Rowing

At Poughkeepsie; where rain made the Hudson gloomy and smooth, and at New London, where $45,000,000 worth of yachts were crowded into the mouth of the Thames, were rowed last week the two great rowing races of the year.

At Poughkeepsie Columbia was the favorite. Columbia had won its early season sprint races so easily. But there was a rumor that the boat had gone stale. Cornell, with baldheaded, 30-year-old Pete McManus in the waist of the shell and seven other heavy, experienced men bending to the barks of big-voiced little Coxswain Burke, had a splendid chance. Syracuse, with six veterans and the lightest crew in the race, was in the outside lane, least protected from the wind. Washington, having beaten California, seemed to be the best of the three Western crews. Wisconsin rows only in the Poughkeepsie race and this year's crew was said to be the best that had ever come from Madison. Navy, Penn and M. I. T. were not really considered to have a chance, except that any crew has a chance in a race two miles longer than the regattas that lead up to it.

The river stretched down from the starting line dark and smooth as a mirror, dimpled by the rain. The crews splashed away to a fair start, with the Navy ahead for a second, then Pennsylvania, then Washington. Washington kept the lead and pushed three lengths ahead of the Navy in the first mile. Coxswain Burke was keeping the Cornell boat close to Syracuse. The Columbia boat was going badly, rowing a high, laborious beat without much run between the strokes.

In the second mile, Navy pushed out from the field, trying to keep up with Washington while the other shells slipped back. For a time Washington kept on gaining, rowing 36 to Navy's 34, but by the end of the second mile Navy was only a length and a half behind, still rowing a lower beat of the long, stylized Glendon stroke. With a mile and a half to go, Navy was less than a length behind, still gaining. The Washington stroke, John Ginger, bothered by having to watch the Navy boat as well as Cornell, stepped up his stroke to 38. In the Cornell boat, Burke had stopped watching Syracuse and was telling his crew that the Navy would surely crack in a minute.

The Navy boat passed Washington at the start of the last mile and Coxswain Burke told his sweating men to row, row, row after that Navy shell. The last half mile was a wildly exciting match between the two, with Washington struggling to keep up with Cornell. The Navy stroke, Ray Hunter, could see both boats laboring along behind him. When Cornell began to gain he sent the Navy stroke up to 40 and kept it smooth across the finish, which he crossed to the absurdly disconsolate hooting of a destroyer's fog horn. Cornell was only a length behind, Washington third, the rest of the shells strung out up the river--California, Syracuse, Penn. Columbia, inexplicably ragged and ineffectual, finished seventh, just ahead of Wisconsin. M. I. T. was last.

Coach Richard ("Dick") Glendon of Navy, whose son, Richard ("Rich") Glendon Jr. coaches Columbia, had thought well of his crew but was satisfied to watch the race from the observation train. When it was over, pleased at a result which contradicted rumors that he was too old to function, he entrained with his son for their farm on Cape Cod, where he planned to spend the summer playing checkers.

At New London, The crew race between Harvard and Yale, begun in 1852. is the oldest college sporting event in the U. S. It was attended this year, as usual, by a round of post-commencement gaieties, drunken parties in the Griswold Hotel, highball parties on board almost a thousand boats, picnic parties along the banks of the Thames. On Herbert L. Pratt's white yacht Whisper, dressed up in yachting gear, were Siam's King Prajadhipok & Queen Rambai Barni. The King followed the Junior Varsity and Fresh man races in the referee's launch, snap ping about him in all directions with a moving picture camera.

For the first time in the nine years since Ed Leader brought Washington's rowing tricks and a surly, inspirational coaching technique to Yale, Harvard was the favo rite. Yale's chances, with a varsity that has been weak all season, were further diminished when four men were dropped for smoking cigarets, drinking beer.

It was 8 p.m. before the judges considered wind and tide proper for the race upriver. Whatever possibility there might have been that Leader had been able to round his crew into form at the last minute disappeared almost as soon as the two shells pulled away. Harvard spurted for a hundred yards, got a length's lead, increased it gradually for the next three miles. Goodale, the Yale stroke, sent his beat up to 35 in a frantic effort to catch up. The Harvard boat, six pounds heavier on the average, with good Harvard names in every slide except the dark-headed sophomore stroke Gerard ("Killer") Cas-sedy, let Yale begin to gain. Cassedy, son of a onetime Cambridge plumber, nicknamed "Killer" because of the terrific stroke he sets for the Harvard aristocrats in back of him, let the Yale bow creep up to within a deck of the Harvard stern. Then he raised his beat to 36, the Harvard scions responded, and over the line they slid two and a half lengths ahead. Jack Hallowell, the Harvard captain, collapsed and had to be lifted out of his seat, carried ashore in a launch. In the Yale boat, Bill Garnsey, No. 4, nearly collapsed in the last quarter-mile. Sheldon Foster, bow, finished the race almost unconscious but still trying to wave his oar.

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