The Boys in the Boat

Internet image

I just finished The Boys in the Boat, the story about the team that won a Gold medal at the 1936 Olympics.

George Clooney directed the movie released last year. I've not seen the movie; I did see the documentary made about the team and was glad to get the book.

The author, Daniel James Brown, interviewed several of the crew members, read their journals, and picked up stories from family members.

Brown's reporting on the young men is illustrated against the backdrop of the Depression and winds of war blowing up in Germany. Where he excels is weaving the stories together while offering today's perspective.

While the story is about athletes it's not a sports story as much as a tale of perseverance in the face of adversity. The odds are against aspiring college freshmen as athletes and as students compared to the men who come from wealth.

But with the advantages against them, they found ways to use disadvantages as fuel to fight through the pain and against stiff competition.

The crew from the University of Washington beat the rival boat from California, the elite teams on the east coast and in the Ivy League, ultimately succeeding as an American success story in Hitler's Germany.

Chapter 18, page 462 picks up the battle of their lives culminating in the middle of the Olympic final:

Then they rowed into a world of confusion. They were in full-sprint mode, ratcheting the stroke rate up toward forty, when they hit a wall of sound. They were suddenly right up alongside the enormous wooden bleachers on the north side of the course, not more than ten feet from thousands of spectators screaming in unison, "Deutsch-land! Deutsch-land! Deutsch-land!" The sound of it cascaded down on them, reverberated from one shore to the other, and utterly drowned out Bobby Moch's voice. Even Don Hume,, sitting just eighteen inches in front of him, couldn't make out what Moch was shouting. The noise assaulted them, bewildered them. Across the way, the Italian boat, began another surge. So did the German boat, north rowing at over forty now. Both clawed their way to even with the American boat. Bobby Moch saw them and screamed into Hume's face, "Higher! Higher! Giver her all you got!" Nobody could hear him. Stub McMillin didn't know what was happening, but he didn't like whatever it was. He flung the F word into the wind. Joe didn't know what was happening either, except that he hurt as he'd never hurt in a boat before-hot knives slipped into the sinews of his arms and legs and sliced across his broad back with each stroke; every desperate breath seared his lungs. He fixed his eyes on the back of Hume's neck and focused his mind on the simple, cruel necessity of taking the next stoke.

You might work up a sweat just reading their inspiring, almost unbelievable story.