We've lost a piece of the city

Dad Vail gone? Philly may as well have lost the soft pretzel.

In case you haven't heard, Dad Vail, the largest and one of the most prestigious collegiate regattas in North America, is moving to Rumson, N.J. It's the economy: not enough local corporate sponsorship, and not enough money coming from the city to cover the event's cost. Rumson officials pledged $250,000 to Dad Vail's organizers. That was enough.

But Dad Vail belongs in Philly. It's been held on the Schuylkill every spring since 1953.

My father rowed on the Schuylkill, and he imbued in me an appreciation for the sport and the water. I first went to the regatta in 1964, when I lived in East Falls, a neighborhood of snug rowhouses that slopes down to the Schuylkill. East Falls has deep roots in rowing. Bricklayer Jack Kelly Sr. and fellow Fallser Paul Costello won Olympic gold medals in rowing in the 1920s. Jack Kelly Jr. won at the prestigious Henley Royal Regatta in England.

We are losing much with Dad Vail - a showcase event tantamount to the Penn Relays. Dad Vail draws more than 100,000 fans to the banks of the Schuylkill to watch more than 125 colleges, 520 boats, and about 3,300 athletes, both men and women, compete in 165 races.

I've been out on the river at 5:30 in the morning to watch the Temple University crew team prepare for Dad Vail. I've seen how much rowing in Dad Vail means to the Temple kids, many of whom come from high schools in Philly.

Temple University crew coach Gavin White, whose team has won 16 of the last 22 titles in the heavyweight eight, Dad Vail's jewel race, told me: "The Dad Vail is everything. It's the only race that matters. You can lose every other race, but if you win Dad Vail, you've had a great season. You've won the national championship."

We will also be losing an economic flurry. Restaurants, hotels, stores, and tourist spots thrive during the event.

Dad Vail also creates an environment of fellowship. There's little hostility among the athletes and fans during the regatta. It's just one big, spirited celebration stretching for two miles along the banks of the Schuylkill.

Perhaps what we lose most, though, is a piece of the city's soul. Dad Vail is a harbinger of spring in Philly. Cherry blossoms are blushing along Kelly Drive, the banks of the river are turning green, and the sun is shining on the water. The rowers cut a majestic swath through the river, their oars slicing in and out in a rhythmic display of power, speed, and grace.

Dad Vail is much more than the stroke of those oars. It helps define Philadelphia.