Kaw Rowers

If it was said once, it must have been said hundreds of times: what a perfect day for the Jayhawk Jamboree, the event on the Kaw River in which hundreds of college men and women raced their impossibly slender boats out on the water.

The racing itself had mostly to be imagined. The Kaw is not suited for head to head racing, so each group, say the novice women fours, started far upriver at fifteen second intervals, each team of rowers pulling their oars against the clock. The last few minutes of each team’s race was visible from Burcham Park, but without binoculars, all I could see was a distant effort and repeated precision oaring, bodies moving in unison, the shell slicing through the water.

In a sense, for me, after the race was over, was when it got interesting. Standing near the dock, I watched team after team pull carefully in, hoist their shells over their heads and march them in front of the boathouse, then dismantling the boats, loading everything onto trailers for the trip back to Wichita or Oklahoma or where ever. Teamwork and camaraderie was everywhere visible. Rowers pausing to stand arm across shoulder, smiling or looking stern, for parents and friends to capture the day with a smart phone.

This is college athletics. True student athletes. Testing their bodies and their ability to work together as teammates. Not for the TV cameras. Losing only against the clock for a moment. They will train to excel and race again.

I admired their dedication. If I can say so, with due sincerity, these rowers all looked like winners to me.

And it must be said, it was a beautiful day to be racing on the water, or watching on the banks of the Kaw.