Pinsent on a pedestal

He was the oarsman who beat everyone and won everything - except a fifth Olympic gold medal. He was the second most successful British Olympian of alltime but his partner happened to be the first. He was colossal but only in an era when a nation identified Steve Redgrave as its real colossus.

Of course, this shouldn't be the way Matthew Pinsent's amazing rowing career is categorised. His greatness as an athlete was such that he need bow to absolutely no one. Martin Cross, an Olympic champ who rowed with both him and Redgrave, told me yesterday he actually believed Pinsent to have been the better oarsman of the two.

Yet as he was expected to announce his retirement in Henley today, you could argue that Pinsent's magnificence was matched only by a certain misfortune that his four rowing golds in consecutive Olympics, a feat of sporting endeavour based on barely imaginable reserves of resolve, commitment, talent and courage, should be eclipsed by the miracle of Redgrave's nap hand.

It was only in Athens with that explosion of his tears following one last epic triumph with the Redgraveless four on Lake Schinias that Pinsent, regarded by his contemporaries as the greatest oarsman of his generation, finally stepped out of a gargantuan shadow to the applause of Redgrave himself, who declared his mate was "now getting his just rewards for being an unbelievable hero".

Yet now that the unbelievable hero was apparently going to conclude that the pursuit of Redgrave's record in Beijing was a quest too far, the likelihood was that, away from the grind of those daily, early-morning slogs up and down the Thames, Pinsent ought to be much better equipped than Redgrave to make a splash in his new world.

Talk to his friends in rowing and they think Pinsent will be a success in anything he turns his hand to, whether it be as a motivational speaker, a silver-tongued media man, or the eloquent voice of London's 2012 bid.

Should the capital win the Games, he could even end up welcoming the world here as chairman of the hosts' Olympic association.

As a history-making former athlete who is personable, gregarious and very bright - and has a real presence - it is little wonder Jacques Rogge, the International Olympic Committee chief, wants him back as part of the family.

It doesn't take much of a leap of the imagination to see him in a few years' time as an IOC member skilfully working the corridors of power like his fellow multi-medalled Seb Coe. "It's going to feel very different for him," pondered Alex Partridge, Pinsent's unlucky pal who lost his place in the gold-winning boat because of a collapsed lung. "For a dozen years of his life, he's known routine and a very regimented day. Yet he's a very talented, very clever guy and very hungry for life - and with that motivation, then whatever he does he'll be successful."

Partridge saw the power of that motivation in the boat. "You were always confident that, unless he was injured or really ill, Matthew could always produce more than anybody else out there. You could always rely on him to make a difference.

"I don't think anybody for a long time will come close to having his natural physiological ability, not in this country anyway. His natural make-up, his engine, those eight-andhalflitre lungs . . . honestly, it was a real honour and privilege to row with him."

Cross, a member of the coxed four which won gold in Los Angeles in 1984 alongside Redgrave, later rowed with Pinsent in the early 90s and believes he became the best in the world. "I think, actually, he was a better rower than Steve Redgrave and I think Steve himself would be prepared to admit that," said Cross.

"What he achieved was remarkable, winning all his medals in the tough man's seat, the stroke seat.

"He wasn't like some silky smooth footballer who does everything with fantastic technique but even in the technically most demanding boat, the coxless pair, he won consistently because of his physical power and intensity. He was great to row with and great for the team, not just in terms of his ability but also for camaraderie and sharing a joke. I think he's irreplaceable."

Cross reckoned Pinsent wasn't always the "angel" that we might have imagined, occasionally being too brusque and rubbing colleagues up the wrong way, yet in public he always seemed much more comfortable selling himself and his sport than the more shy and moody Redgrave.

Still, all the public school polish can't completely disguise the muleheaded, blinkered streak which such champions must possess. It never ceased to amaze Partridge that Pinsent could keep "finding the ability to always seemingly deliver a bit more when you didn't think it was possible."

Long may this extraordinary figure continue to keep surprising us. After all, there's an Olympic Games to be won next.