Emma Twigg on the podium after winning silver in the single sculls. Photo / Photosport
By Kris Shannon in Paris
Emma and Tommy Twigg each received something to treasure after the final day of rowing competition at the Paris Olympics.
For Mum, it was a cuddle with her 2-year-old son, whom she hadn’t seen all week.
For Tommy, the prize was “a little bit of metal to play with in his toy box”.
That metal represented the culmination of Twigg’s return to rowing, another reward for believing she always had the ability to be an Olympic champion.
The first came at Tokyo in 2021: a gold medal replacing her previous status as a two-time fourth-placed “failure”.
Then, after she and wife Charlotte welcomed a son, Twigg continued to chase a second trip to the podium, achieving that aim with silver in the single sculls final on Saturday, her sacrifices worthwhile.
Having said goodbye to Tommy when leaving for a pre-Games training camp in June, the Twiggs’ reunion to begin the week was brief. So it was understandable that one thing was on the rower’s mind once off the water at Vaires-sur-Marne Nautical Stadium.
“I’m looking forward to a cuddle,” said Twigg, having waved from the pontoon to Tommy, Charlotte and her parents in the stands. “He looked really confused that I was down there and he couldn’t see me.
“I saw him on Monday and gave him a cuddle because I hadn’t seen him in about six weeks. But Mum was sick so I kept my distance and didn’t want to get near them. I figured I’ve been away for six weeks so what’s another few days?
“Hopefully one day he’ll look back and he’ll be able to put on Mama’s medals and be really proud of what I’ve done. And hopefully he feels like he can chase his dreams, too.”
Twigg certainly set a shining example. After living her “worst nightmare” eight years ago, a broken Twigg declared she had was done with rowing aged 29.
A job with the IOC followed, along with the benefits that would bring, but her self-belief never faded. Two years later she was back on the water, swapping the comforts of retirement for the gruelling existence of an endurance athlete.
If a desire to prove something brought her back to the sport, Twigg’s love for that life kept her in a boat when her Tokyo triumph could easily have doubled as a glorious farewell.
“Tokyo was redemption of the fact that I believed that I could be an Olympic champion and that I always had it in me, and that the results in London and Rio were were not me,” she said.
“Ultimately I just love what I do, and actually I love the training more than I do the racing. That’s what kept me in the game. Inspiring people, the friendships — everything that, when I went away from the sport, I realised was worth more than this.
“That’s what I focused on in the last few years and it’s made the end result even more satisfying.”
That satisfaction was enhanced by the identity of the gold medallist — and the way Twigg pushed her to the line.
Karolien Florijn was unbeaten in the event for two years, and after cutting the Dutch sculler’s lead to under a second with 500m to race, Twigg looked across and sensed an opponent who had rarely encountered such pressure. But the 37-year-old’s “gas ran out” while the 26-year-old leader delighted the scores of orange-clad fans in the stands.
Twigg attributed her longevity to a lack of injuries, crediting her masseuses and physios. Her mentality, meanwhile, was aided this week by phones calls with friend and mentor Mahé Drysdale, the newly elected Tauranga mayor knowing a bit about Olympic success in the single sculls.
With that support supplementing her own gifts, Twigg clearly remains one of the world’s best. The finish line is, however, a few strokes away.
“I know that my time is numbered at the Olympic Games,” she said. “It might not be my last race internationally, but certainly at the Olympics.
“I can just be proud that I’ve emptied the tank — and a silver medal is phenomenal.”
Kris Shannon has been a sport journalist since 2011 and covers a variety of codes for the Herald.
There were 24,318 breath tests recorded in the region in just one month.