Word: rowing
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1970
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...inevitably, life. I reached no conclusions, and then three varsity pairs arrived. Jim Ehrman got out and went down on one knee on the dock. "Oh, my back," he muttered. "That was a bitch," Fritz Hobbs agreed. Hobbs graduated a year ago, but he still comes down to row at Newell. They felt that it had been the fall's toughest workout-a popular opinion at the end of a practice. It was so familiar...
...sport at Harvard-or anywhere else, it would seem-demands so much practice time for so little time spent in intercollegiate competition. Oarsmen row five days a week during the fall, row six days a week in the tank during the winter, stay here for double sessions during spring vacation, and continue the arduous daily workouts during the spring. There is little recognition. This work prepares them for about seven races during the spring-adding up to perhaps an hour of rowing. "I guess you have to be a little nutty," Bill Hobbs reasoned...
...MEMORY: BREAKTHROUGHS IN THE SCIENCE OF THE HUMAN MIND by D.S. Halacy Jr. 259 pages. Harper & Row...
...which drove city-dwellers up the walls or out to the countryside. With a friend, I'd walked up from the Village to Central Park, then full of softball games and lingering couples, street musicians, porno peddlers, family picnics and friendly cops. To walk through it that day, to row a boat in its cramped pond was to welcome back the sentimentality and nostalgia forestalled during the year by sterner pursuits. When with sweat-stained shirts and feet aching we decided to move to the East Side where the John Korty film was playing, in an archetypal art box complete...
Photographer David Douglas Duncan, whose War Without Heroes was published last week (Harper & Row; 252 pages; $14.95), has managed to recapture the war in all its grisly tedium. Looking deceptively like a cocktail-table art book, Duncan's gloom-shrouded pictures of American fighting men are packed more with fatigue than fight. There are no heroic actions; men shave, take muddy baths, clean up after shellbursts, write letters, stare vacantly at absolutely nothing while waiting for the next pointless action. The photographs have the stink of death, the feel of futility and, on any cocktail table, far surpass alcohol...