Rowers dominate with men winning gold and women silver

A rowing victory in the men’s eight paves the way for a medal rush to make all British hearts beat proud

THERE could not have been a better place to start a bullion rush. Alongside the lagoon in downtown Rio, fringed by soaring hills, with Christ the Redeemer casting an eye over the proceedings, the national anthem rang out across the glittering water. In the most sublime of sporting venues, God Save the Queen was belted out by nine members of the British Olympic team. They had just won the men’s eight, the blue riband event of the rowing regatta and together with their cox, the eight champion oarsmen stood loud and proud, singing on the podium after receiving their medals from Thomas Bach, the president of the International Olympic Committee. This was the moment when all their effort and muscle, sweat and tears found purpose and fulfilment.

And it was our moment too. The man in the Union flag trousers in the packed grandstands beside the course’s finish line; the gaggle of supporters alongside him waving their red white and blue; the millions watching on television back in their homeland, relishing the sight of fellow countrymen on top: this was for us. Super Saturday – what promised to be the most decorated 24 hours in British sporting history – had got off to the most golden of starts.

Soon the action picked up across Rio. The women’s eight secured the silver medal – one of ten near misses so far recorded by the British team. Theirs was an achievement that allowed their veteran crew member Fran Houghton to retire glowing in satisfaction after competing in five Games. Andy Murray guaranteed he would win at least silver when he put himself once more in the final of the tennis, a tournament he won in 2012 and which he values as high as any grand slam.

Then in the velodrome Laura Trott, the elfin cyclist with steel-girders for calves, set off with lynx-eyed certainty in pursuit of her goal to become the first British sportswoman to win three Olympic golds. As part of the GB quartet, Trott was taking part in the team pursuit, that gruelling chase round the boards, in which riders hurtle by at absurd speeds in Red Arrows-like formation, almost touching the wheel of the team mate in front. Trott and her team mates were up against the toughest opponents from the USA. But they were no match for these Britons. To a surge of noise from Union flag waving enthusiasts in the arena GB took the lead and never relinquished it, breaking the world record in the process. It was ruthless, sure footed, strong. And more to the point, never for a second in doubt.

Meanwhile, in the athletics stadium Jessica Ennis-Hill, Mo Farah and Greg Rutherford warmed up ahead of their defence of Olympic titles won four years ago in London. Back in Britain Tracey Johnson was ready to watch her daughter Katerina JohnsonThompson go for gold in the heptathlon. She had more than a chance. After all, in the earlier stages of the competition KJT as she is known had broken the British high jump record. And that was but one of seven athletic disciplines the girl who had taken up football as a kid because she didn’t fancy ballet has mastered.

“I wish you all the luck in the world,” Mrs Johnson wrote in a letter she had given her daughter to be opened on the day of competition. “And, whatever happens, know that, as always, I am very proud of you – not just for your athletic achievements but, most importantly, I am proud of the humble, grounded, wonderful woman you have become.”

Pride, passion and prestige: for the British in Rio this is threatening to become the most dazzling of times. Because Super Saturday was not an isolated moment of success. It followed Fantastic Friday, Wonderful Wednesday and not all that bad Monday. Gold has been the favoured hue of the British almost from the moment the opening ceremony introduced us to the athletes lining up behind Murray flourishing the flag in his GB team uniform.

It began with Adam Peaty, churning through the swimming pool so quick his rivals could have hired speedboats and still not caught him. Then came Jack Laugher and Chris Mears, surprising us all – and themselves – winning gold in the synchronized springboard diving. And Joe Clarke, tearing down the whitewater canoe course in his kayak, producing handbrake turns in the churning water to sashay his way to gold. These were victories picking up huge television audiences back home. 8.9 million people watched the BBC coverage of Laugher and Mears triumphing on the boards. That’s roughly 8.899 million more than had heard of the pair before the contest.

Then the rowers and cyclists took over. As the men’s sprint team hurtled round the velodrome to triumph, in weather more Colwyn Bay than Copacabana, a drenched and windbattered Helen Glover and Heather Stanning became the first British women to defend an Olympic title, miles out ahead in the rowing pairs. There followed the cycle race that summed up British endeavour, that summed up the refusal to quit. In an incredible race in the team pursuit, described by The Telegraph’s cycling correspondent Tom Cary as the most exciting sporting event he had ever seen, a quartet of Sir Bradley Wiggins, Ed Clancy, Owain Doull and Steven Burke broke the world record as they belted round the wooden floor of the velodrome. That they beat the Australians, who had led all the way until overwhelmed by Wiggins’s unfailing determination, only added lustre to the moment. This was the Ashes on wheels. And the Aussies were vanquished.

After he had received the fifth gold medal of his career, Wiggins was greeted in the velodrome by the two men he had just overhauled at the top of the British Olympic medal board. Sir Chris Hoy and Sir Steve Redgrave beamed in delight for the Wiggins record, before posing for pictures with him. There is a camaraderie, a shared sense of excellence among British Olympians, a bond that continues long into retirement.

To see the trio of sporting knights of the realm gathered to toast success, however, was something those of us of a certain age never thought we would see. For anyone brought up in the Seventies and Eighties, the Olympics were about the plucky Britons coming fourth. Things reached their nadir at the Atlanta Games in 1996 when Redgrave was responsible for delivering the only gold the entire team managed between them. Now, 20 years on, at the end of the first week, we have more golds than several countries will gather through the whole Games. One of which is Brazil, in possession of no more golds than Singapore or Fiji.

That is a crushing disappointment for the hosts. What the locals wanted more than anything was success. Something to unite a fracturing, dislocated nation. Something to enthuse more than the tiny, well-heeled minority sitting in the Olympic stadium stands. Something to give a sense of collective joy. Something a bit like the British have.

Everything changed when John Major introduced the National Lottery. At a stroke he beefed up the sporting landscape of our country. Suddenly, thanks to the weekly donations made by those seeking a frankly statistically ludicrous jackpot, British sport was given the gift of money. Never mind the state-sponsored doping of the Russians, here was something far more effective: people-backed finance. Athletes who were previously obliged to juggle their jobs with their sport could go full time, supported by full-time coaches and a gathering swell of resources in sports science and technology.

In the sports at which we had a traditional penchant – generally those that involved sitting down: rowing, cycling, sailing and equestrianism – it propelled our representatives to the top. We became world beaters. Rowers, sailors, cyclists and horse riders dominated their events. When they arrived at the Olympics, gold became the established British currency.

And it was not just the sedentary that benefitted. Swimmers, hockey players, runners and jumpers all of them had the opportunity to be world class. So much has success become the expectation, the GB team has come to Rio with a backroom member whose specific role is to “Manage Victory”. Her task is to negotiate our medal winners through the host of media and commercial opportunities that come their way after stepping on the podium. This week, she has been the hardest worker in Rio. “We have all

‘We have a lot more to do but we have every confidence in the sports and talented individuals on the team’

been incredibly proud to watch our athletes in the opening days of these Games, and we’re naturally delighted for everyone that has achieved an Olympic medal or a personal best,” Mark England, chef de mission of Team GB said.

“We have a lot more to do in the coming days but we have every confidence in the sports and talented individuals on the team.”

More to do, more to come: there’s a thought. And as the further action unfolds this week in athletics, sailing, hockey and triathlon, those back home can watch it all with something approaching optimism. We can follow our representatives as they take on the best and not hide our eyes. Four years on from the London Games we thought would inevitably mark the very summit of collective achievement, our team has improved yet again. Right now in Rio, Brexit Great Britain stands third in the medal table behind the United States and China. It may seem unnecessarily harsh to knock our footballers by making a comparison, but what a difference it is to observing the World Cup or European Championships, at which the highly paid merely fail to live up to our elevated expectation.

Here in Rio, our fellow countrymen, young, fit, polite and invariably delivering are serving as the finest ambassadors for our national values as we could wish for. Britain’s golden generation, we salute you.

‘Most importantly, I am proud of the humble, grounded, wonderful woman you have become’