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ROW IN WISDOM

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

It is possible that there are ways of spending a more strenuous few days than Commencement Week in Cambridge, but they must be comparatively few. Leading the list of such exceptional pastimes would rank the activities of the men who will man the Crimson sweeps on the turgid waters of the Thames tomorrow. Fortunately, from this point of view their number is small, but since it follows quite naturally that the reward is sweet in proportion to the number which shares the same, we pause to commiserate but remain to applaud. You nine men of the crew, all honor to you!

For some several years now, specifically since the arrival at New Haven of the rowing Messiah from the West, the cry of springtime in Cambridge has been, "This is the Year". In these same half dozen years Harvard crews have rowed as all crews row,--whole-heartedly, even valiantly. Some have been beaten badly, others have been kept with difficulty in the wake of Eli craft, but each year the result has been much the same and the early war cry has changed to the mournful notes of "Next Year". Thus it is with considerable trepidation that we utter the words, "This must be the Year".

There are several reasons for the conviction behind this expression of faith in the necessity of things. The first is a far cry even viewed in the all-important light of psychology, and has not particular validity. No Harvard crew, and for that matter no Yale crew either, has even won consecutively for more than six years. Pause then to consider that the lean years have expired and the days of plenty are about to set in. Superstitious souls may take this for what it is worth though it seems hardly worth any very substantial wagers in itself. A second and certainly more considerable reason is Coach Brown, who after a successful preliminary season in his first year as moulder of the varsity rowing destinies, reaches the objective and critical test of the season tomorrow. The third reason, and rather more important than psychology and coach, is the crew of eight oarsmen and a coxswain who will carry the Crimson colors at historic New London. The Harvard eight this year is pre-eminently worthy of confidence. The unusual size, strength and speed of its members we can understand, but there are other more intangible attributes suggested by the sporting experts by terms and phrases such as "flexible", "graceful", "minimum of effort", "smooth running" etc., which conveys an impression of something higher and finer than the mere drudgery of pulling an oar through the water.

It would be as futile to dwell on the necessity of winning tomorrow's classic as it would be to admit of any philosophical apathy toward its results. Races, after all, are for the purpose of being won Whether or not Harvard wins tomorrow is of no great import as regards the years to come or even next year, but since only one side can win, and since the winning will bring to both participants and adherents considerably more pleasure than the alternate state,--may the best crew triumph and may our crew be the better crew.

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