"Patience and perseverance have a magical effect before which difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish."
- John Quincy Adams
He was one lucky young racer. Talented for sure. And endowed with an impressive work ethic. But there are countless hard-working, talented young athletes out there who never make the grade. Rob Boyd had an ace up his sleeve though. He had someone in his corner who believed in him. And someone who could make a difference.
"When I reflect back on that time, it becomes very clear to me how fortunate I was," says Whistler Mountain Ski Club's newly appointed sport development manager. "Frankly, I'm not sure what would have happened to me as a ski racer if Glenn Wurtele hadn't taken me under his wing when he did."
We're talking 1979-80 or thereabouts. Boyd was a young teenager living in Vernon at the time. Wurtele was the coach of the B.C. Ski Team (and a resident of Vernon as well). Obviously the veteran trainer saw something he liked in the crazy-haired wild kid ripping up the local slopes. For it wasn't long before the young Boyd was invited to train with the provincial "stars" on Glen's elite team. And the rest, as they say...
Interesting too. Because from that moment on, the careers of both men became inextricably linked. "Yeah - I guess that's true," agrees Boyd. "When I moved up from the B.C. Team to the national team, there was Glenn. And because I knew he believed in me - because I realized he had my best interests at heart - I could just focus on ski racing and leave the rest to the coaches."
Boyd had his best results under Wurtele's tutelage - from his shocking early victory at Val Gardena in December of 1986 to his just-as-surprising come-from-behind win in his own backyard in '89. But when Glenn was kicked upstairs to take over the reigns of the men's team (both technical and speed), Boyd's performance began to lag. Suddenly that personal energy he'd been so used to plugging into wasn't there anymore. And he struggled.
There were injuries. And long painful recoveries. And scintillating comebacks - like his masterful third place in Kitzbuehel in '92. But after that: nothing. The mental edge that is so important at this level competition - the almost magical connection/trust between coach and athlete - was hard to re-ignite. No matter how hard he tried - no matter how much he worked and focused and twiddled with his gear - another World Cup podium never materialized. By the time he retired in 1997, he was tired of ski racing. Tired of the politics and the games and the pain of rehab. All he wanted to do was free ski again...
"I just never felt the same connection I had with Glenn with my other coaches," he admits. "Maybe they didn't believe in me anymore. Maybe they thought I was over-the-hill. Maybe it's just that they were Europeans. Whatever. It impacted my racing..."
It's a subject he's passionate about. "I really believe in promoting Canadian coaches for Canadian athletes," he says. "I think it's extremely hard for someone from another country to figure out our culture and then produce top performers." He sighs deeply. "But to be successful on that front, we've got to be just as focused on developing a cadre of top-level coaches in this country as we are in recruiting and developing ski racers!"
Boyd is a bit of an anomaly in the ski coaching game - particularly in Canada. Most former ski stars in this country are too busy making money to ever consider a life in ski coaching. The work. The hours. The abuse. The meagre pay. It just doesn't add up. Whether Felix Belczyk or Edi Podivinsky, Cary Mullen or Brian Stemmle, none have joined their old ski-racing buddy on the pro coaching train.
Yet it's the opposite in Europe. Remember Alberto Tomba? His coach was the great champion of the 1970s, Gustavo Thoeni. But then, being a ski coach in Italy or Austria is akin to being an NHL coach in Canada. And we know how much those guys make.
So why does he do it? Why does he put up with the low pay and long hours and cold feet and questionable future? Boyd laughs and laughs and laughs. "It's in my blood," he says. But then he gets serious again. "I really believe I can make a difference," he says. "And I still love skiing. Love passing on my knowledge to others. It's something I get a lot of personal satisfaction from."
Lucky WMSC. For in his new role there, the former national team coach gets to put many of his ski racing ideas into practice. His job description is a bit of a mixed-bag, but essentially he's in charge of recruiting racers and coaches, interfacing with the WB Ski School and their J4 skiers, and working with the club's different programs to ensure that there is continuity throughout the ranks. "I'm kind of like the club caretaker," he says with a mischievous grin. "I make sure that we all share the same terminology, that we use our video resources efficiently and that the club's inventory and equipment is all accounted for."
But that's only part of his new duties. For he's also been appointed manager of the soon-to-open Dave Murray National Training Centre on Whistler Mountain's Ptarmigan Run.
Talk about prosaic. A local ski legend managing racing facilities named after another local ski legend. But I digress...
Where was I? Oh yeah - Boyd and the DMNTC (I love acronyms!). "It's a big job," says Boyd. "I'm in charge of managing the facility, booking training sessions for different groups, liaising on snow quality with the W/B mountain crews and recruiting volunteers."
And all this on top of his club responsibilities? He sighs. "Yeah - it's going to be a lot of work." And then he laughs. "It's going to be an interesting winter for sure."
Lots of work, no question. But then Boyd has never really shied away from hard work. It's something that runs common throughout his family. "Must be our farming genes," he jokes. Still, it will be an interesting winter. "I'm already working on some new ideas," he says. His eyes gleam with pleasure. This is not a guy to sit on his butt and wait for ideas to come to him from others.
Like? "Well," he says. "Let's take the new rule in Canada that states you can't race downhill until you're 18 years old." He stops talking. Searches for the right words. "I understand why the rule was implemented," he continues. "It's all about safety. But it is going to put us at a disadvantage against the rest of the world. So how do we make sure our 18 year olds are ready for downhill racing? Easy - we make sure that they've been able to train starts and can already handle jumps and rollers and high-speed turns."
His vision is to simulate downhill training by creating a scaleable speed course (say on the new training centre run) that includes many of the features of a conventional downhill but in a shorter, safer format - "almost like a modified skicross track," he explains - so that kids can be gently (and intelligently) introduced to the concept of speed on skis.
"It's a no-brainer," he says. "And it's totally legal - the new rules don't forbid downhill training. Besides, it will be a great primer for the other disciplines as well."
He also believes there's a market to exploit on that front. "I think there are a lot of ski clubs who would consider coming to Whistler for an April or May speed camp if it was well organized and properly marketed," he says. And shrugs. "But that's in the future. For now, I just want to make sure the training centre gets off on the right foot."
Before we part, I have one last question. For most coaches, getting a job with the national team is like finding the Holy Grail. Yet Boyd has turned his attention away from the spotlight and glamour of World Cup competition to return to his roots - coaching young kids and mentoring up-and-coming coaches. Why?
He smiles. But doesn't answer for a long time. "It's just so much easier to get through to them," he says finally. "They have an open mind. They're curious. They're not afraid to try new things." He stops. Sighs again. Once more he searches for the most diplomatic way to state his point. "At 25," he explains, "an elite athlete's mind has closed a bit. It takes a very confident coach to really grab an accomplished racer and get buy-in. It might even mean putting up with a certain amount of friction and head-butting... And I guess I'd just had enough of that for a while."
So there you go. Boyd is back home and ready to put his considerable coaching talents to good use. And who knows what could happen on the slopes of WB? The "next great racer" might just be out there waiting for someone to discover her too...
