It was mad to let Grobler go – now we are paying the price
➤ Allowing the inspirational coach to depart a year before the Games has contributed to these disappointing results
When I heard that Jurgen Grobler had left British Rowing, I went through something akin to the stages of grief – a bit of denial, some anger, a hope that he could be talked around and a bit of gloom.
The overriding feeling was that, surely, it could not have been the governing body’s decision. Why would you shed that level of medal-winning experience the year before an Olympics already shrouded by so much uncertainty? It seemed crazy to let a man with that level of expertise walk out of the building before a Games where everything is up in the air due to Covid.
The effect of allowing Jurgen to leave is, so far at least, writ large in the results: the first time he was not present, Britain’s run in the coxless four did not just end, but saw us fail to get on the podium at all.
People talk about British Rowing having this great production line of talent which has delivered multiple gold in events like the men’s coxless four and men’s eight, and heap praise upon the athletes who have ended up with medals around their necks, but the man who deserved the praise for that was Jurgen – not us.
He was the only consistent presence, setting the culture and selecting the crews. Yesterday was the first time since 2000 that a men’s coxless fours boat did not contain someone who had won gold at the previous Olympics. And the result? Fourth place, courtesy of a freak steering issue which seemed the result of exhaustion, wind and rough water.
I am not saying that the result would have been different had Jurgen still been in charge. His last decision in charge was to prioritise the men’s eight, so even if he had wanted more experience in one of the seats in the four, it would have meant changing his selection decision. But had he been in Tokyo, his presence and experience would only have been a positive.
Jurgen’s genius might not have been obvious to those watching from outside. He didn’t prioritise aesthetically beautiful rowing, and his mantra was to aid and empower athletes to coach themselves out of bad form and make the right decisions under pressure.
His brutal honesty was an acquired taste, and not everybody could or did get used to it. In 2002, Matthew Pinsent and I went to the World Championships and won the world title, breaking the world record in the process.
Now, generally, our view was that we would treat every victory like a defeat to ensure we set a new level. But that winter, we didn’t. I think both Matthew and I believed our own press, which allowed us to drift into the mindset of simply ticking the training sessions off. So when we arrived at the start of the 2003 season, a year out from Athens, we had drifted back into the pack. As much as we tried to save our season it was too late, and we finished fourth at the World Championships.
After that, Jurgen sat us down and gave us some home truths. He believed our average performance was no longer good enough to win so, on that basis, he was dropping us back into the selection mix for the fours.
It was pretty brutal: here you had two guys with 16 world titles and four Olympic golds between them (yes, Matt had three) being told they weren’t good enough and having to prove ourselves all over again. It hurt like hell but neither of us thought about questioning him, because we trusted his judgment. We knew it was our fault and Jurgen had recognised that – we had lost the right to question him.
Not that Jurgen was relentlessly critical. He knew when to dole out compliments, and when he did they meant so much more: this wasn’t like a parent pretending to their kid that their painting was a masterpiece when they have no idea what it’s meant to be. Jurgen’s words were never wasted, and resonated because of it.
He was also confident enough in his own ability that he was prepared to be questioned by his athletes, and to change his mind when he felt they had made the case. I remember having a series of arguments over the boat we used in 2002. He thought I was being a bad workman and blaming the equipment whereas I wanted to be using the same stuff as everyone else. He listened to my argument, and ultimately accepted it.
Watching the struggles of some of the British crews in Tokyo this week, I thought, if I was in one of those boats, the one man I would want to turn to and ask where we were going wrong would be Jurgen Grobler. Nearly 20 years after he last coached me I still go to him for life advice as I know I’ll get a straight answer.
If it was British Rowing’s decision, was there any justification for Jurgen not being in Japan? I do understand its need to get on with its succession planning. There was no obvious deputy to Jurgen and knowing that he planned to leave after these Games and with a curtailed three-year build-up to Paris, I can – just about – understand the rationale for making a change beforehand, on the basis that the good practices he had instilled in the rowers would see them through in Tokyo even if the man himself wasn’t there.
We will only truly know at the end of the Olympic regatta, but the deal-breaker will be how the men’s eight perform. They have the tools in their locker to get a result.
And, as a last word on Jurgen, I’m still waiting for that final stage of grief – acceptance – to kick in. I’m not sure it will.