Rivalry defines sport. Partisanship is what keeps us engaged. Without a sense of jeopardy – innate and investible, something that spectators and speculators can absorb alike – sport becomes fickle, fallible, a force that flatters to deceive. The collectiveness of cities rising up to meet each other on the field, around the track or up and down the river is inherently addictive; it brings credence to the notion that sport remains relevant in a world where economic and political pain seem the order of the day. Tribalism, insignia, mottos and mantras, chanting and singing and shouting and hollering – these are the ingredients of true sporting heritage. The colours of each faction bleeding into the very fabric of the event. Red, white, black – and blue.
The Boat Race is one of the oldest and most venerable sporting events, and the feud between Oxford and Cambridge – two of the UK’s most prestigious educational institutions – has dictated the cut and thrust of this iconic duel since 1829. Now in its 170th year for the men and 79th year for the women, both Light Blue and Dark Blue will once again take to the water with the weight of expectation heavy on their shoulders. There is no purer reflection of naked sporting drama than The Boat Race; physical strain laid bare across an unforgiving 6.8km course that charts a pathway through the beating heart of south-west London.
To fully understand the gravity of today’s events for all of these athletes, it’s important to reflect upon the journey that has led us to this tussle on the Thames. Endless miles clocked up on the water, training relentlessly through a long and cold winter, whilst balancing studies at two of the most demanding universities in the world. Fixtures and trials, internal and external, to assess pecking order and grind out every last ounce of speed. Returners branded and modified by loss, fixated on the redemptive qualities of victory. Newcomers, blinking into the intense blue blaze of Boat Race day, stepping out into this aquatic amphitheatre for the very first time. Coaches whose philosophy has been imprinted upon their crews and whose work product will be judged not in time or effort but in the fleeting glimmer of victory. A heightened sense of intra-collegiate tension with a ruling levied mid-season that certain athletes were not able to partake due to ineligible criteria. Now, these two heavyweights of the academic world meet in unholy matrimony with one goal etched painstakingly into their mind – to win the 2025 Boat Race.
For the women, the toss was won by President Annie Anezakis, who opted to race on the Surrey station. The immediate ramifications of this were that Cambridge, holders and winners of the past seven races, would have the immediate inside advantage curving around the Fulham bend, but the largest and most influential of the bends (curving past Harrods, underneath Hammersmith Bridge and on towards the Chiswick Eyot) would be in Dark Blue favour.
After a week of excellent weather, bathing London in springtime sunshine, Boat Race day dawned bright but breezier than previous days. As both boats arrived at the start, the overhead shots once again portrayed the enduring appeal of one of the UK’s most revered sporting match-ups – thousands of spectators lined the banks to see these two crews in action. Talk before the race was on record times – the flow of the incoming tide had sped up over the course of the previous few days.
In the opening few strokes, it seemed that Cambridge had taken a slight lead in an attempt to capitalise on their early station advantage. Umpire Sir Matthew Pinsent was called into early action, as Oxford veered over to ensure that the Light Blues could not get away. Pinsent was forced to intervene more meaningfully as Oxford, perhaps over-excited by the sheer chaos of noise and surge and spray, crashed into Cambridge; the red flag was raised as Sophia Hahn’s blade clattered into Oxford, causing her to catch a crab. Pinsent’s determination on proceedings was that a restart was required, with Cambridge taking their third of a length advantage into phase two.
Upon the restart in the looming shadows of Craven Cottage, Oxford cox Daniel Orton seemed to have learned few lessons from the previous encounter, creeping instantly into Cambridge water again. The Light Blues responded, as the two crews met again in the middle ground and Pinsent – who was perhaps the busiest man in south London for a few moments – was heard calling the crews apart. What was apparent was that Cambridge were trying to break the back of the race early and leverage their bend to the best of their ability. Moving past Harrods Depository, Cambridge had nearly a length but their advantage was slowly running out; the question was whether the Dark Blues could find impetus to recover the lost ground.
The pain etched on Light Blue faces, grimaces dappled against the springtime sunshine, was apparent; Oxford had refused to budge and still had overlap approaching Hammersmith Bridge. With the long, winding Surrey bend beginning to unfold, the Dark Blues – stroked by British Olympian Heidi Long – had a choice to make with overlap now diminishing; go now for fear of losing touch or hope that Cambridge could be reeled in later down the course.
The gap between the two boats continued to grow as they edged past St Paul’s School, denoting around halfway through the race. The ruthless nature of rowing is such that the loser cannot see nor hear their opponents, so the physiological and psychological challenge is immense; Allan French’s Oxford were in an unenviable position in facing a Cambridge crew who had a lead and had the backing of the bookies. Past Chiswick Eyot, where the crowds begin to thin, the distance remained relatively unchanged – Cambridge had a lead of around a length of clear water.
As relative quietude descended, it was Cambridge who had clearly done enough; their advantage was several lengths of clear water as both boats shot Barnes Bridge. The final bend, where the river narrows and the noise of the thronged thousands slowly comes back into contention, continued to carry the Light Blues on into the history books, buoyed by the imminent prospect of an eighth straight victory. For Oxford, the introspection must once again begin; how do you halt the steam train of Cambridge class, whose continued dominance of this fixture shows no sign of abating.
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