Once a Rower, Always a Rower

What happens when a day of triumph turns sour? Not the sour of upsets and the empty necks of those leaving a race course without a winning medal. But the inexplicable fragility of life.

I just returned from a long weekend/short vacation to Philadelphia. In a weekend thought to be marked with the beauty of rowing, team camaraderie, cheering crowds, record times and citius-altius-fortius, another force decended upon Philly. Saturday afternoon on the Schuykill River, while anxiously awaiting the event finals, I and a couple thousand others witnessed tragedy.

After his boat crossed the finish line, clenching a national title in the men's lightweight 8+, Boston College's bowman's heart stopped beating. Rather than rowing to the award dock with 8 other teammates to receive a gold medal, he was carried there via motor boat and received CPR. Within 20 minutes, the national champion was pronounced DOA at the hospital.

I will never completely understand the feelings his family and teammates are now going through. But I do know, as do all other rowers who have spent time in competition, what Scott experienced in his final 2,000 meters of life. My thoughts and prayers to the Boston College Crew.

RIP Scott Laio.