accrue for algebra and tabulated percentiles, even if these refer in actuality to the sex life of the Common Newt (which after all has much in common with ‘your’ oarsmen)

AM I TOO OLD/YOUNG/FAT/SMALL TO DO THIS SPORT?

The only question you should ask yourself before responding is ‘how much do I need this individual?’ This will give YOU the answer you require. The answer the individual needs, however, is quite different and is:

Do you think you are too……to do this sport?

Pericles would be proud of such a rhetorical trick, Barry John of such a side-step and you may live to be bought another beer by said individual, even in the same session if you play your cards right.

Above all, the coach must seem above it all(!), even when he/she is at least as highly motivated as any crew-member. The air of studied calm, that authority that (looks like it) can only come from deep experience and understanding. These are sine qua non. And THIS is why you must never EVER do ergs or run around.

But relax, it’s the same the whole world over. Even Jurgen and Bill have the same issues, they’re just better paid and a bit madder.

Andrew Blit
SRC

©Andrew Blit 16th November 1998