The business we’re in, if we can’t have fun, how could we expect the public to have fun?1
Stroke, stroke, stroke.
Sophie’s lungs scream for air. Her arms, aching from the work, feel like two lead weights. Laughing to herself, she thinks, Why am I doing this? I got out of bed at 4 a.m.—voluntarily—to do this?
Sophie, intent on gripping the oar properly, barely hears the shouts of encouragement off in the distance.
“Go, go, go!”
Sweat pouring into her eyes, she grits her teeth and pushes on. The yelling gets louder as they pass the Mark Twain Riverboat.
“Don’t give up!”
“You’re almost there!”
The sudden splash of cold water hitting her face helps Sophie regain focus. “Don’t hit the rocks!” screams a ...