Our Rowing Tales range from the sublime to the ridiculous. Let’s start with ridiculous.
Matt McQuillan, a British International from the late 1990s, recalls a day when he was strolling along the Thames Embankment in Putney, just upstream from London, heading back to the train station in Fulham.
Don’t Mind Me!
As I was wandering past The Duke’s Head, I saw Garry Herbert in a very smart jacket looking out at the river with his little wee arms leaning on the railings, and I thought, “Oh, it’s Garry Herbert! I’ll go and say hello!”
So, I grabbed him around the neck – because, unless I bent down, it was a lot harder to grab anything of Garry. I slapped him on the head and said, “Garry! How are you doing?”
Little wee Garry just looked up at me . . . and from behind me I hear, “Cut!”
I turn around, and there was this massive camera crew with all these sound booms doing background shots for the next weekend’s Boat Race, where Garry would be a commentator.
I patted his hair back down.
“Don’t mind me! . . . Nice to see you, Garry.