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Talk:Andrew Sudduth

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In 1985, there was no brighter new light shining in the sport of rowing. Just 23 years old, Sudduth had an Olympic and 2 world championship medals under his belt. That year, he won the Crash-B indoor rowing championships. Sudduth then stroked the Harvard 8 to the Eastern Sprints Championship, the National Intercollegiate Rowing Championship, and the Grand Challenge Cup at the Henley Royal Regatta.

Sudduth then sat down in the single scull at the 1985 World Championships and raced two of the best scullers ever, Karppinen and Kolbe, who were still in their primes, to the finish line, beating Kolbe and narrowly losing to Karppinen. Truly a magical year.

At the time, Redgrave had an Olympic Gold in the 4, and nothing else. Redgrave finished 12th in the same single scull race and would go back to sweep rowing in 1986. Lange was still in the double scull picking up his second World Championship medal at the same regatta.

Though his rowing record is not as golden as Redgrave's, Lange's, Karppinen's or Kolbe's, (life is not always fair) Sudduth's talent was exceptional and comparable.

To an Athlete Dying Young by A. E. Housman--(1859-1936)

The time you won your town the race,
We chaired you through the market-place;
Man and boy stood cheering by,
And home we brought you shoulder-high.

To-day, the road all runners come,
Shoulder-high we bring you home,
And set you at your threshold down,
Townsman of a stiller town.

Smart lad, to slip betimes away,
From fields were glory does not stay,
And early though the laurel grows,
It withers quicker than the rose

Eyes the shady night has shut,
Cannot see the record cut,
And silence sounds no worse than cheers,
After earth has stopped the ears:

Now you will not swell the rout,
Of lads that wore their honours out,
Runners whom renown outran,
And the name died before the man.

So set, before its echoes fade,
The fleet foot on the sill of shade,
And hold to the low lintel up,
The still-defended challenge-cup.

And round that early-laurelled head,
Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead,
And find unwithered on its curls,
The garland briefer than a girl's.

Reference

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