Before the start of each race, crews carried their boats down the hill to the lake. Coxswains ordered spectators out of the way--"Watch your heads, look out"--while the rowers stared solemly ahead.

"Before a race, I just pray we execute well," Crimson freshman heavyweight coxswain Chauncey Wood said. "If one little thing goes wrong, everything might go wrong. It's all so psychological."

To celebrate their victory and escape the heat, rowers from Harvard's second heavyweight boat placed their gold medals in the first-place bowl, held hands at the edge of the dock and leapt into the water.

"We've got to wash our shirts somehow," coxswain James Crick said.

At the end of the day, decked out with sunburns and smiles, the crowds began to leave Quinsigamond. Rowers piled onto team buses and spectators jumped into cars or simply walked out of the park. Most were excited about the races.

Most.

From where a woman in her fifties--who preferred to remain anonymous--sat, you couldn't see the lake. You could only see the back of the boathouse and the streams of people waiting to drink from a hose.

The woman was wearing sunglasses and sitting in a lawn chair under a tree. She was reading a romance novel and listening to the Boston Red Sox-Texas Rangers game on the radio.

"I'm with someone who's interested in the races," she explained. "I'm not interested in them myself."

She picked up the radio and smiled. "I'm more interested in this."