Opinion | Marnie McBean and Kathleen Heddle were magic in a boat together for Canada at the Olympics

“It’s kind of like this passing of the torch, and it’s lovely to see,” McBean said. “There’s always a new generation of athletes coming through.”

So turns the perpetual circle, in sports and in life. What didn’t need to be said was that the silver anniversary of McBean’s third Olympic gold would have been far more festive if McBean’s partner in all three wins could have been present. Alas, Kathleen Heddle died in January at age 55 after a series of battles with cancer — breast and lymph-node cancer first, followed by melanoma and brain cancer, the unrelenting scourges of the final six years of a life gone too soon.

You can make the case the Heddle-McBean partnership is the most successful in Canada’s history at the Summer Olympics. In 1996, they became the first Canadian Olympians to win triple gold. And a quarter-century on, the country has yet to produce an athlete, let alone two, who can claim ownership to three golds in the Summer Games.

Which is not to say a partnership so fruitful didn’t come with foibles. They were classic opposites: McBean a Toronto extrovert never at a loss for words, Heddle a Vancouver introvert comfortable in her shell, rowing and otherwise.

“We didn’t get along very well when we first hooked up,” McBean told a reporter in 1996. “(Heddle) was too quiet; I talked too much. But eventually we realized we were a good fit, perhaps because of our contrasting personalities. We understand each other so well.”

When McBean spoke about Heddle on Tuesday, she likened her old partner’s death to losing a sister. Thanks to the bonds formed training and competing around the world for more than half a decade, McBean said the duo could communicate while barely speaking, using a single word to speak volumes or a knowing look that required scarce elaboration.

“We could get together after not seeing each other for months and just pick up and be comfortable in each other’s space. I think that’s what I miss,” McBean said. “I was asked what I would say to Kathleen if we were out for coffee. And we’d just be enjoying the coffee … We’d be chatting about life and our kids. And that’s the part that I miss. I miss being able to talk to her about little things.”

One of the last times they communicated, McBean said, was on Heddle’s 55th birthday in November of last year.

“She kept her last battle with cancer very private from us. We knew about the first three,” McBean said. “I sent a note wishing her a great birthday and talking about some other things … She told me how much her family was spoiling her for her birthday. In hindsight, there was a lot more going on than she was sharing.”

McBean said she cherished the memory of the last time they rowed together, at a reunion race in Boston in 2019 with other members of the Canadian women’s eight that won gold at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics. “A big punch bowl of a celebration” is how McBean described it. And it didn’t hurt, she said, that Canada took first place in the 50-plus age category.

Then and always, McBean and Heddle were magic in a boat together. So when Heddle retired from the sport after teaming with McBean to win two golds in Barcelona, McBean was persistent in coaxing Heddle back for a new challenge in the lead-up to 1996. While they’d won their Barcelona golds in the pair and the eight — wherein each rower sweeps with one oar apiece — McBean proposed a switch to double sculls, a more technically demanding discipline wherein each rower commands two oars.

To no one’s surprise they quickly adjusted to the new pursuit, winning silver in the 1994 world championship and gold a year later. But they came off as humble champions. In an interview after they led the 1996 Olympic final from start to finish to claim their historic third gold, Heddle told a story about watching a CBC feed alongside McBean while the duo was being lionized as Canada’s greatest Olympians.

“It was, ‘They can’t be talking about us,’” Heddle said. “They don’t see how lazy we are and what we eat sometimes. We both have a ‘that can’t be’ sort of attitude and I can’t see that changing in 20 years.”

As McBean was saying on Tuesday, when she looks back on those Olympic triumphs, the feeling of “that can’t be” hasn’t changed. It can’t possibly be that 25 years have passed since Atlanta, just like it can’t possibly be that Heddle isn’t here to share in the reminiscing. As McBean’s voice caught over a phone connection, she said she’d celebrate a silver anniversary watching a new generation of Canadian Olympians vie for gold, while thinking about an old friend with whom she won her share.

“(If Kathleen were here) we’d probably just be remembering a little bit about what we were able to do, in kind of that crazy ‘Was that actually us?’ kind of way,” McBean said. “She was always present in my life when she was with us. And in my mind, she’s still a quiet presence as I walk around here today.”