Athens 2004 - Olympic Impressions

The Rowing Service

Olympic Impressions from Schinias/Athens. Day 6 - Thursday 19th August 2004.

This is not intended to be commentary, as that is well covered via TV, radio, the FISA website and the newspapers. Plus it's difficult to get time amongst the other jobs. Here are odd bits and pieces those following the Games may find interesting.

Article index

  1. Saturday 14th August - kickoff at Schinias lake
  2. Sunday 15th August - the science of US sprintology
  3. Monday 16th August - out and about in Athens
  4. Tuesday 17th August part 1 - beach volleyball and other sins
  5. Tuesday 17th August part 2 - back to rowing again
  6. Wednesday 18th August - agony and ecstasy on the rowing lake
  7. Thursday 19th August - Starting to feel like the Olympics
  8. Friday 20th August - Deadlines, medals and Mexican waves
  9. Saturday 21st August - The waiting is over - finals day
  10. Sunday 22nd August - A jumble of emotions
  11. Monday 23rd August - the calm after the storm
  12. Tuesday 24th August part 1 - audience strikes and sounding off
  13. Tuesday 24th August part 2 - fun and games in the pools
  14. Wednesday 25th August part 1 - snippets of rowing
  15. Wednesday 25th August part 2 - Coming home.

  16. Monday 30th August - Epilogue: Welcoming the team back home

Sitting at the centre of a gathering tornado

The sensation of being at the Olympics is growing. I'm becoming accustomed to ringing in to my deputy editor, who lurks in the bowels of the MPC (main press centre, near the stadium) daily, to have a conversation about what will be on the front cover of the Telegraph that day. Every now and again a mile-high pile of newspapers is delivered to the reception desk at our media village - the English-language rags go first, or at least some of them do, which means I'm left with a choice between the Daily Wail and La Stampa, or fifteen excited-looking titles in an assortment of Arabic, Greek and Chinese. As my family know, I must be desperate if I choose to read the Snail. Yesterday there was a lone Telewag hiding under Der Zeit, so I pinched it quickly - a chance to see where they're sticking my articles in the Olympic centre-spread. No surprises there - second fiddle to Tim Foster. Humph. But his piece is a good one, and they do read better that way round, so fair enough.

Last night we attempted to escape from the Gulag (aka our media village) - have I told you it's based on two military holiday camps? Half of the BARJ (british rowing hacks) contingent is stationed in Aghios Andreas 1, the army bit, which is small, clean, and relatively well-organised, with several beaches, a free bar, its own fire engine, and not too far to walk to anywhere. This includes me, the Independent, the Times (who is working for the Olympics), the Guardian, and everyone BBC including his Redgraveship. Eurosport are out in the FISA hotel in nearby Nea Makri (the same one at which the entire German junior team got food-poisoning last year), and Mr Rowing News is commuting in from his own private island daily (I jest not).

A bunch of other rowing types, including the Glasgow Herald, Regatta's photographer on the job (Pete Spurrier), the Hebfotos pair and Mr Row2k, are in Aghios Andreas 2, the air force section, and it is very different from Ag 1. Ed jokes about how they made you erect your own hut, and it's not far off - much less completed, and vast - at least four times the size. You get about by taking the little shuttle train (which with typical Greek logic they call a bus), and in Ag 2 it's essential to wait for it, because you would wear your feet off and get thoroughly lost if you tried to find you own way home. The train loops through every section, including going past a retired plane, past baseball courts, their own unearthed Greek ruins, tents full of security people doing nothing, and a "little Chinatown" section full of Asian journos cooking stir-frys on their meagre patios with portable ring-cookers.

Anyway, we decided to take a taxi to Nea Makri, where I had found several good restaurants while at the junior championships last year. This was not as easy as it sounds. Meeting at the useful (and ailurophilic) taverna sandwiched between the security checkpoints for Ag 1 and Ag 2, we discussed the problem with the helpful ATHOC volunteers. "You don't want to take a taxi", they exclaimed. But we want to go to Nea Makri, we said. "Well the taxis can't come down here." We know, we said, can you get a taxi to the nearest place? "Oh, no problem, take the little train through the other camp, and we will have one waiting for you in the village." About thirty minutes and a full Gulag tour later, we strolled down a dusty street into the coastal village of La Costa, only to find no taxi. Of course.

We gave up the unequal struggle, and decided as time was getting on, to eat at the nearest decent restaurant. A few carafes of decent Greek red wine, and an abortive attempt to find a reasonable white, plus the odd souvlaki or two (barbecued kebabs), and we were happy campers again, ready to submit to the guards and make the lengthy trip back home.

Back at the course again this morning, and all sorts of thrills and spills. Literally, in some cases. With the C/D/E finals running, Argentina's W1x managed to overturn herself (none of us saw how) during the women's singles C final, and was brought back by the mid-course rescue boat. That was capped at the end of the session by Brazil's men's single sculler, who 'did a Hacker' (both hands off the sculls and pointing at the sky) when he won his E final - big mistake. Unfortunately he hadn't practised the important bit - picking the oars up again - and fluffed it, ending up in the drink and being collected by a concerned (and amused) umpire. The only person who commentated on it live was NZ ex-Olympic champion Rob Waddell: it lightened his day somewhat, because the contract his TV employers have to sell rowing coverage all over the Pacific Rim meant he was slogging away at the course heroically covering every single race while everyone else was packing up.

Another single sculler was in action two days before he had hoped to be, after German Marcel Hacker was sent packing to the B final. It looks as if he blamed it on the lack of his stuffed pig Borsky, who has been staying in the camper-van but had not yet made an appearance at the course. Come the B final today, Borsky was stuck firmly onto the stern canvas in front of Marcel's shoes, and could be seen looking back at the camera as Hacker left the start, and clearly enjoying his ride down to win the B final, ears flapping happily. A case of 'pigs might fly'?!

What else? Well, we had the Stupid Coloured Hair brigade, Slovenes Cop (blue bonce) and Spik (ridiculous little high ponytail above what looks like some kind of bandanna), and once the rowers had left the course, a whole lotta canoodling (you know, them canoodle things they paddle down rivers). The wind got up a bit, cross-tail, and the lakefront was full of broody coaches making sure their charges didn't bash into anything on their last trip of the day. It is so well worth watching the paddle sessions - I would go to the Worlds or Olympics just for that. You have a higher concentration of brilliant boats than anywhere else, and many, even when just doodling along at light pressure, look like a masterclass in how to row. You end up spotting big names by the dozen - hey there's Rutchow gliding along - that's the Danish lightweight four over on the far side - isn't that Ginn and Tomkins flowing down lane 3 (they are recognisable a mile away just from the way their boat oozes along seemingly on silk). Wow. If you ever get the chance to stay at a world-class rowing event when the crews are out, seize it.

One US crew came down doing a massive piece - at least 500 metres, which is pretty big for two days before the Olympic A finals. Burning along, pushing themselves to the limit. Way to wear yourselves out, guys. No, it wasn't the eight. Best comment of the week resulted: Oli Rosenbladt, quipping "That's either commitment, or a reason for commitment." Ha! Then, suddenly, here came the Canadian men's pair, going for an elaborately pushy layback paddle. Hang on, haven't they been disqualified? I ferret for info, and discover that they have taken their appeal to the independent Court of Sports Arbitration - pity they don't know it was set up and is run by Denis Oswald, he who is boss of the world rowing federation. According to one British commentator, the Canadian coach, Mike Spracklen, reckons there is zip chance of them getting anywhere, but they are adamant they want to try. [In fact it is dismissed again, so although they chose not to row the B final, there is now no chance they will be reinstated in a 7-boat A final.]

I'd better stop there - things got out of hand on Friday (of which more next time) and after much delay I am actually finishing this at the athletics stadium, having watched Kelly Holmes win her heat of the 800m a few metres in front of me. It's fun being press..... Now I've got to scoot back and catch some zeds before Saturday, first big A-final day at the rowing.

Rachel Quarrell at the 2004 Olympics.