This multi-year bestseller (134 weeks and counting) is the story of the crew from the University of Washington that represented the US and won the Berlin Olympics in 1936. And the fact that our crew was the college team that won the trials and not an all-star team is an interesting takeaway from this book. (Today, an all-star team trains and competes together for years). The previous two Olympic golds were won by the University of California, Berkeley. They raced a-60-foot long, 24-inch-wide lightweight shell, with eight foot long oars, propelling a ton of weight for two miles. It may be the most demanding sport engaged in by man or woman. It is the equivalent of two back-to-back basketball games - in six minutes. It requires the exchange of oxygen at a rate comparable to a racing thoroughbred. "Pain is part and parcel of the deal."
One hundred and seventy-five young men tried out for the 1933 freshmen team. At the end of the fall semester, on Nov. 30, the crews were announced. They won their first real test in the annual May race against Cal and then went east and handily won the Intercollegiate Rowing Association regatta in June. The Washington freshmen boat was heralded around the country. As hard as it is to fathom, crew was one of the most followed sports in America. Every major paper covered the sport, and the big races were radio broadcast from coast to coast. A year later, they were the number one varsity boat, as sophomores, and beat Cal in the regatta on Cal's home waters. However, they were demoted to the j.v. boat for the IRA race, which was held every year in Poughkeepsie. Confounding their coach, they won handily and the varsity boat came in third. When the Washington varsity oarsmen turned out in the fall of 1935, Coach Ulbrickson told them it was every man for himself. He'd pick the 9 men for the varsity boat and he expected to take them to Berlin. They trained through a brutal, cold, wet, windy winter on the water. In March, the crew was selected; in April, they beat Cal; in June, they won the IRA at Poughkeepsie; and at Princeton in July, they won the trials. That evening, the American Olympic Committee told them they'd have to pay their own way; they had to raise $5,000 immediately or Penn, the second place finisher, would gladly go in their stead. The committeeman who advised them of this just happened to be the Chair of the Pennsylvania Athletic Association. The city of Seattle and the entire state raised the money quickly and they were on their way. In the preliminaries, they crushed all comers and broke the Olympic record. The Olympics being the Olympics, the European heads of the committee gave the Americans the worst lane, the one exposed to the most wind, and, in Ulbrickson's opinion, a two-length penalty. The only Olympic sport that garnered more world-wide attention than rowing was track and field. On August 14th, in front of Hitler and Leni Riefensthal's cameras, and millions of Americans listening on the radio, they got in their boat at about 6 PM. Their stroke oarsman was so ill they practically had to carry him. At 500 meters to the finish, they were a full length behind the Germans and Italians. In a photo-finish, their heart rates at an estimated 200 beats per minute, they won by .6 seconds. They were undefeated and never lost a race. All nine and their coach are in Rowing's hall of fame.
They rowed the 'Husky Clipper' every ten years at a reunion, and for the last time in 1986. Today, the boat hangs in a shell house on campus and every year, the freshman crew orientation takes place just below it.
The story of the boat is interspersed with the personal story of Joe Rantz, the #7 oarsman. It was not an easy ride from Spokane to fame. Born in 1914, he lost his mother at three and was let out by his father at 10 in the hardscrabble town of Squim. He pretty much looked after himself from that point on. He stayed where he could, worked for nickels and dimes, learned many useful skills in small town Washington, and was smart enough to go to the University. During his college years, he lived in the basement of the YMCA where he was a janitor. One summer, he handled a sledgehammer, hanging in a harness dangling over a precipice for 75 cents an hour, to help build the Grand Coulee Dam. Later in life, he used his engineering degree at Boeing for 35 years.
As is always the case with those of that generation, one is struck by their gracious, steadfast approach to depression, war and life's many challenges. Many thanks to Dr. George Todd for sending this excellent book to me for Christmas.
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