Eternal Pride, Momentary Sadness
This is my sixth draft of today's post. I normally post in one draft, because the words just come. But not today.
Yesterday was one of those days. It was one of those days that you dream about and you dread. It was one of those days you look forward to all your life, and hope will never come.
We had three medal races yesterday, first in the Yngling, then the Finn and then the 49er. We watched all three races on Course A from the sea wall, and we spent the day standing in rain that could generously be described as biblical. My guess is about a foot of rain fell from the skies yesterday, and the winds ranged from 15 early in the day, to a solid 25 for the 49er race. It rained constantly. When I finally returned to my room last night after 12 hours in the rain, I looked like I had just stepped out of the shower with my clothes on.
Yesterday, 24-year-old Zach Railey exceeded the expectations of everyone other than his teammates and his family when he secured his first Olympic medal, a silver in the Finn. Zach and his coach Kenneth Andreasen (who will soon succeed Gary Bodie as our High Performance Director) were masterful this week, in both their preparation and their execution. I could not be more proud of Zach. He has worked hard for this, and earned it. No one gave it to him. He made it happen, and I have no doubt that this is not the last time he will stand on the podium at this event. I cried tears of joy yesterday, and I'm doing so again right now. Zach lived what so many of us dream about.
Also yesterday, Sally Barkow, Debbie Capozzi and Carrie Howe did not meet their lofty goals, and fell just short of an Olympic medal. The details of the how and when are not important here. But their race did not go as planned and while they certainly had their opportunities yesterday, it was not to be. I am immensely proud of these three young women. They have done nothing but make us proud for four years. Over the last four years, Sally was twice named Rolex Yachtswoman of the Year, and both times she credited Debbie and Carrie for being with her every step of the way. These three women have been on the podium about 80% of the time they have raced their Yngling these last few years. That's a performance we may never see again. And yet, they go away from here feeling an intense sadness and everyone close to them right now is feeling it with them. They cried last night, and I cried with them.
And finally, yesterday, Tim Wadlow and Chris Rast did not meet their lofty goals either. By the time Tim and Chris and the other 49ers made it out to the race course, it was blowing an easy 20-25 knots, and these ten 49ers, handled by the finest sailors in the world, could not make it around the course without capsizing multiple times each. Have you ever sailed a 49er? I have... once... for about four minutes. People watching on shore had to look away with displaced embarrassment, trying hard not to laugh. It was blowing 6 knots and the water was flat as a board. So I can't even imagine the skill level required yesterday. And as with our Yngling team, things did not work out well for Tim and Chris, yet I am so immensely proud of them. They put together a focused effort these last two years that had them peaking at our Trials and again coming into these Games. They did everything correctly in their preparation. They were ready. It just didn't work out.
That's the thing about the Games. Everyone here is a great sailor. Everyone here has worked hard. Everyone has the same level of commitment. Everyone has a fast boat. The margins between winning and not are so small it is difficult to describe. Sometimes being fully prepared and peaking is not enough. Sometimes you need a break also. Can we say that our Yngling team or our 49er team were any less prepared than Zach? I can't say that. They were all ready to go. They were all ready to succeed. It worked out for Zach. It didn't for the others. I wish I could explain it, but I can't.
Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster ride like nothing I have experienced in my life. I rode the highs and the lows with members of our team, and with the family and friends of these athletes. It's so hard to console a parent whose child has just missed a medal, 20 minutes later celebrate with another whose child is living their dreams, and then again commiserate with a third family's disappointment. Intense diappointment, utter elation and intense disappointment once again. All inside about 90 minutes time.
Yet yesterday I also lived one of my proudest moments as the leader of this program. It occurred towards the end of the day. After Sally, Debbie and Carrie came back to shore, overcome by disappointment, you know what they all did? They changed out of their wet gear, and came out to the sea wall to watch Zach, Tim and Chris race. They came to cheer on their teammates. That's called class. That's called grace. And then, as Tim and Chris made it back to shore after a brutally tiring race, they were greeted by nearly our entire team. The team knew how tired and disappointed they would be, and Tim and Chris were met with friendly faces who gave them a hug and shoulders to cry on. And finally, nearly every member of the team made it down to the medal ceremony for Zach. Each of these athletes have their own goals, and so far several of them have dealt with some disappointment. But they put that aside last evening to come celebrate with a teammate who was on the podium.
I always, always, talk about the importance of medal production as the most important way to evaluate our program. And in many ways that will always be true. But yesterday, as I finally calmed down from a day I will never forget, I saw value in all the other things our program has achieved these last four years. Don't worry... I still want to win the medal count, and will do everything I can to make that happen some day soon. But while it may be primarily about medals and the podium, it is not all about medals and the podium.
My soul jumps for Zach. My heart sinks for Sally, Debbie, Carrie, Tim and Chris. And every member of this team has earned my eternal respect for the way they are conducting themselves here and for the way they have committed themselves to their goals. They are role models for all of us.
Today is another big day. Lots of things on the schedule, and I need to run.
Sail fast and cheer hard,
Dean Brenner
Team Leader
US Olympic Sailing Team
Yesterday was one of those days. It was one of those days that you dream about and you dread. It was one of those days you look forward to all your life, and hope will never come.
We had three medal races yesterday, first in the Yngling, then the Finn and then the 49er. We watched all three races on Course A from the sea wall, and we spent the day standing in rain that could generously be described as biblical. My guess is about a foot of rain fell from the skies yesterday, and the winds ranged from 15 early in the day, to a solid 25 for the 49er race. It rained constantly. When I finally returned to my room last night after 12 hours in the rain, I looked like I had just stepped out of the shower with my clothes on.
Yesterday, 24-year-old Zach Railey exceeded the expectations of everyone other than his teammates and his family when he secured his first Olympic medal, a silver in the Finn. Zach and his coach Kenneth Andreasen (who will soon succeed Gary Bodie as our High Performance Director) were masterful this week, in both their preparation and their execution. I could not be more proud of Zach. He has worked hard for this, and earned it. No one gave it to him. He made it happen, and I have no doubt that this is not the last time he will stand on the podium at this event. I cried tears of joy yesterday, and I'm doing so again right now. Zach lived what so many of us dream about.
Also yesterday, Sally Barkow, Debbie Capozzi and Carrie Howe did not meet their lofty goals, and fell just short of an Olympic medal. The details of the how and when are not important here. But their race did not go as planned and while they certainly had their opportunities yesterday, it was not to be. I am immensely proud of these three young women. They have done nothing but make us proud for four years. Over the last four years, Sally was twice named Rolex Yachtswoman of the Year, and both times she credited Debbie and Carrie for being with her every step of the way. These three women have been on the podium about 80% of the time they have raced their Yngling these last few years. That's a performance we may never see again. And yet, they go away from here feeling an intense sadness and everyone close to them right now is feeling it with them. They cried last night, and I cried with them.
And finally, yesterday, Tim Wadlow and Chris Rast did not meet their lofty goals either. By the time Tim and Chris and the other 49ers made it out to the race course, it was blowing an easy 20-25 knots, and these ten 49ers, handled by the finest sailors in the world, could not make it around the course without capsizing multiple times each. Have you ever sailed a 49er? I have... once... for about four minutes. People watching on shore had to look away with displaced embarrassment, trying hard not to laugh. It was blowing 6 knots and the water was flat as a board. So I can't even imagine the skill level required yesterday. And as with our Yngling team, things did not work out well for Tim and Chris, yet I am so immensely proud of them. They put together a focused effort these last two years that had them peaking at our Trials and again coming into these Games. They did everything correctly in their preparation. They were ready. It just didn't work out.
That's the thing about the Games. Everyone here is a great sailor. Everyone here has worked hard. Everyone has the same level of commitment. Everyone has a fast boat. The margins between winning and not are so small it is difficult to describe. Sometimes being fully prepared and peaking is not enough. Sometimes you need a break also. Can we say that our Yngling team or our 49er team were any less prepared than Zach? I can't say that. They were all ready to go. They were all ready to succeed. It worked out for Zach. It didn't for the others. I wish I could explain it, but I can't.
Yesterday was an emotional roller coaster ride like nothing I have experienced in my life. I rode the highs and the lows with members of our team, and with the family and friends of these athletes. It's so hard to console a parent whose child has just missed a medal, 20 minutes later celebrate with another whose child is living their dreams, and then again commiserate with a third family's disappointment. Intense diappointment, utter elation and intense disappointment once again. All inside about 90 minutes time.
Yet yesterday I also lived one of my proudest moments as the leader of this program. It occurred towards the end of the day. After Sally, Debbie and Carrie came back to shore, overcome by disappointment, you know what they all did? They changed out of their wet gear, and came out to the sea wall to watch Zach, Tim and Chris race. They came to cheer on their teammates. That's called class. That's called grace. And then, as Tim and Chris made it back to shore after a brutally tiring race, they were greeted by nearly our entire team. The team knew how tired and disappointed they would be, and Tim and Chris were met with friendly faces who gave them a hug and shoulders to cry on. And finally, nearly every member of the team made it down to the medal ceremony for Zach. Each of these athletes have their own goals, and so far several of them have dealt with some disappointment. But they put that aside last evening to come celebrate with a teammate who was on the podium.
I always, always, talk about the importance of medal production as the most important way to evaluate our program. And in many ways that will always be true. But yesterday, as I finally calmed down from a day I will never forget, I saw value in all the other things our program has achieved these last four years. Don't worry... I still want to win the medal count, and will do everything I can to make that happen some day soon. But while it may be primarily about medals and the podium, it is not all about medals and the podium.
My soul jumps for Zach. My heart sinks for Sally, Debbie, Carrie, Tim and Chris. And every member of this team has earned my eternal respect for the way they are conducting themselves here and for the way they have committed themselves to their goals. They are role models for all of us.
Today is another big day. Lots of things on the schedule, and I need to run.
Sail fast and cheer hard,
Dean Brenner
Team Leader
US Olympic Sailing Team
posted by Dean M Brenner at
7:06 PM
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