M
y name is Lenny Futterman and I am a member
of the USA National Rowing Team. It feels odd
writing it down, to be honest. I am someone
who has dedicated his young life to a sport with no real
chance of financial gain, and through a lot of hard work and
stubbornness, became one of the top athletes in the country.
It certainly was not always this way.
Throughout my years at Saint David’s, I was not the most
talented athlete, to say the absolute least. I was a tall, oddly
proportioned kid with a huge afro and buck teeth. I would
routinely be on the bench. Ask any coach who is still at Saint
David’s and they will most likely say something along the lines
of, “He was a very nice and funny kid, but he was completely
useless at football, baseball, lacrosse, basketball, and soccer.”
My mother once summed up my baseball career by saying
“Lenny, you were a ‘dugout guy.’ You just were a great guy
to be around, but no one ever wanted to put you in the field.”
Point proven—I was no stud athlete in my younger years.
The one sport I was halfway decent at during my time at
Saint David’s was ice hockey. I played goalie on the team
formerly known as the “Rink Rats” until about Sixth Grade
when I started playing in a travel league in Long Island. I
was competitive enough that when it came time to go to
high school, I wanted to go to a New England Prep School,
which was renowned for both their academics and ice hockey
teams. I ultimately decided on Choate, where the coach (also
an admissions officer) assured me that I would be a natural
fit on the Varsity Team.
My freshman year I had a very solid tryout for the Varsity
Team, making it further than any freshman had before me
(allegedly). I played for the JV, having a blast, winning a few
games and making friends along the way. Just like at Saint
David’s, at Choate you had to play a sport every
trimester. I decided I would try rowing out,
while playing in a spring hockey league
a few towns over. Being a competitive
person, I enjoyed rowing, and seemed to
have a knack for it, but all it was to me
was a means to stay in shape for hockey. I
made it to one of the top JV boats by the
end of my first season, which seemed
good to me.
O ve r t h e s u m me r b e t we e n
freshman and sophomore year,
I attended a few high-level
c a m p s f o r h o c k e y,
including one hosted by Vadislav Tretiak, the infamous
Soviet goalie on the losing end of the 1980 Olympic games. I
pushed myself harder than I ever had before on the ice. I was
determined to make the Varsity. I traveled to Finland for a
month to play with their Junior National development team.
My hard work paid off, as the coach took my father aside and
tried to convince him to let me stay in the country and play
for the team full time.
Full of hope and confidence, I returned to campus in the
fall itching to get on the ice and earn my spot. I played in a few
“captain’s practices” throughout the fall, while I was rowing
in the fall crew program. For the first time, I had some of the
older kids telling me that I would be a shoo-in for the back-up
position (the starting position would undoubtedly go to an
older player who would later be drafted to the NHL).
Tryouts finally came and I felt that I had performed to
the highest level that I could have. I was playing like a man
possessed. Finally, I was called into the Coach’s office, just
like every non-returning Varsity player.
“Lenny, you played excellently this week, but I’m going
to give the backup spot to Scott. He’s paid his dues on the
JV for three years and probably will never
even start a game. We can talk next year
about your career.”
I was heartbroken. I had been instilled
with the values that if you are a good
man and work hard, you will achieve
your goals, and this just seemed
the complete opposite. I continued
playing for the JV team, posting my
best season to date. I thought about
what my options were for the future. I
had always enjoyed rowing, but
despite both coaches and
teammates telling me
I was gifted, I never
considered taking it
more seriously than
just as a training tool
for hockey. It wasn’t
until a conversation
with my dad over
Chinese food that
I came up with a
decision—I would
spend the next
summer in
Boston
rowing
instead of
playing
h o c k e y.
It was an
emotiona l