..history..
our first Dad Vail Gold
by Karlene BergerI am just a transfer student. I came from a small school, and I was happy to be surrounded by a great deal more people at Tech. The trouble was, I didn't really know any of these people. I eventually met Brooks and I was pushed into trying to cox. Mainly because the novice team didn't really have any constant coxswains.
Our Fall season was a good start and a good introduction to the "crew life", I suppose if you could call it anything, perhaps a cult. When spring came around, my team got serious about winning. The men's novice team is quite a story of soap opera conflict. I won’t sugar coat it, there were a lot of fights between members in the boat. On the water. Fights between me and members in the boat. Towards mid-season, I was scared we wouldn't be able to hold it together as a team.
At SIRAs, our first true novice light eight sprint, when my team had finally gotten our butts into gear, our minds focused, and our hearts had been set on taking home gold, we got beaten by Purdue by .61 seconds. That was an amazing and exciting race, but we weren't satisfied. 0.61 seconds burned. My inspirational speech about prom queens certainly hadn't come through.
Dad Vails was going to be ours. It was as clear as the see-through mesh on the side of my spandex shorts.
The day of the race, we weighed in and it seemed like we sat around, waiting for our chance to shine all day. No one was talkative. Our boat had come to do the job, no more kidding around. Before we set out on the water, the war paint was applied. Each of my rowers had .61 on the backs of their necks to remind them of SIRAs. I even had it written on my chest because this is where my stroke's gaze tended to fall. On the way up to the start, my boat was quiet, and while practicing starts they felt as smooth and as fast as they had ever been.
At the start 6-seat, Drew Frisch, looked over at Purdue who was in the lane next to us, and puked. I heard them point at him and say "that's hardcore" and before the race had even started, I knew they were scared. They had seen us launch with our necks ablaze with the glory that was about to be ours.
Equipment does break, though, and for Purdue in the first 100 meters it did. This delayed the race about 20 minutes or so. Which made the tension only build.
The second start was good and by the 30 degree bend at Strawberry Mansion Bridge, it was only Purdue that was in front of us by half a boat's length. They were going to be ours. I waited until just after 1000 meters to call triple sevens, our power move in the middle of the race. After the first 7, something in the boat clicked on - we took off so fast that Purdue didn't even know what hit them. By the end of our triple sevens - they were blown away and didn't recover.
I remember the sprint because of Tech’s chant. The calls of "Lets Go Tech" pretty much deafened us – it was the first time ever hearing any cheering during the race. The chant seemed to fuel the fire and, keep the rate up for the rest of the sprint. Crossing the line first felt good and my whole boat was overcome with emotion. We actually watched Purdue cross the line, there was enough time that we beat them by.
It hit us all different – the fact that we were the first Tech boat to get a Gold at Vails. Some of us were loud about it (me obviously) and some of us were quiet. Tobias and Drew said nothing. Trevor and Dave did the victory stroke they had practiced all season. Mike O'Toole just beamed in the bow. The rest of the team meanwhile was just as happy for us – they couldn’t scream at us enough it seemed.
After docking, we went back to the trailer and of course it was time for me to go into the water. All 8 of them were a little too energetic, but at least they let me take my glasses and medal off. Luckily to better coordinate, they let me cox them through the process. “All 8, hands on me! Up-over-heads-and-up!” People tell me when I called up over heads, everyone around us was staring. People stopped what they were doing, little kids stopped crying, the world stopped and stared. I guess a blonde haired girl being carried over heads, not shoulders, but up over heads back to the dock was a sight to see. We made it down to the dock and with the 3 swing salute I took a swim. It was a swim in what I don’t remember to be the cleanest water I have been in. Immediately after I was saluted in, so did Coach Ethan - not by his decision and not by a salute, but a little encouraged push in the right direction. My whole team followed us after a minute.
I spent my whole life loving swimming and the water, but getting out of the Schuylkill River was one of the best feelings I have had in my life. I never thanked Coach Ethan for getting me there, but he deserves a lot of the credit.
Crew has made me much more of a leader than I ever thought I had in me. I have met so many great people in my only one year as a coxswain.. It made me like team sports again, which I hadn't liked in a long time.
No one thing can define a person. No one moment in their life can make them who they are. But there is always a certain profoundness that one can attach to moments in their life. A significance. The one moment in your life when you shine above those around you. When the light hits you and nothing else. All 9 of us felt it that day so strongly that I think those around us could see it. In fact I could actually feel it radiating off of us. I know its one thing I will never forget in my entire life. Not Ever.