We don’t all let loose that mighty yalp in victory, jump on the pile, brother upon brother, bonding with a screaming universe that borders on the spiritual.
We sometimes go inwards, burrowing towards the source of the volcano, feeling the rumble grow. But we won’t show you. This moment isn’t for you.
When I read this passage below in “All Together“, by William Stowe, about his eight-man crew’s victory at the US trials for the chance to bring Olympic Gold back to America, I am reminded of the film “Miracle“, about the stunning 1980 victory of the men’s US ice hockey team over the USSR. In this scene, just after play-by-play announcer Al Michaels screams “Yes!”, the coach of the team, the legendary Herb Brooks, finds his way to the end of the bench, smiles at his wife, and then vanishes alone into the passageway under the stands.
He is alone. He is feeling the rumble grow. And he is happy.
Stowe had a similar experience, 16 years earlier. As he writes, his team has pulled off a mammoth, and somewhat unexpected victory to win the US trials.
We were all basking in our victory and had no reason to hurry in packing up the boat for its return to Philadelphia. I could only think about getting the USA uniform and being a part of the American team. Later when I got to my car in the parking lot, I looked around and saw that no one was watching. Only then did I let out the victory whoop, the one I had been holding back for hours, and dance a victory jig. I had no conception of what we would have to do and how hard we would have to train to best represent America in the Olympic games three months hence. I simply was savoring the moment.
When the rowers hit the 1,500 meter mark in the 2,000 race, the sky exploded with rocket’s red glare, bombs bursting in air. It was twilight’s last gleaming when the eight-oar team from America pulled across the finish line to win the gold medal in the premier rowing event at the 1964 Summer Games.
The eight men from the Vesper Boat Club of Philadelphia had pulled off an upset, beating Germany, the reigning champions since Rome in 1960.
The start of the race had been delayed by two-and-a-half hours due to winds that appeared to give unfair advantage to rowers in certain lanes. The organizers knew the final race of the day at the Toda Rowing Course would likely be in darkness, so they consulted with anyone and everyone to figure out how to create enough light to film the race, let alone see who won.
First they organized all the cars they could, and lined them up along one side of the rowing course. But the headlights of all those cars could not blanket the entire rowing course. What happened next is explained by Olympic official, Yushi Nakamura, in William Stowe’s excellent account of the championship team in the book, “All Together – The Formidable Journey to the Gold With the 1964 Olympic Crew”.
“Two or three races prior to the final of the eight it became dark and I saw many people gathered at the finish line attempting to shine automobile headlights across the course to assist the judges. Trouble was in those days photo film was not as fast as today and car headlights were not enough to shine across the 100 meters of the course at the finish. It would be fatal that the Japanese organizing committee could not record the result of the Olympic finals on film.
“Suddenly I got an idea. The Japanese Self Defense Forces had been deeply involved in the Olympic Games with their mobile electric power and equipment. At Toda they were present with the telecommunications equipment between the start and finish line and along the course. My idea was that perhaps they had a special tool to give enough light for our needs. Fortunately I was at 2050 meter mark next to their headquarters van. I approached the senior officer and asked, ‘DO you have any tool or equipment to help us?’
“He replied, ‘We have star shells. They can illuminate the course like in day time.’ “
One of the greatest rowers in Olympic history, Vyacheslav Ivanov, was famous for coming from behind and winning with a super-human push. In fact, Ivanov was behind by 7 seconds with 500 meters to go in his 2,000 meter single sculls competition in Tokyo, and won the gold going away.
And yet, Ivanov must have thought his string of Olympic champions, including Melbourne in 1956 and Rome in 1960, was ending even before he could even start.
How he must have felt when he saw two big cracks in the hull of his new scull on October 8, just arriving in Yokohama from Tokyo. How his vessel got damaged on the Russian passenger liner is unclear. What was clear was that he had to get it repaired.
But as fortune would have it, he was in Yokohama, a port city where ship repairers were in abundance, and he was in Japan, where quality and conscientiousness are of the highest levels. His scull was
He’s taken pictures of America’s Cup skippers Ted Turner and Dennis Conner, the regatta at the bicentennial birthday party in New York Harbor, as well as the sailing competitions at the Tokyo Summer Games in 1964.
Fusanori Nakajima, who’s lived most of his life in New York, is enjoying life back in Japan. Below are a few of his photographs, which are now on display at the Enoshima Yacht Club, where I caught up with him.
Nakajima, who goes by the name “Fred” in the US, recollects being very busy with the Olympic work….taking shots all day in the water, and then driving back home to develop the film, and starting all over the next day. As he was asked by the Japan Olympic Committee to take on this job, he was provided an official JOC car