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June 21, 2018 - Image 12

Resource type:
Text
Publication:
The Michigan Daily

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BELLEVILLE, Mich. —
The common perception of
Memphians — inhabitants
of the great city of Memphis,
Tenn. — is that we’re tough and
gritty.
Or that’s what I had to
remind myself when I trudged
out of bed before 6 o’clock in
below-freezing temperatures.
I mean, who wouldn’t,
right? After all, this was the
last chance of the year to catch
the Michigan rowing team at a
home meet.
Ok, I’ll admit it. I was really
hoping to just call it quits
and go back to bed — but not
because I didn’t think the meet
was important.
It’s just that, well, I was
hesitant about everything
leading up to the meet.
30-degree weather at the end
of April? Driving 40 minutes
to a lake I’ve never heard of in

a rented car? I could just smell
the trouble.
But that first step I took
from my bed was all it took to
get me up and moving.
The first step’s really all
it takes to change a person’s
perspective.
***
If you drive down a rocky
and bumpy trail while
following flimsily-placed signs
throughout the path, you’ve
experienced the rowing-meet
commute — or rather felt it.
The potholes in the road
make the trip quite the
rollercoaster.
Arriving after several
fruitless attempts to follow the
signs, I parked the car in a field
that was littered with sloppily-
parked cars. Though I can’t say
I really helped either.
Two steps. That’s all the
amount of walking I got in
before a cart — Michigan
decorated — drove up to me
and offered me a ride.

Sure, why not. It was a
confusing path by foot, and I
was running on thin ice to be
on time. The staffer who drove
the cart was intrigued by my
Tennessee origins.
“Oh, you’re from
Memphis?” said the grounds
crew worker. “That’s cool. I
actually know a few people
from Nashville.”
Ding ding ding. There it
is. If I had a dollar for every
time I heard that statement,
I wouldn’t be a broke college
student. So you can imagine I
hear it a lot. But he shifted right
after to hyping up the rowing
meet.
“Just wait until you get to
the patio.” the grounds crew
worker said after I told him it
was my first time at the lake.
I could hardly wait.
Literally. The meet was
about to start in less than
ten minutes, and we stopped
once again to pick up more
bystanders.

This time it was an elderly
couple who were arguing
right outside their car. Their
daughter was lost, and they
were on the phone trying to
direct her. But “luckily,” I got
lost too, so I knew a good way
to break down the directions.
“Just listen to the young
man’s advice,” the wife said to
her husband. “He obviously
knows what he’s talking
about.”
I was trying to speed things
up, but I ended up delaying
myself ten minutes, as the
husband was adamant on
explaining the directions
himself. After the grounds
crew driver took pity on my
dying soul, he offered to come
back to pick up the two, who
happily complied.
All I could think of the
rest of the ride, despite trying
to keep up with the driver’s
conversation, was, ‘Boy, this is
a steep hill.”
The cart drove down what

felt like a 100°-angled hill. But I
didn’t mind. If it helps us get to
the lake faster, I’ll take it.
Three steps from the
cart, which dropped me off
conveniently close to the event,
I met up with the Managing
Photo Editor, Alex Cohen.
“Why am I here?” He asked
bluntly.
It’s easy to understand. This
was the first time either of us
had absolutely no idea where to
go. No press box. No courtside.
There was just the lake house
and the mini-peninsula made
out of the mud and dirt. So
naturally, we stuck to the mini-
peninsula.
The thing is, that’s where
the best view came from. It
was like a sand-point bar, so
naturally, you could see where
the boats started, and you get
the last glimpse of where they
break off into the sunset.
***
I had covered rowing all
year, so I knew what to expect.

Or that’s what I thought before
the first varsity eight boats
pulled from the starting line.
You don’t deal with words
and numbers any more.
You’re dealing with suspense
live stats can’t capture, with
performances you can’t
capture with recaps and
phone-cover details.
Both 1V8s broke out to a
similar pace, neither able to top
the other.
The first 500-meters was a
nail-biter. The lead, which was
created just briefly, teetered
between the two teams before
Michigan created a larger
separation.
But the atmosphere from
between the lake-house
patio — where both fanbases
anxiouxly waited — and the
boats had a feeling about it that
draws you in.

TIEN LE
Managing Sports Editor

Read more at
MichiganDaily.com

COLUMN

DESIGN BY JACK SILBERMAN

PHOTO BY ALEC COHEN

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