okay, i'm going to divide the book into three parts, but first, here's what i had, going into this book: the dad of the family i nanny for (let's call him dad 1) went to yale for undergrad and harvard business school after that. he's about ten years older than (or ahead of) most of the characters in this book. he has a friend in town (dad 2), the father of his sons' former classmate, and he (dad 1) has said that this guy (dad 2) is the only guy in town he can "intellectually relate to," or "the only guy who can keep up with me intellectually," or something to that extent (i can't remember the exact wording, but i was right there when he said it, so this isn't second-hand). this obviously is kind of a ridiculously arrogant comment to make, but it's still interesting. dad 2 is also, like dad 1, outlandishly successful at what he does and also attended ivy league school(s). when dad 1's twin boys were confirmed, dad 2 gave each of them this book as a present. the twins are both very athletic, playing two varsity sports a year at a competitive school. so i went into this expecting that it might hint at the values these dads held in common, what drove them to succeed, the kind of culture they come from, and what kind of people they wanted to raise their sons to be. and it's also by david halberstam, one of the more famous american journalists of the 2nd half of the 20th century. he had previously written about how even the best and the brightest (many of them educated at the ivies) couldn't manage the fiasco of the vietnam war. he also wrote about the establishment news media, the powers that be, at maybe the height of their power, after watergate but before cable news (and, later, the internet). those institutions were also fed by quite a lot of ivy grads. bob woodward went to yale. halberstam himself went to harvard. so basically i saw him as a guy who knew the (generally east-coast) culture inhabited by ivy alumni and their relationships with powerful institutions like the government and media. and also the way ivy culture helped shape upper middle class american culture. this could also help explain, um, all that stuff i wrote about in the last sentence of the previous paragraph (to avoid rewriting it). and one final anecdote: my dad went to new york univ. for law school at the same time dad 1 was at harvard business school, so they're in the same age group. dad and mom went to a law school reunion a couple years ago in new york city and mom mentioned hearing one of the people there say something to the extent of "these days even at harvard you don't know what kind of people your kids will meet." part of the ivy allure was always the people you'd meet, not just the education you'd get or the name you could put on a resume. you'd be part of the ivy culture, get instilled with those old-school high-american values, network not only to get a job but to create the social relationships that would constitute the next generation of wasp society. but according to the anonymous person at the reunion, that's no longer the case. the ivies are no longer overwhelmingly WASPy. the ivy institution in some ways does not serve the same purpose.so anyway, i clearly had thought way too much about this before i'd even read the first page, and it certainly shaped how i read the book.aaaaaaaaaaaand i'm tired. i got up to write this because i wasn't sleeping, and i'd been putting off writing about this for like a month now. now i'm tired again. i'll finish this later. too bad there's no save-as-draft option on this site.the book:1. harvard, pre-sport commercialization, end of era2. getting to know the guys: individual training strategies and personalities. why would anyone ever do this? different things work for different people. coaching can be a weird, mystical thing.3. the camp implodes. bad management strategies? is there any way it could have been prevented? or is it just something that happened, the way things happen?
Though I read this fresh off of Olympic fever, this story would be a solid read anytime. Halberstam frames a story about pure amateur sport and what drives people to seek physical dominance without the lure of monetary gain around the 1984 US Olympic rowing team. Rowing was an exceptional choice, as I doubt any of us can name any truly great rowers, proving just how little fame was to be gained in pursuing the sport. How many Nike athletes or Wheaties box cover stars ever sculled? Nobody's thinking of rowing full-time to make their fortune in this book. Furthermore, as Halberstam explains in great detail, rowing is a uniquely punishing sport. I learned more about the way the body processes its energy in the reading of this book, but almost always through the lens of how much pain rowing causes, and how superhuman people have to be to endure it. Or crazy, in my opinion - but the kind of crazy you admire. The sport was a good choice too because the contracted circle of its participants lends a sort of claustrophobia to the novel - everyone knows each other's strengths and styles, and the constant whirl of boat pairings and personality clashes (those boats they use are barely big enough for 2+ bodies, let alone egos) drives home just how difficult it is to balance a championship boat (and the training leading up to a championship run), both physically and mentally.So, we've got a mountain of reasons why not to row - there's no future in it, it's physically crushing, and you've only got about a razor thin chance of winning despite your dedication. Why do it? Halberstam takes us through the personal stories of each of the contending rowers in this book to answer that question, and I was enthralled the whole journey through.
Do You like book The Amateurs (1996)?
I really enjoyed this book; read it straight through without putting it down. I was surprised that a friend (and a rower, nonetheless), wasn't as excited about this book as I was. Then I realized that I identified with the characters in this book, and their relentless (probably skewed and misguided) pursuit of an athletic goal. Since we usually like to read things that reflect our points of view, I think it's clear why I liked this so much. Still, Halberstam's sportswriting, as always, is limpid and breathtaking: one wishes that he wrote more daily accounts of sports events after reading his prose.
—Chris
I finished the book within 2 evenings. It is such an extraordinary book that illustrates what rowing really is. When you row the feeling of pain is so overwhelming that it is even beyond the name of pain is given. In the book, it says:"During their college years the oarsmen put in terribly long hours, often showing up at the boathouse at 6:00am for preclass practices. Both physically and psychologically, they were separated from their classmates. Events that seemed earth-shattering to them-for example, who was demoted from the varsity to the junior varsity - went almost unnoticed by the rest of the students. In many ways they were like combat veterans coming back from a small, bitter and distant war, able to talk only to other veterans."Some of my practices started at 5.30 am for which we wake up 5am the latest.As for the earth-shattering event, it is so true. It reminded me a day that I shed tears because I could not make a boat that was to compete in the Head of the Charles. That was so so miserable to me. I should have made that boat no matter what. Damn! It's history now. There was only one other time that I shed tears during my college years.But that's nothing related with the book. Woow, I can breath so well after reading this book. Only fellow oarsman can understand what I mean I think. So that's all now.
—Dulguun
David Halberstam at his lucid best. The present day true amateur athletes, those without financial support from either sponsors, national organizations, or endorsements, rarely exist. David takes us back a few decades to a sport, crew, where only "amateurs" resided. He recounts the rowers' challenge of training and providing existential finances for themselves. They trained for love of sport, competitive desire, and the goal of winning. A wonderful study of athletic psyche' in a sport of true amateurs.
—Sbrum
