Sir Steve Redgrave: I'm no superhero

http://youtu.be/dgmLwkFH_ZI

It’s a long, deep breath as the sports hall echoes to the sound of Shropshire youngsters dreaming their own Olympic dreams.

Dodgeball is the order of the day. Not quite an Olympic sport yet – but you never know . . .

In the midst of this balmy Shropshire afternoon, Sir Steve Redgrave ponders his place in British sporting history.

“You know,” he says eventually, “It’s almost as though there are two of me.

“There’s the person who other people think I am – the superhuman superhero who wins all the medals.

“But I almost don’t recognise him, it’s like he’s someone else. I wonder who he is.

“But I guess that’s me too. Then there’s me. I’m interested in helping the youngsters.

“I had a terrific teacher who encouraged me to row. I wasn’t very academic, but I had a person who inspired me and who brought out the best of me.

“I like youngsters to know that there is a sport for them, that they can achieve their potential.

“They don’t have to play football or rounders, there’s something for everyone.”

“If you have a passion for something then the better you will become. It really is practice makes perfect and the more you practice the better you become. The more time you can put in the better you can become at it.”

“There is a sport or activity out there that will suit everybody. The message is that it does not matter about ability.”

Sir Steve reveals he had an ordinary schooling – despite rowing’s reputation as an upper class pursuit. He went to Marlow comprehensive and had a school master who was passionate about rugby and rowing. “Education does not come easily to me and I tried to avoid it. “

Sir Steve, who is dyslexic, said: “I struggled academically and found it quite difficult, so finding something I was good at was very important for my confidence and self-esteem.”

“I would never have chosen rowing as a kid growing up. We had a rowing regatta but for me that meant the fair was coming. I felt rowing was not for me it was for the privileged few but wherever there is water there is a rowing club.

“For me, I wanted to do rowing because it got me out of school, then I realised it was fun and I started enjoying it.”

He said in their first season at school in Marlow they won all their races and it ‘was brilliant’ but they were complacent during their winter training.

“When the racing season came again we did not win as many races and that was hard to take. After that we trained hard and won everything in our category.”

Wide-eyed youngsters at Phoenix School in Dawley, Telford, soak up every word as he speaks to them about achieving their dreams.

He is due to carry the Olympic torch through Henley next month and someone asks whether he would be lighting the flame at the opening ceremony in 38 days’ time.

“I’d like to be involved,” he offered. “But the truth is, I don’t know.

“I know that I’m the bookmakers’ favourite, but that will probably guarantee that I don’t do it!”

The five-time Olympic Gold medallist worked out with a group of 20 youngsters, jumping over mini obstacles to sharpen up his reflexes before using his giant shoulders to hurl the ball.

At 50, he still looks in great shape – and even though he feels he now has ‘a bit of a tummy’, it’s barely noticeable.

Neil Gregory, Phoenix School’s sports teacher, couldn’t believe it. “If you’d have told me I’d be running a session with our greatest Olympic hero

I’d have laughed. It was an amazing session, I’ll never forget it.” Sir Steve matched the intensity of the 13- and 14-year-olds who were jumping up and down and hopping side to side.

Mr Gregory, happily, thought better of telling him to speed up. After all, you don’t tell the nation’s most iconic Olympic champion how to get into shape, do you?

And anyway, since his final Olympic gold medal in Sydney’s Coxless Four on September 23 2000, he’s lost none of his competitive spirit.

He told a packed assembly hall: “I can’t wait for the London Olympics to start. I’m 50 now, but if I was ten years younger I would hope that I’d be in contention to compete.

“I remember winning in a home World Championships in 1986 and that was an incredible feeling. I would have loved to have taken part in a home Olympics.”

As Mr Gregory’s dodgeball-themed session wound down, Sir Steve made his way from the school gym to the assembly hall.

The walls were decorated with a gallery of inspirational Olympic photographs, featuring such stars as Jessica Ennis, Mo Farah and Rebecca Adlington. Hundreds of youngsters were waiting for him, sitting neatly cross legged, as he entered with Phoenix headteacher Neil Stonehouse, and a round of applause broke out.

“He is one of the greatest sportsmen of all time,” Mr Stonehouse said, by way of introduction. “You may be too young to remember him, but your parents, or your older brothers and sisters, they’ll all know who he is.”

Mr Stonehouse played a short DVD, featuring the highlights of Sir Steve’s career. Youngsters sat rapt. Nobody shuffled, nobody giggled, nobody made their friend laugh.

“Who’s looking forward to the Olympics?” asked Sir Steve.

Hundreds of hands shot into the air. “And who has a ticket?” a small handful of youngsters responded.

Sir Steve delivered a speech, explaining that youngsters could achieve their dreams if only they worked hard enough.

And then he took questions from the floor.

Someone asked how many medals he thought Team GB would win.

“Twenty-two,” he said. “I think we’ll finish behind China and America, we can’t beat them.

“Russia should be third, but it’s possible to beat them. And I think we’ll be ahead of strong nations like Germany, Australia and Canada, as well as Cuba and Romania. I think we’ll do really well in the Paralympics, too, and finish second. We’ll win a lot of medals there.”

Later, as he stood quietly outside the gymnasium fire door, a brave youngster approached, paper and pen in hand.

“Please could I have your autograph?” she said. Sir Steve, who was in the county as an ambassador of Matalan’s Sporting Promise campaign, smiled and dedicated a signature to her. A group of teachers watched in awe as Sir Steve also handed out certificates and congratulatory messages.

Even in the hard-bitten world of comprehensive schooling, they realised that it was a red letter day and that they’d been graced by one of the sporting world’s true immortals.

As the children rounded up their session, Sir Steve stooped to grab a dodgeball, caressing it before launching it with perfect technique.

It thuds into the hall wall like a rock thrown by Thor, drawing gasps of wonderment from the youngsters.

Maybe he is that superhero after all.