Sean's Story

            by James Barnett

 

They were just boys when you took the time to really think about it. Not one of them was a day older than 18 at any point during camp. They were some of the best and the most determined in the country, only a step away from the national team, and some them were not even that far off. They were the most desired rowing recruits in the country. They were the rowers that coaches drooled about, the ones who seemed like they could last forever. The athletes whose bodies wouldn't quit on them. You could put them through whatever you wanted and they would still bounce back after two hours sleep and five Eggo waffles.

 

It was with 45 other of these athletes that Sean began his summer. He had taken a flight out to Philadelphia two nights before and had already settled into his depressingly small dorm that would be home for the next eight weeks. Eight weeks of double day practices, hundred degree weather, ninety percent humidity, smelly under washed spandex, and envitable back pain that came hand in hand with rowing. He didn't quite know why he was doing this, he didn't really have anything to prove by being there; he knew he would be recruited whether he made the team or not. The only reason he could think of was that he had seen the Penn AC team the summer before, where they had swept every event they entered, and he had known that he wanted to do the same thing with them this summer. It was that burning desire to be able to say you're better than the next guy.

 

When Sean got to camp he didn't know any body else there. He was a pretty social guy, but the guys at camp all seemed to be those typical East Coast douche bags, who wore overly bright polo shirts, too small shorts, saying things like mad and wicked. The coach was insane. He was a smallish guy, with a bright red face, balding head, and more worry lines in his face than 80 year old jewish grandmother. He ran practice like a boot camp, morning practice would usually be the harder of the two, he would do the racing pieces in the morning when it was cooler and the guys were fresher so he could push them harder. The afternoons would usually be long hard rows, with low stroke ratings either working on the feel of the boat or working on fitness. He made life a living hell for the guys on and off the water. At practice he would scream until spit dribbled down his chin, and one or more of the guys fell over from heat exhaustion. Once when a rower came to him and told him that his back was hurting him and he wanted a few days off. Fife made him go in front of the entire camp and tell the rest of the guys that he was a pussy.

 

After about a week of this Sean's already tender back had had enough. It was hard enough having to row for six hours a day, but then to have to bike to and from the dorms on top of it, he couldn't do it anymore. He decided that he would just tell Fife (coach) what was going on and hope he didn't get too much shit from him for it. After all he was a favorite of Fife's, so he felt safe in asking for time off.

“Uh, coach, I kinda need to talk to you about something” said Sean leaning against the door frame of Fife's office.

“What is it Sean? Vagina acting up again or something?” Fife chuckled to himself.

“Yeah, not so much the vagina, as the back. I'm really not feeling those bike rides to and from the dorms on top of practice” Sean stated matter of factly, making sure Fife understood he had to do something about it.

“Alright. Well, the other Cali kids have a car, and I know they have extra room, so why don't you start riding with them. You California pussy's are all the same, so you should get along just fine.” Sean couldn't believe that this had gone over so well. He was ecstatic, not only did he no longer have to ride his bike, but he found out that Fife really liked him, in allowing him to get away with this unscathed.

Sean hadn't really talked to the new California guys. He knew they rowed for another team just across the bay from him. He had never talked to them before, they had showed up about a week late to camp, having just come from winning a national championship. They had been treated like royalty since the moment they arrived, they apparently were friends with the one hot girl at camp, who had a car, and who had gone to get them airport. They had another friend from California already at camp, who had set up their rooms for them, and made sure they didn't have to worry about anything from the moment they stepped off the plane. To be honest Sean thought they were kind of cocky assholes. Then again he probably would be too were he in their position he reasoned.

 

“Hi, I'm Sean” said Sean, climbing into the back seat of the coxswain Alix's land cruiser.

“Hi, I'm Alix, were really glad you started riding with us, we hated the other guy, Pat, he sucked, and now were all Cali kids!” Alix was bursting with excitement at meeting someone new.

“Hey, I'm James, I know who you are, you're the big Marin stud right? Nice to meet you”

“Rudy, whats going on?” said Rudy nonchalantly

“Tyler Brandt, I row for Capital” said Tyler

 

Two days later Sean found himself living in the spare room in the suit that they all shared at the dorms. It was not an unnatural transition. He was much like the other guys and could understand where they were coming from, and new exactly how they felt. The five of them quickly became a unit, discovering that they had all been racing against one another for the past three years. They went on like this for the next month, sharing everything, doing everything together. They would play practical jokes on the East coast kids, like upper decking their toilets, and sneaking into other peoples rooms to turn on the showers and make mini saunas.

This was until one practice things in Sean's life took a sudden turn for the worse. His back had been troubling him for the past five weeks. He had not said much because his back was always in pain and there was no use in bitching for bitching sake. This was the last workout of th week before a two day break, something they had not had for weeks now. During the final sprint of the last piece Sean felt his back go, and heard something pop in his lower spine.

“Holy Shit!!!!” Sean bent over back wards in the boat, letting go of his oar, and gritting his teeth with a look like someone was branding him with a hot iron. Immediately the rest of the guys stopped rowing, and the coach came tearing over in his launch to see the problem.

“What hurts Sean? I need to know is it upper or lower back, spine or muscle? You've got to tell me” Fife said this through his teeth while probing Sean's back, evoking further cries of pain.

“Shit, I dunno it feels like its all on fire, I can't really tell whats hurting and what isn't”. Sean was rocking back and forth on his seat trying to keep his mind on anything else than his back. Fife pulled him out of the boat drove him into the boathouse and then told him to take the next few days then come back when he felt better.

 

 

As Sean lay in bed that night feeling like a jelly fish, he realized that though the pain had diminished it was still there. This scared him a lot because he had already taken two of James' pills. He began to worry that he might have damaged his spine. The longer he thought about it the stronger the fear in his mind grew, and the stronger the pain in his back grew with it. When he could take it no longer, he reached over to his bedside table and called James on his cell phone.

“Whats wrong man, can't sleep”? James sounded very tired and very asleep.

“Dude.......Hospital.....”

“Oh, shit, uh yeah hold on, try and get dressed, I'll go steal Alix's car keys. James jumped out of bed desperately trying to throw on his pants shirt, and grab his keys wallet and phone all at the same time, and succeeding in doing none of them.

 

Five hours and about ten pages of the most complicated paperwork they had ever come across, James and Rudy found themselves waiting for Sean's results to come back from his X-ray. They had been on the phone with his mother getting his information and now they just needed Sean to be released. they first saw Sean being wheeled out in a wheelchair with a slightly glazed look to his eyes. The doctors then proceeded to tell them that Sean was done rowing for awhile if not for good. He had four bulging discs in his back, and that he might paralyze himself if he tried to keep it up. When they tried to explain this to Sean, he didn't quite seem to understand it.

“The fuck, do you mean I can't row anymore! Explain to me how I'm getting into college otherwise. It wouldn't happen. Besides the Cal coach is coming to watch me practice in few days, and hes gonna decide then if he wants to recruit me or not. I'll be fine just give me some drugs and I'll suck it up.”

James and Rudy just shook their heads at this, and reasoned that there was no way he could get drugs strong enough to actually pull that one off. What they hadn't taken into account was that his mother had been so worried about her son, she had given him full legal power to get whatever surgery he saw fit, whatever drugs he needed, he had but to ask for them at the hospital.

 

Two days later Sean appeared at the boathouse, with a slightly wobbly look to him, but he managed to act like himself, and even joked around with the Cal coach. He told Fife he was fine, and that he was able to row. James and Rudy went up to him afterwards, and flat out told him that he was crazy. They told him that this was a bad idea and that he would really hurt himself if he went through with this. Sean just laughed it offed winked at them, and went to go get his boat.

 

What they all found out later was that Sean had gone to the hospital an hour before, and gotten an epidural. He could not feel a thing from mid back down. He was able to row for two hours that day putting on an impressive performance that got him admitted to the University of California. He stopped rowing after that. He flew home directly afterwards, for physical therapy, and rehabilitation. He made an impressive comeback, one that led him to believe he was healed. This comeback allowed him to believe he was healed, so he decided not to tell the coaches that anything was wrong with him. He did not want to give them the idea that he was soft.

 

By going against the doctors orders, Sean allowed himself one more month of intensive physical activity. All his hard work was shot away when he finally ruptured three of the discs in his back, and was told he could no longer row, or run, ever again. This blow sent Sean into a fit of depression that lasted months. He no longer knew what he was to do with himself, he was still in love with the sport of rowing. He would sit and mope for hours, replaying old clips of races, days long past. As he sat he began not to really feel sorry for himself anymore, that feeling was simply replaced by a feeling of loss. His life did not feel complete without rowing in it. He had a huge gap in his schedule now and the only thing he could think to fill it with was more crew.

 

He began to go down to watch practices with the coaches, staying silent, only speaking when asked a direct question by one of the coaching staff. As he became a more familiar sight in the launches, coaches began to ask him his advice on certain aspects of rowing. They asked what he would do in a certain situation, and how he would handle dealing with some of the other hot shots on the team. It was in this manner that Sean was able not too focus on his injuries too much and still be around what he loved. He could take a step back and look at rowing through an entirely different perspective, one without ego, and one without attitude. Sean channeled his drive and desire to win through his new rowers, and because their pain was so close to him, he had no problems relating, and making them feel as though he cared and knew exactly what they wanted.

 

Sean felt that one summer spent on the East Coast was the determining factor in the kind of person he wanted to be. He did not want to be the coach that pushed until his rowers keeled over from injury. He did not want to be the kind of man that everybody hated behind his back, he wanted to be approachable and he wanted them to like him. Gone were his sophomoric ideas about how much better he had to be than everybody else. They no longer mattered, the only thing that did matter was that he had grown up. He did not want to at the time, but now that it had, it seemed like a good thing. It had turned him into a mature adult, something that might not have happened otherwise for a very long time.