Harry Parker was probably the most important figure in American
rowing of the past century. His heavyweight crews at Harvard
topped the leagues more consistently than any other team (they
won the Eastern Sprints regatta, against most of the top college
crews, more than three times as often as their nearest rival).
From the time they miraculously won the 1963 Harvard-Yale Race at
the end of his first year at the helm, his varsity didn’t lose a
race for six years, and they didn’t lose to Yale until the Reagan
administration. He was the first US National Team coach, and
oversaw five Olympic teams. He coached the sons of his great
oarsmen from the 60’s and 70’s, and at age 70 was still putting
the sons to shame on a bicycle, or running the steps of the
Harvard Stadium. He was respected by all, revered and adored by
his rowers, and yet no one seemed to know him. The persistent
myth was that he hardly said a word, and that his powerful
mystique alone made his oarsmen great and their boats go fast.
Though a fundamentally compelling figure, Parker’s famous
reticence means that few managed to spend much time close to him.
Since he made no attempt to explain himself, legends abound: he
never got older; he could control the weather; he could walk on
water. The Sphinx of the Charles: A Year at Harvard with Harry
Parker takes the reader not only inside the Harvard boathouse,
but into the coaching launch with Parker. We see how he
coached—how many words he actually uttered—as he guided his team
through a year of training, and hear about his life in the sport.
We see a paradox: Parker remained remarkably constant over the
last forty-five years, yet he constantly evolved, changed his
style, and used every means at his disposal to build champion
crews. The Sphinx of the Charles goes inside the rowing world in
a way hasn’t been done before, putting the reader in the
passenger seat next to one of the most successful coaches of all
time. Parker is a historical icon, part of a tradition that goes
back to the beginning of intercollegiate athletics in America.
His story needs to be told.
The Sphinx of the Charles is fundamentally a chronicle of a year
with the Harvard team and a profile of Harry Parker as he was,
five years before his death: comfortable in his position as elder
and master of the sport, reflective but not nostalgic, aged but
nearly impervious to aging. It is driven by Ayer’s own
observations of Parker from his seven years of coaching and
training at the Harvard boathouse, but especially from one
academic year, 2008-9. he shadowed him for a few days every week
from September to June, observing practices both on and off the
water, and interacting with the team. The present tense of the
narrative reflects this immediacy, but also the sense that Parker
has endured and continues to endure. And though The Sphinx of the
Charles is not a biography in the usual sense, Parker’s life and
career were rich and extraordinary and they must be explored.
Thus, each chapter carries the reader another month through the
training year at Harvard, with vivid descriptions of team
practices and a sense of progress towards the spring racing
goals. From the passenger seat next to Parker we watch the rowers
tackling the daily workouts, honing their mental and physical
stamina along with their bladework, always trying to beat their
teammates in the crew next to them, under Parker’s watchful eye
and ever-present megaphone. Parker makes asides in the launch
that the rowers will never hear: remarks about the crews and
their progress, passing wildlife, memories of his life in rowing,
the river and its history, the sunlight on the water. Intertwined
with the narrative are historical perspective, descriptions of
the boathouse and the river, profiles of other coaches at
Harvard, and impressions from rowers and coaches who worked with
Parker over the previous forty-five years. Newspaper and magazine
articles reveal how Parker was depicted, and how he revealed
himself, to the rowing world and the public. The reader sees how
Parker evolved and yet remained consistent. Parker was
responsible for turning college crew into a three-season sport:
varsity rowers now practice every day from September to early
June. There are long “head” races in the fall, including the
famous Head of the Charles in Boston. The winter months are a
period of tough training on rowing machines and indoor “tanks,”
lasting until the ice breaks up on the river. The official season
of “sprint” races doesn’t start until April, and includes two
championship regattas, the Harvard-Yale Race, and (if they win
one of the championships) the Henley Royal Regatta in England.