A month or two ago, in response to a post about an interview with UCF head coach Leeann Crain in which the lights were not mentioned, a couple of UCF rowers showed commendable loyalty and team spirit by commenting that they understood why the heavies were getting the spotlight and that they deserved it. One noted that "we did get 5th out of 12 teams and the heavies were ranked 20th out of well over 100 teams." While I certainly agree that the UCF heavies had a commendable season, I think this UCF lightweight is selling herself short. Let me tell you why.
First, given the genesis of this discussion, let me define a "competitive" crew as one with a credible chance to make the grand final at IRAs or NCAAs. In addition, at NCAAs, I am only talking about the DI grand final (more on that later). I am also going to make the assumption that boat speed among both lightweights and heavyweights is normally distributed. I haven't done the analysis, but I think this is a reasonable assumption. In any given year, particularly among lightweights, speed may not be normally distributed, but as a working assumption, I'm going with it. (Even if I'm wrong about this, it doesn't necessarily harm the theory because this assumption is used for illustrative, not probative, purposes.)
The NCAA Web site lists 86 DI schools with women's crew, 15 DII schools, and 43 DIII schools, for 144 total programs. Of those 144, 16 eights make it to NCAAs (DI eights; the assumption is that the DI eights are the fastest boats), and 6 make it to the final. Nonetheless, let's say that 20 (with a nod to UCF) heavyweight boats are "competitive." Twenty out of 144 is about 14%. That means that those boats are all more than one standard deviation from the mean heavyweight boat speed (in a normal distribution, 15.8% of boats would be one standard deviation or more faster than the mean). The rest of the heavyweight universe, which in a given year is slower than one standard deviation better than the mean, is, to use an honest but crass term, cannon fodder for the fast DI boats. I have more experience with (in) cannon fodder crews than I would like, and I can tell you that victories are just as glorious and defeats are just as painful, but you spend your season trying to win local duals, state championships, and make the finals at regional championships. You compare yourself with peers who, for one reason or another, are not those crews that are nationally competitive. You plug along, looking for that marginal improvement while hoping for a leap forward that finally makes you competitive. For many it comes, and there is movement into and out of cannon fodder territory.
The chart below illustrates this distribution.
(Recognizing the cannon fodder problem, the NCAA introduced DII and DIII championships, moving those programs onto their own curves, even as it killed serious DIII lightweight rowing. Because lightweights don't have separate divisions, however, I'm ignoring the distinction among heavyweights as well.)
I also assume that lightweights are normally distributed and that there are cannon fodder lightweight boats as well. As you move back from one standard deviation, however, something odd happens. (OK, now we're into theory, and I have no proof, but hear me out.) As the season progresses, the cannon fodder boats disappear. Sure, the 12th place boat at IRAs would get hammered by the 1st place boat, but the same is true of the heavyweights at NCAAs. The real fodder among the lightweights simply vanishes by the end of the season. Because I believe in the law of conservation of mass, I know those athletes have to go somewhere, and where they go, is into heavyweight crews. That's right, by IRAs most lightweight crews have self-selected themselves out of competition and the athletes are rowing in heavyweight boats. Most programs don't even try a lightweight eight because they know they can't be competitive with the Wisconsins of the world, and there is no other lightweight level. As the top lightweight crews plow through early season lightweight hopefuls, those defeated boats realize they're not competitive and fall back into the least restrictive category, and therefore the category that will always be available - heavyweight.
Without lower level championships, lightweight rowing is all or nothing. Yes, there's Dad Vail, but the Dad Vail champ can be pretty competitive at IRAs, meaning that it's a really fast boat. A lightweight boat of moderate speed doesn't have the option of satisfying itself with a DIII championship because there is no DIII championship. The coaches of these boats realize that it would be a waste of time and money to race them as lightweights all season and watch them get their brains beat in. The better option is to take the best rowers out of those boats, put them in the heavyweight varsity or 2V, and make those boats faster. The heavyweights MUST exist, but the lightweights are optional. If the optional boat is slow, you get rid of it and use all of your resources to make the mandatory boat less slow.
The chart below illustrates this, with a line drawn in that I'll call (because I'm an optimist) the Line of Hope. To the left of that line are those lightweight boats that have abandoned hope and moved their rowers into heavyweight boats. (We can argue about the placement of this line, but it exists.) In between the competitive line and the Line of Hope are the hopefuls, those crews hoping they can pull off the upset of upsets.
If the boats at IRAs are really the cream of the lightweight crop, rather than the only available boats, the time spreads from 1st to last should be similar to those spreads among the heavyweight cream of the crop. In 2005 and 2004 things didn't look so good for my theory. The spread between the winning boat and the sixth place boat was 34 and 37 seconds, while among heavies it was 6 and 8 seconds. In 2006 (the year that prompted this post), however, things changed. First to 6th among lights was 14.5 seconds and 1st to 6th among heavies was 14.4 seconds. From 1st to 12th among lights the spread was 37 seconds and from 1st to 6th among heavies the spread was 26 seconds. A dominant Princeton heavyweight boat may have skewed this a bit, but I think we can feel confident that the 2006 lightweight national championship was as competitive as the heavyweight championship.
You see, lightweights, this notion that the lightweight champ is the champion of a very small field is a canard. When you reach the mountaintop first, you don't look around and feel diminished because only 12 people came up behind you. You also count the scores of bodies lying on the slopes below. In lightweight rowing, the last breaths of the defeated are spent changing into heavyweight unis.
Is there room for improvement? Of course. There are still plenty of outstanding lightweight rowers who choose to row in good heavyweight programs. With a stronger lightweight league, perhaps those athletes would row as lightweights. Quite honestly, the lightweight spread should be tighter than the heavyweight spread and if we could get more programs to focus on lightweights it would be. But don't let heavyweights, heavyweight coaches, and the mainstream rowing media dictate your thoughts on this. If heavyweights didn't make fun of you, and everything else, they wouldn't be worth the label "athlete." Likewise, you have every reason to look down your nose at them. This is healthy. This is believing in yourself. This is knowing that what you do is special. This is knowing that you're pulling a 230 pound boat and a 120 pound coxswain down the river while weighing 130 pounds instead of 180 or 200 pounds. Lightweights and heavyweights should fight just like brothers and sisters because in the end, we're all one family. Just don't ever start believing everything your big sisters tell you. As for the rowing media, well, I think we've already seen that they're thought followers, not thought leaders.
Stop selling yourself short. The lightweight national championship is every bit as precious as the heavyweights' and you're about to get another chance to win it. The time is now - get off the erg, get on the water, and kick some ass.