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