Embedded Files
To recap briefly: The 1964 rowing season began on March 31, the Tuesday after Easter, when the crews from Fordham and St. John’s arrived on the Potomac to row a two day regatta against Georgetown, George Washington, Howard, and American. The Hoya Freshmen and Varsity won their first races against Fordham and GW, but the JV came in second; Wednesday, against St. John’s, the Hoya heavies pulled a sweep with victories by the freshmen, JV, and varsity. The next Saturday, we travelled up to Philadelphia to race LaSalle. Again the Varsity won, but the freshmen and JV lost. At home again on April 11th, we scored another sweep over the crews from Drexel and Howard[1]. So far the varsity heavies were continuing their two year undefeated streak. And in mid-April, Don and Inge Cadle sailed away to Germany.
The St. Joe’s Race
Washington Post
April 19, 1964
Then on the 18th we (the freshmen and varsity) returned to the Schuylkill to race the crews from St. Joe’s and Iona. This was supposed to be a major test for the varsity since SJ was also undefeated this year. In our freshman race St. Joe’s entered two boats, and Iona entered its JV making a four boat field. With our new stroke, John Barry, we rowed well into a headwind, and drew away to win by two lengths over Iona, with both SJ boats trailing; the time was 6:51.1.[2] Given the pre-race hype about SJ’s strength, we were relieved to win and excited about getting SJ’s nice betting shirts that featured crossed oars.[3] Very cool. However our enthusiasm was short-lived.
The varsity race was a portent of dark days to come. Having fallen two lengths behind early on, the Georgetown eight managed to draw even but were beaten in the closing sprint by a half-length, by what seemed to be a better crew.[4] The guys were pretty demoralized about breaking the streak. This was not supposed to happen, not this year; five of them were veterans who had lost only twice before in their careers, and one of those losses was to the World Champion Ratzeburg crew. As Frank Barrett recalls,
They (SJ) were a good crew, the best we had faced and rowing in Philly it wasn’t a surprise that we had a real race on our hands. They beat us fair and square. The kids felt that the world had ended, were shocked and surprised. How could this happen? We were GU and we didn’t lose. That loss . . . was shattering. . . We lacked the confidence to lose, mark it up as a growth experience, and move on.
So despite our freshman victory, and our cool trophy shirts, the ride home was somber and subdued.
The Decline and Fall of the Varsity Heavies
The loss to St. Joe’s began a process of self-defeating introspection: what went wrong? Was it the loss of the Cadle mystique? Could the varsity recover their confidence without his special magic? Was it the new Karlish tulip blades? The higher stroke rates? These questions bred uncertainty, and the uncertainty bred a desperate quest for a fix.
Goose and Frank thought that perhaps the higher stroke was diminishing the run resulting in the seven oar catching in the bow-man’s puddle thus losing proper purchase and dissipating his power, so they tried a new rigging with two and three oars on the port side with a starboard stroke. But there was no difference in speed, and the doubt deepened.
That next Saturday, April 25th, Marietta coach Ralph Lindamood brought his unbeaten Dad Vail Champion squad to the Potomac and swept the freshman,[5] JV, and varsity races. To suffer a sweep on our own river was bad enough but even worse was to come the following weekend in the DC Area Regatta.
Hoya May 1, 1964
The DC Debacle, May 2nd
Washington Post
May 3, 1964
Since the advent of Don Cadle, Georgetown had enjoyed supremacy over the area crews, GW, American, and Howard. The Hoyas were better trained and better coached, and had the benefit of many more hours on the water than their local competitors, and so the outcome of the racing that Saturday was supposed to be a forgone conclusion, a morale boosting sweep in preparation for the ‘64 Dad Vail Championship May 8th.
The day got off to a good start as the freshman heavies[6] won their race with what would prove to be the fastest time of the day, 6:07 for the 2,000 meters, a time assisted by a gusty wind that diminished during the later races. The JV then set the stage for the expected sweep by winning their race. But what ensued can only be described as a debacle, the nadir of Georgetown rowing for many years to come. The Varsity came in dead last, “DFL,” beaten by Howard, American, and GW. Only Joseph Conrad had the right word for it:
“The Horror. The Horror!”
In his column in The Hoya, Rory Quirk[7] hypothesized that the crew had peaked too early and was physically exhausted by months of training. Though a friendly excuse, this theory was quite implausible on its face. Physical exhaustion among young athletes in their prime is curable with a few nights’ sleep. Still the “Great Crew Mystery” haunted us all during the next week’s preparations. As freshmen, we were excitedly looking forward to our first shot at the legendary Dad Vail Championship, a chance to measure ourselves against the other eleven freshman entries. But our enthusiasm was dampened by the concern everyone felt regarding the state of the Varsity. No one in their boat spoke about Saturday’s race; no one even ventured an explanation. Such a defeat by such rivals was like an unspeakable stigma that required us to avert our eyes and remain silent while praying for some miracle to set us all right again.
After fifty years, recollections of that awful afternoon are sketchy and on some points inconsistent or altogether vacant. Nevertheless a mosaic of memories can be assembled to provide an understanding of what went so horribly wrong. Whatever the “truth” might be about those seven minutes of agony on the Potomac so long ago, this account will have to suffice.[8]
The spirit of the varsity that week before the DC regatta was a bit schizophrenic. Given the mediocre quality of their competition, there was cocky confidence; but there was also a lingering concern. Despite the realistic expectation of victory, two consecutive defeats had left a pervasive residue of self-doubt. As Darro recalled, “the ‘Don is gone’ fog had an effect on our rowing.” Looking back to that time, even Frank Barrett acknowledged that as inexperienced young coaches he and Goose pressed too hard; there was a lack of confidence, that ability “to lose, and yet grow through it. . . (as coaches) we panicked.”
The lane assignments for the four varsities put Georgetown outside, in the fourth lane, closest to the DC shore; this was unfortunate because it required steering a course out and around the fourth pier of Key Bridge. This was not a great handicap, but it was still worrisome and would prove to be a contributing factor in the race result. As Tiger Sergeant recalls, once the boat arrived above the starting line, the practice starts felt solid and so too the set-up of the shell on the “easy alls.” The crew felt confident and ready to race against crews they considered little better than JV squads. Paradoxically, that confidence probably disguised their lingering unease. When the Ref gave the command “ROW!” the GU eight nailed their start; in the first twenty strokes they sprinted out to an open water lead over the field, and victory seemed assured right then and there. But an equipment failure in one of the other boats forced a recall and a long delay getting restarted; another bad omen.
The victorious Freshmen Heavyweights, May 2, 1964
By all accounts the second start was an absolute nightmare. His hand in the air, Tiger was still getting pointed at his lane marker when the command to “ROW!” sounded across the water. After this initial confusion, the crew never settled into their racing beat; and worse, they began to come apart, shouting to one another in unwonted confusion. With such a breakdown of discipline, it would have been best for the cox simply to call a halt, gather the crew, and restart. The race was not yet out of hand and they had the resilience and the speed to catch up. Instead the meltdown only got worse; in Tiger Sergeant’s memory “we scrambled completely out of control as if we’d never rowed before. We panicked.”
By this time they were making their wideout turn under Key Bridge, off by themselves in lane four where the current flowing around the pier tends to push boats even farther off the shortest line to the finish. But worse than the current under the bridge, was the 15 mph crossing wind swirling just beyond the lee of the abutment. As the bow came out of the turn that wind and chop caught the oars and exacerbated the mayhem. Mark Pisano recalls that bowman Fred Vollbrecht was swearing about the high stroke (36 spm.) Oars flailing, timing and keel utterly lost, emotions running amok, chaos reigned. They were now far behind the leader, Howard, and trailing third place GW by open water. The race was all over but the shouting. Literally!
The Revival Meeting
Copley Lounge at Georgetown as it was in the 1960's
As bad as it was however, the defeat was not irredeemable. In fact it was the bottom; and when you hit bottom, there is only one way left to go. In the aftermath of Saturday’s loss, the varsity was taken in hand by Frank Barrett and Bob “The Goose” Remuzzi. As young alumni coaches, they were not Cadle’s equal in regard to techniques, but they did know their guys and knew what they needed. Tiger put the point perfectly: “Crews cannot gain in strength and finesse in two weeks. The only thing left is the mind. . . The thing that carries the day is always psychological.” And so together, Goose and Frank made a psychological appeal that brought about the most stunning comeback in the history of Georgetown Rowing.
That Sunday evening Goose and Frank convened a closed meeting of the varsity heavies in the oak-paneled sanctum of Copley lounge; it was like the apostles gathered in the upper room on Pentecost. Amid the rich leather upholstery, the deep carpets and all the trappings of Georgetown’s traditions, the two young coaches wove their spell as their crew sat back in the loungers and listened with despondent attention.
Rhetorically, this couldn’t be a Knute Rockne style pep-talk in the locker room at half-time, not a “Win one for the Gipper” speech. There are no half-times in crew, and locker room ranting would be utterly ill-suited to the moment and the mood they needed to create. Their purpose that day was not to elicit a transient passion, but to restore hope and instill sustaining conviction. The Pentecost simile is apt: the “Holy Spirit” was about work a minor miracle.
No one recalls the exact words they used, but then neither do we have the words Themistocles spoke to his captains and crews before they rowed to their immortal victory over the Persians fleet at Salamis. Yet those who heard them agree upon the themes they gave shape and substance.
Quietly, Goose reminded them that the stakes could not be higher. The fate of the University’s commitment to Crew would be riding in the boat with them at the Dad Vail. Without Don Cadle’s charisma to defend them from the long knives in the Athletic Department, another defeat would probably doom rowing at Georgetown. They could not allow the Crew to fold; not this way.[9] Not after all that Cadle and their alumni, guys like Gerber, Fitzgerald, Cassidy, Casey, Doyle, O’Brien, and Prest, not to mention Barrett and Remuzzi themselves, had striven so hard to establish. The solemn mood deepened, as the nine listened to that honor roll and thought of their responsibility.
Then he reminded them of who they were and all they had hoped for, the goals Cadle had set the previous summer: win the Vail, go to the IRA, and then compete in the ’64 Olympic Trials. He told them things they already knew about themselves but had forgotten in the last three weeks. They were all – even the sophomores - veteran oarsmen who’d sacrificed their vacations to row through the heat and humidity last summer to weld themselves into a fast crew capable of realizing those goals. They were the same guys who made that boat “sing,” and who had rowed the Potomac course in 5:48 against an incoming tide[10]. Three of them had rowed undefeated in ’62.The truth was they hadn’t been beaten in the DC race as much as they had forfeited it by their own uncharacteristic mistakes. Now they must put aside their humiliation and decide how they were going respond to the challenge of the next week. Physically, they were the equals of any crew in their way. They had only to recover their belief in their goals, in each other, and in themselves as individuals. A light was beginning to break through now, and the mood in Copley began to change. In place of despair, a grim determination was taking hold of the crew.
The psychological conversion having begun, Goose now applied the master’s touch. He convinced the varsity that they could, and that they would WIN again; and that the earlier losses were not necessarily the worst preparation for rowing the Dad Vail against their prime rivals, Marietta – the defending champions, and St. Joe’s – who’d beaten GU three weeks before. It might even prove to be a strategic advantage. Let them gloat over Georgetown’s collapse. That was then. This was NOW. And now was the time to reassert Georgetown’s pre-eminence and add their own names to that honor roll. They were sitting forward now, listening intently as he laid out the strategy for the coming victory.
Bow Fred Vollbrecht, 2 Mark Pisano, 3 Bill McNeill, 4 Darro Angelini
5 Jack Hoeschler, 6 Pete Blyberg, 7 Mike Mullin,
Stroke Dan Ebert, Cox Tiger Sergeant
Though born of desperation, the plan Goose and Frank offered them had the simplicity of genius. Forget about vying for a favorable lane assignment, just row the Friday afternoon and Saturday morning heats to qualify and advance to the finals. Nothing fancy, don’t show them much, and “don’t get bloody-minded” as Cadle would say; just get into the final. Let Marietta and St. Joe’s believe the stories about the DC debacle. Let them have their way in the heats. Then, in the final on Saturday afternoon, would come their chance for sweet vindication. Georgetown would roar off the line at 48spm, take them all by surprise, grab the lead, and then enjoy the race all the way to the finish line. With that vision of victory in their minds the nine looked at each other and knew, KNEW, it was really possible.
The meeting came to an end. Without much rhetorical flourish, the simplicity of the talk worked its magic. Goose had restored their faith in themselves and their hope in the mission: Win the Vail and take back their pride. His conviction had rekindled their determination as well as their confidence, and recast the haunted as the hunters.
The Dawn of the Remuzzi – Barrett Era
The Copley meeting on May 3rd, 1964, marked the moment of transition from the era of Don Cadle to the era of Remuzzi and Barrett. With this talk Goose proved himself the leader worthy and capable of filling Don’s place and commanding the confidence of these men so in need of revival. The “Don is gone” fog had lifted. Recall that there were six seniors sitting there in Copley that Sunday. Sergeant, Ebert, Mullin, Hoeschler, Pisano, and Vollbrecht, guys who desperately needed the vindication Goose had sketched so effectively; they were facing their last chance. Even the other three, Blyberg, Angelini, and McNeill, badly wanted to win for their sakes as much as for their own. The Copley meeting, as much as the victory it predicted, was a historic moment in the evolution of Georgetown Rowing. It was GURA’s Pentecost Sunday.
The workouts that week showed the effect of the Varsity’s revived spirit. The nine had matured markedly in those few days. They had recovered their trust in each other and had the boat swinging once more, and the run stretched out as never before. Though no less serious about their task, the guys were smiling and looking forward again. In keeping with Cadle’s prerace training regimen, Goose had the varsity rowing shorter workouts stressing starts and short pieces at a racing beat. This idea of a “tapering down” was based on the physiological theory of storing up the athletes’ energies prior to their expenditure in the main event. As Tiger Sergeant explains,
The week before the Vail was not even a full week of practice. There was the taper. Monday we probably had a ‘hard’ practice, and then started to build up energy – that was a Cadle plan. He would warn us of our built up strength: car doors opened with extra force and slammed by that same untapped reserve. Then of course the pent up energy is released in the final. Workouts were light, with starts, short sprints at high levels. Strokes counted with 20s and 10s, but no long pieces.
Aside from its physiological merits, the psychological appeal of the “taper” should not pass unnoticed. Cadle’s “warning about our built up strength” was akin to a post-hypnotic suggestion that Goose no doubt wished to use to advantage: they were getting even more powerful, more ready, more confident. So be careful with those car doors! Like the old joke about the medicinal effects of chicken soup on the deceased, “it can’t hurt!” Especially in Springtime, the “Joys of the Taper” must never be underestimated. It worked.
After the Passion, the Resurrection: The Dad Vail 1964
’Varsity row to Dad Vail victory: Fred Vollbrecht bow, Mark Pisano 2
Bill McNeill 3, Darro Angelini 4, Jack Hoeschler 5,Pete Blyberg 6
Mike Mullin 7, Dan Ebert stroke, Doug Sergeant cox
Georgetown drew lane two in the second (of four) Varsity heats on Friday afternoon. Alongside them were Wayne State (in lane 1) and American International (in lane 3,) and then Marist, Amherst, and Florida Southern. After about six strokes Wayne State’s cox lost control and veered into GU’s lane and oars clashed as both boats were forced to stop. The race was restarted and went according to plan: GU kept their cool after the mishap and without extending themselves came in first ahead of Amherst by 5 seconds, 7:02.2 over 7:07.2, with Florida Southern 7:10.3, Wayne State 7:18.4, Marist 7:35, and American International (no time) trailing.[11]
As Pete Blyberg recounts, the first place finish meant that GU had lane 1 in the Saturday morning semi-final, against Rollins, GW, Marietta, Amherst, and Florida Southern in lane 6. Given the lane assignments that had been published for the final, Goose told them not to try to win but instead aim to take second or third place.
Victory announcement in The New York Times, May 10, 1964
Again the GU eight rowed with cool control as they qualified for the final coming in third behind Marietta and Amherst.[12] The plan was working, and the stage was now set. For the six seniors there was only one more race, their last as Hoyas; for all, one last race for victory and vindication.
Their lane for the Dad Vail Final turned out to be just as Goose had hoped: as the third place crew they drew lane 3, and being in the middle of the course meant that Tiger would have a good view of both major rivals, Marietta in lane 4 and St. Joe’s in lane 5. Everything had now fallen into place.
In the last meeting before they shoved off, Goose reviewed the plan with Tiger and Dan and Mike Mullin. Go out high and fast, grab the lead and hold it. Call for power as needed, and sprint to the finish. Seniors, enjoy your last race! Enough said. Now it was time get up to the line, and win the damn race!
And just like in the movies, that is exactly what the Varsity Heavies did. Coxed by the irrepressible Tiger Sergeant, and stroked by the unflappable Dan Ebert ‘64, followed by Mike Mullin ’64, Pete Blyberg ’65, Jack Hoeschler ’64, Darro Angelini ’66, Bill McNeill ’66, Mark Pisano ’64, and Fred Volbrecht ’64, the Georgetown Varsity sprinted off the line into a strong head wind, took the lead by the quarter mile mark, extended it to two lengths at the halfway point and held on for a ¾ length victory with a winning time of 7:03.8 for the Henley distance of a mile and 5/16ths. St. Joe’s and Marietta placed second and third in 7:06.3 and 7:11.8, followed by Amherst 7:12.2, Fordham 7:18, and Drexel 7:24.8.
Tiger tossed into the drink
after Dad Vail '64 victory
The Hoya Heavies had pulled it off and returned to the Championship for the second time in three years. Mark Pisano describes the race from the two seat:
So we were sitting right where we wanted to be on the inside lane. Our strategy was to go out fast, 42 and settle down to 36. Worked perfectly. Never behind. Came into the final 500 about half a boat lead and started sprinting even before the 500 meters relying on our conditioning. The reason I remember the lead (we were not supposed to look at our opponents) was that Vollbrecht was screaming his head off at me to pull harder so that we could get open water. At the end we did not have open water but close to it. Besides the glory of victory, what we gained was the trust in one another, possibly the greatest gift of crew.
It was a sweet moment for all of us because those guys had become our heroes that year, and we identified with their agony in defeat, and now relished the thrill of their victory. There was even some half-serious talk that the Area Regatta had been just a set-up to the upset. Preposterous, but in the glow of that afternoon, it was a great laugh-line. Champions can afford to laugh, and grin, and bask in the moment. It was a great day for the entire crew, and secured the future of rowing at Georgetown.[13]
Sometime amid the celebration, Goose got to a phone and made a long-distance call to Don Cadle in Germany to report the results: Varsity first, Freshmen second, and JV third. The call was emotional, but also anticlimactic, for it marked the closure of the Cadle era. The Victory at the ’64 Vail belonged to Frank Barrett and especially to Bob “The Goose” Remuzzi, the two guys who during those “seven days in May” saved the future of Georgetown Crew for the generations that followed.
Bob Remuzzi, Al DiFiore and Frank Barrett about
to accept the Dad Vail Trophy at Vesper Boat House
The Freshman Race at the Dad Vail[14]
Since there were only twelve freshman crews entered that year, there were only two six-boat heats with three from each to qualify for the final Saturday afternoon. In the first heat late Friday afternoon, Marietta 7:16.3 beat Drexel 7:23.5 and Howard 7:28.3; and in the second heat the GU freshman avenged their earlier loss by coming in first in 7:09.6 ahead of LaSalle 7:12.1, with Purdue taking third 7:13.8. With these six crews, the next day’s final field was set; but we understood that the real race would be against the big M’s from Marietta who’d inflicted that sweep only two weeks before. To ensure that we would get up to the starting line in plenty of time for the heat our cox Jay Weldon borrowed my wrist watch to wear on his bicep during the row up. But then during the excitement of the race, it began to slip downward on his slender arm until it ended up between his steering toggle and the clapper board on the side of the shell. After we were safely over the finish line he looked at me apologetically and held up the watch with its shattered crystal. Fortunately, quality endures in watches as with oarsmen; even after other similar mishaps and repairs, I am still wearing that 1959 vintage Omega “Seamaster.” It’s rare that I look at it and don’t recall that Friday afternoon on the Schuylkill.
In his May 15 editorial Rory Quirk
summarizes the crew turnaround
with a tribute to Richard McCooey
The lane assignments for the final on Saturday afternoon were Drexel in lane 1 (grandstand side of the river,) Georgetown, Purdue, Marietta, LaSalle, and Howard on the far-side in lane 6. I remember very little of those seven minutes of the final except that we never did get to look back at on Marietta’s blue shirts with their big white “M”s. They took off from the start and lead all the way, with us and Drexel in the chase. The Washington Post reported that “Georgetown staged a grand rally at the end to place second but could not catch Marietta which was the winner by nearly two lengths.” To correct any faulty inference from that account of a final “rally,” we never trailed Drexel; it was strictly a two boat race between the Hoyas and the Pioneers.
The Hoya reports on all the
GU boats at the Dad Vail
The one thing that I do remember was the roar of the crowd as we came up to Peter’s Island. Crew is not usually a big spectator sport, and in our previous races, even on the Schuylkill, there had been only faint applause from a handful of friends barely audible to crews out on the river. But Saturday at the Dad Vail draws crowds numbering in the thousands and gathers them right on the river bank, virtually within a stone’s throw of the crews.[15] So as we came up on Peter’s Island in the last quarter mile, the roar was stunning for a crew as unaccustomed as we were. I recall being on the edge of exhaustion, when the noise of the crowd lifted me onto that final level of exertion. Maybe that was the “grand rally” cited by the Post.
We crossed the line and glided to a rest in the shadow of the stone railroad ridge, disappointed and exhausted (but upright) as the adrenaline began to dissipate. We had rowed our best but lost again to the farm boys from the Muskingum. The times were 7:11.7 for Marietta, 7:19.1 for Georgetown, and 7: 20.9 for Drexel, with Purdue 7:26.7, LaSalle 7:26.9, and Howard 7.33.9. Marietta’s jinx on me would last for as long as I rowed; I would never beat a Marietta crew. I came in second to the Big M’s in three out of my four Dad Vail Finals.
Despite having won the gold in 1962 and 1963, the JV boat (coxed by Russ LaMantia ’65, and stroked by Linc Hoffman ’65, powered by Bill Allen ’64, Rocque Kramer ’66, Marc O’Brien ’64, Terry Jerge ’65, Mike Hughes ’66, Jim Hanna ’66 and Ben Domenico ’65) was also disappointed with their third place finish behind a surging Rollins crew 7:06.7 that came in a length and a half ahead of Marietta 7:11.2 with Georgetown 7:14.9 in third. LaSalle 7:20.7, Amherst 7:20.9, and Trinity 7:23.4 trailed. Given the comparatively poor performance of the Rollins Varsity that day – they settled for first in the consolation race – there was some talk that Rollins may have “stacked” their JV in the hopes of winning at least that final.[16] But it’s best not to cast such aspersions, since for the next two years (’65 and ’66) Georgetown would suffer its own identity crises in trying to distinguish between “varsity” and “junior varsity” boats; the differences being however that a) although there were several varsity veterans in the JV those years, Goose did not “stack” our boats, and b) the JV didn’t win either year.
The JV Final
There was also an unusual “combination race” that morning for spares that had two Hoya eights rowing against and St. Joes’, and two combination boats manned by the spares of American, Howard, and Trinity as one crew, and American, Iona, and Marietta as the other. It was a good race for the Hoyas[17] who placed first (7:20) and second (7:22.4,) ahead of St. Joe’s (7:46); no times were recorded for the two “pickle boats.”
So with the Freshman and JV races over it was time for the GU Varsity Heavyweights to work their miracle. The afternoon was a success because they won the Dad Vail Trophy for the second time in three years; and the second and third place finishes of the freshmen and JV at least earned us all medals, not to mention the beautiful pewter mugs awarded to the Varsity nine. The drive home was happy.
1964 Heavyweight Junior Varsity: Bow Ben Domenico, 2 Jim Hanna
3 Jim Conley, 5 Marc O'Brien, 6 Terry Jerge, 7 Bill Allen
Stroke Linc Hoffman, Cox Russ LaMantia (4 Rocque Kramer NA)
The Eastern Sprints
1964 Lightweight Varsity: L to R: John Harrington, Glenn Farris,
Byron Sigg, Joe Creavy. Fred King, Jim Hergen, Jim Leahigh
Phil Negus, Bill Crusey, John Mahoney, Dan McEvily
Art Charles cox (Bob Frederick missing)
The ’64 season marked the inaugural season of lightweight crew racing[18] at Georgetown, and the Skinnies closed out their first season of competition by making the trip to Worcester Massachusetts to row in the Eastern Association of Rowing Colleges Championships on Lake Quinsigamond, better known as “the Eastern Sprints.” Despite a mixed season (they had won against Purdue at home on April 11th, but then lost to Navy at Annapolis on April 25th [19]) they were eager to get their chance to row in the “big time.”
In contrast to the “small colleges” and start-up programs that raced in the Dad Vail Rowing Association,[20] the EARC Sprints included the long-established rowing powers of the Ivy League, schools that traditionally dominated the world of crew racing. For lightweight oarsmen, to compete in the Sprints meant rowing against the best in the country, if not the world. So this first trip to Worcester cannot be exaggerated in terms of its effect on their morale; this was BIG for the Skinnies, but no less significant for the Georgetown Crew as a whole. The Skinnies were carrying the Blue and Gray into the front ranks of American rowing.
Logistics for the trip from DC to Worcester were facilitated by the presence of Heavyweight Captain Peter Blyberg,[21] and moderator Fr. Joe Sellinger who had arranged with his fellow Jesuits at Holy Cross to host the varsity and freshman skinnies overnight Friday. After the eight hour bus trip, they left their bags in the gym where they would spend the night, went off to dinner at a Shrewsbury steak house, “a real step up from Tad’s in that the steaks were so big they took over most of the plate.” Too bad the guys had to make weight before the racing![22]
All the racing took place on Saturday, starting with the freshman lightweight heats at 9am.[23] Because of the nine boat field,[24] the Hoya freshmen drew the first and larger (five boat) heat, and lined up in lane five. Unfortunately, there was no upset that morning as the young Hoyas[25] came in fifth 7:21.5, twenty-two seconds behind the eventual winner Columbia in 6:59.5, followed by Harvard 7:02.7, Penn 7:07.4, and MIT 7:08.5. Nor did the three boat consolation race that afternoon provide any consolation as the frosh trailed MIT 7:20.5, and Dartmouth 7:29.9, coming in about three lengths back in 7:42.5
In the varsity events, the Hoyas were competing against ten of the nation’s best lightweight crews.[26] Like the freshmen, the varsity Hoyas[27] drew the larger six boat second heat, and regrettably came in fifth[28] and also headed into the consolation race. Though disappointed at not making the final, the Hoyas were undaunted by their Ivy League competitors, and rowing up to the line that afternoon, they reminded each other about the importance of this last race and discussed how best to row it. The consensus was to keep the stroke down (low 30’s) so as not to exhaust themselves too early. Whatever might have been the merits of this battle plan, it did not survive “first contact with the enemy.”
Rowing in lane one (on the far western side of the course) the Georgetown varsity went off the line at a brisk 44spm and to the surprise of the PA announcer and themselves, they maintained a high stroke throughout the race. As Bill Crusey, ’65 recalls,
Despite our good intentions we got off to a mediocre start. Approaching the halfway mark we were at best in a three way tie for third place in a five boat race.[29]
(By way of background, the preceding November, shortly before President Kennedy was assassinated, we lost Dave Casey, the beloved stroke of our heavyweight boat that won the Vail in ’62. Dave was our hero and his death broke our hearts.)
At this point, the cox [Art Charles] called “power ten for Casey.” We were electrified! The boat took off in an emotional, communal explosion of focused power. . . It was a magic moment. Within a minute we were out in front with open water and managed to stay out in front and won by open water.
Fred King remembers the race a bit differently but to much the same point:
We had the new Karlish shovel-bladed oars[30] and we went off the line in the mid 40’s and settled at a 40. I remember the public address system at the 1000 meter mark exclaiming: “I can’t believe it! Georgetown is still at a forty!” We weren’t third; we were leading. Navy started to move a little on us. At this point Art Charles yelled: “Give me a power ten for Dave Casey!” I have never felt a boat surge as we did at that time. In ten strokes we opened another length on Navy and won walking away.
Indeed, Hoya Skinnies did win “walking away” in a time of 7:16.7. Following in their wake came Navy 7:21.4, Rutgers 7:26.2, Columbia 7:32.7, and Penn 7:44.9.
But what is remarkable about this incident of the power ten is the evocative power of Casey’s memory even among guys who’d never had the chance to row behind him. Fred King concludes his account of the race:
We were in our sprint with maybe 250 meters to go. There was a bit of a chop or maybe a wake. On a recovery my blade hit the chop and completely spun in my hands. I almost pissed myself. I said the quickest and shortest prayer of my life. Miraculously almost I avoided a crab, gripped the oar handle and made my catch and didn’t miss a stroke. If I had mucked up one of the greatest races in which I have ever participated I don’t think I could have lived with myself. Divine intervention? Perhaps, with the intercession of David Casey.
It would be hard to write a better testament to the high esteem in which Casey was held than this story of his role in winning the consolation race at the ’64 Sprints.
Pete Blyberg describes their closing sprint from his vantage point on the beach:
I was at the finish line listening to the announcer. . . As the race was being called and the skinnies were right in the thick of it I started getting carried away. As the boats approached the finish line and we had opened up a gap on Navy I started wading out into the water screaming. The finish line was right in front of me and it was truly an exciting moment for all of us. Georgetown could hold its own in the big leagues.
By winning the consolation race, Georgetown had earned seventh place among the top lightweight crews in the country, and while it was “only” the consolation race, it was still worth celebrating in the traditional manner, so the crew seized their dehydrated cox and tossed him into the waters of Lake Quinsigamond where he could finally drink his fill. The phone call back to campus sent the news to Coach Al DiFiore and the heavies who immediately prepared the welcome home.
Since they had rented the bus for only one overnight stay, they had to load up quickly and get on the road for the eight hour trip back to DC. When the bus pulled around Carroll Circle late that night the Skinnies received the best reward of all in the cheers, congratulations and well-earned respect of their fellow oarsmen.
The Celebration
The next day, a rainy Sunday afternoon, Mr. McCooey[31] hosted the traditional Black Velvet party in the dining room of the 1789 to celebrate the close of a truly remarkable season for the entire Crew. For the libations white jacketed waiters poured the bottles of champagne and Guinness into dozens of cocktail glasses, while scores of happy Hoyas lined up for plates of steaming Welsh Rarebit. We toasted ourselves, our victories, and especially our young coaches, Goose Remuzzi, Frank Barrett, and Al DiFiore; and in absentia, Don and Inge Cadle, and all those who had made this celebration possible. [32]
This had been an extraordinary year, a time of momentous changes that would play out over the next two years.
[1] By this time the heavy weight freshman boat was set; from bow, Jim Mockler, Jim Woods, Chuck Dailey, Henry Scherr, Mike Ryan, Ed Witman, John Soisson and John Barry. The coxswain for the Drexel race was Jack Renfrow.
[2] The freshman coxswain for the St. Joe’s race was George McCloon.
[3] My own rowing career can be summed up like a “good news/bad news” joke. The bad news is that I never beat a Marietta crew; the good news is I was never beaten by a St. Joe’s crew. Eight out of eight races, over four years.
[4] The Washington Post reported the times as: 6:19.2 over 6:21.1, with Iona at 6:34.
[5] The freshman coxswain for the Marietta race was Ned Moran.
[6] The freshman coxswain for the DC Regatta was Jack Renfrow..
[7] Rory Quirk rowed 2 seat in the first-freshman eight in 1962, and 6 seat in the very first lightweight varsity in ’63, but didn’t row after his sophomore year.
[8] Thanks to the first hand recollections of coxswain Doug Sergeant, Peter Blyberg 6, Darro Angelini 4, Bill McNeill 3, Mark Pisano 2, and Coach Frank Barrett.
[9] Remember that Goose had his own personal investment at stake. Only a few months earlier he had committed himself to the survival of Georgetown Crew in the face of Cadle’s advice to let it die. The events of recent weeks had appeared to confirm Don’s grim forecast, so to make good on his pledge, Goose had to work a miracle for himself as much as for his beloved Crew; for all intents and purposes, those two interests had become identical.
[10] Mark Pisano, 6/21/12. Frank Barrett lends a qualified corroboration to this time:
”The time I recall was 5:55. Cadle had the watch so it could have been a bit of a mind game. The reason I thinks so is that the JV also was under 6:00. . . . We were fast at the end of August and did have some really good rows, however, I really think Cadle was playing games as 5:55 or ‘whatever’ would have been really quick for flat water.” 12/20/12
[11] Times for the first heat: Marietta 6:53.2, Rollins 6:57.1, George Washington 7:03.6, Trinity 7:08, LaSalle 7:08.6 and Iona 7:09.2.
The third heat: Drexel 6:56, Purdue 7:00.7, Fordham 7:04.9, American U 7:14.2, C.W.Post 7:25.
The fourth heat: St. Joe’s 6:54.2, Howard 7:06.2, St. John’s 7:06.4, Clark 7:07.2, Michigan St. 7:25.9.
[12] The times for this first semi-final were: Marietta 6:46.6, Amherst 6:53.1, Georgetown 6:53.3; followed by George Washington 6:56. 8, Rollins 7:00.1, and Florida Southern 7:04.2
The second semi-final: St. Joe’s 6:46.8, Drexel 6:50.9, Fordham 6:52.4, Howard 6:52.8, St. John’s 6:57.4, and Purdue no time given.
[13] For the three veterans of the undefeated ’62 varsity, Jack Hoeschler, Mike Mullin, and Fred Vollbrecht, this was their second Dad Vail Championship in three years.
[14] The freshman Vail boat was from bow: Jim Mockler, Jim Woods, Chuck Dailey, Henry Scherr, Mike Ryan, Ed Witman, John Soisson, str. John Barry, and cox Jay Weldon.
[15] Depending on how rowdy (or well-policed) the crowd, this is more than a mere metaphor. Throwing stuff at the crews closest to the bank was always a temptation for drunken “fans,” although they seldom actually interfere with the races.
[16] Interestingly, Rollins’ time in winning the JV Final, 7:06.7, was significantly faster than their varsity’s winning time 7:10, in the Consolation race, and would have placed a close third in the Varsity Final, a half-length ahead of Marietta. HOWEVER to set the record straight, a comparison of the DV Programs from ’63 and ’64 rebuts this slanderous suspicion: there is no overlap between the Rollins Varsity of ’63 and their JV of ’64. Rollins did not stack their JV.
[17] The ‘64 DV program lists these two boatings as (in lane 2): bow D. Salentine, N. Carlucci, J. Conley, D. Conley, J. Scully, P. McGrath, R. Reynolds, str. J. Faust, and cox E. Dailey; this was the regular heavyweight 3rd varsity. The other GU boat (in lane 5) included: bow J. Leahigh, J. Creevy, P. Negus, G. Farris, J. Davin, K. Merritt, V. Roque, str. M. Duffner, and cox, J. Dolan; this boat was made up of lightweights who did not make it into the varsity that went to the Eastern Sprints the next week. Jim Leahigh disclaims the honor, pointing out that as a port oar he would not have rowed bow and did not row at all that day (1/5/13). The NAAO Rowing Guide for 1965, erroneously reports that the GU “second freshmen” won this race, but virtually none of the men in these two boats were freshmen that year. So it is more likely that the winner was the 3rd varsity heavies in lane 2.
[18] As explained in Chapter Four, there was a lightweight crew in 1963, but no lightweight racing as such. In’63 and earlier in ’64, the lightweights rowed as an extra entrant in the JV heavyweight races. See above.
[19] The GU Lightweight JV did win their race against Navy that day. (Glenn Farris 1/13/13)
[20] “The purpose of this group will be to promote competition among colleges struggling to begin rowing, as well as those larger schools not yet ready for the ‘big time’” Rusty Callow, 1934, on the founding of the DVRA.
[21] This account relies on Pete’s own memoir of the weekend. 1/1/13
[22] Captain Jim Hergen, a chronically heavy lightweight, was so concerned about his weight that he dressed in sweats and ran that morning to make sure he made the 155 lbs. limit. (Glenn Farris, 1/13/13.) Meanwhile, coxswain Art Charles had resolved to lose every possible gram, so he not only forswore food, but even liquids that night before the race. (Fred King, 1/13/13)
[23] The wake-up call that morning came a bit too early. Presuming that the Catholic gentlemen of Georgetown would want to attend early mass, a hapless campus cop barged into the gym around dawn to rouse the sleeping Hoyas by banging his nightstick on one of the iron cots. Unfortunately for the cop, he awakened the sleeping Bear himself, Fred King, who did not feel especially religious at that hour and proceeded to bum-rush the cop out the door in a torrent of profanity that probably still echoes across the campus at Holy Cross. (Mike Tarone, 9/13/12)
[24] Along with Georgetown the freshman crews were Columbia, Cornell, Dartmouth, Harvard, MIT, Penn, Princeton, and Yale.
[25] From the bow, Mike Quincey, Paul Barbian, Steve Plunkett, Joe Creed, John Bellizzi, Jim Haller, Mike Tarone, str. Carl Galauski.
[26] These were the top seeded boats of Cornell, MIT, Harvard, Columbia, as well as Dartmouth, Yale, Navy, Princeton, Rutgers, and Penn.
[27] From bow: John Harrington, Byron Sigg, Fred King, Bob Frederick, Jim Hergen, Bill Crusey, Phil Negus, str. Dan McEvily, and cox Art Charles.
[28] Behind Harvard 6:58, MIT 7:01.2, Princeton 7:02.2, and Rutgers 7:04.2, but ahead of Penn 7:28.7. All the times for the Sprints are from Pete Blyberg’s notes as confirmed by the next year’s (ie. 1965) EARC Program furnished by Bill McNeill ’66. As heavyweight Captain of Boats Pete accompanied the Lwts to Worchester “to manage the details and logistics of the trip.” (12/22/12.)
[29] Besides Georgetown, the Consolation race included Navy, Rutgers, Columbia, and Penn. Interestingly, the crews finished in order of their lanes: first through fifth.
[30] It is debatable whether these oars proved to be an advantage or a disadvantage for a lightweight crew because of they were both 4 ¾ inches longer, and had blades 3/4ths of an inch wider (and farther out on the shaft) than the traditional Pocock blades. As former Lightweight Captain Mike Tarone writes:
“Rowing 40spm with Karlish was the equivalent of rowing with oak blades in leaky boats. . . The oars were the story. . . longer than the Pococks, (with) big handles designed for our friends from the Black Forest.” 1/10/13
For a detailed comparison of the Pocock and Karlish oars see the appendix.
It was not until spring of 1968 that the lightweights finally got sets of used Pocock lightweight oars purchased from Princeton and Columbia. SGO Newsletter, 4/11/68
[31] See the appendix for a tribute to Dick McCooey.
[32] At the annual Athletics Awards Banquet that May, Art Charles received the “outstanding player” (sic) award for Crew, Jack Hoeschler earned the Robert A. Duffey Student-Athlete award, and Joe Frederick the student manager award. (GEORGETOWN RECORD, May 1964)
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