Putting the "Wow" Back In SamWow, Part One.

In the late spring of 2005, I was 15 and a rower on the crew team at DeMatha Catholic High School.  We had a dreadful year, finished what felt like a record of 0-100 (With one second place finish) but we had some laughs and a decent time.  Sorry, I'm getting off track so let's get back onnit.

It was the end of the season and we were all sitting in our "practice facility" which was really just an old Buick dealership/shop with all the equpiment laid out on top of the asbestos.  We were shooting the shit (Yes, I said shit) and waiting for our respective turns for the end of year reviews with the coaches.  We joked about what they would say, who might cry (Laputz was getting ragged on hard core), and what next year would be like when they called my name and I stood up to go into the garage.

In that short walk, everything I did wrong went through my head; the day I sat stroke, couldn't keep a steady pace and caught at least three crabs (rowing term, not the deliscous crustecean) and was probably my worst day on the water.  I thought about all the loses we had, mostly the race at Georgetown where we raced our hearts out for a 3rd place finish and heard Coach yelling from the shore "Head up DeMatha!" and I remember getting really emotional.  On our slow, painful row back to the dock, our "sister schools" rowed by us and congratulated us on the race but none of it helped. 

So it was a pretty scary feeling walking into that garage and sitting down in front of the coaches and I was sure I'd be cut or not asked back (The team was actually too small to afford to cut anyone).  I distinctly remember walking across to the seat they had for me and never looking up, I was staring daggers into my sweet New Balance 574s.

Well I sat down and we started the review, I don't remember all that was said, but it was probably a lot of "Well you did good here.  Improve here.  What can we do different here.  How'd this feel.  What about next year." and then they shook my hand and I stood to leave.  That's when my coach, Jim Case, said something to me that still hits me to this day (Pardon my French his French).

"There's just one problem, Carroll.  You always got that giant head down; keep your fucking head up.  You're a DeMatha Stag.  You're a big strong kid with a lot ahead of you.  If I see you with your head down I'm gonna call you out."

I walked out of there with my head up, but it probably sagged back down as soon as I got back into the main room.  Well hell, I promise you it did.  My head went down that day and has stayed down since that day for the most part, but that's all gonna change.

I've been beating (eating?) around the bush for too long on this whole thing and now that's done.  I'm going to write more about what's going on, what I'm trying to fix, and more as time goes on, just wanted to kick it off and remind everyone to keep ya chins up.

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Editors Note // The posts in this series might come off as somewhat of a bummer, but that's the nature of the beast.  I want to inspire and tell a story and to do that you need to make yourself and others feel.  I hope you enjoy -- Sam