When one of our Greenland Sharks decided to tile his basement floor, he looked to the group for help. Not for advice—we’d all have gladly talked him out of it—but for actual hands-on labor. He wanted to save some cash and knew we were always up for a challenge. What unfolded over the next few days was equal parts grueling, comical, and unexpectedly meaningful.
Let me be clear: I know absolutely nothing about installing ceramic tile. What I’ve since learned, though, is that tiling a floor involves the worst parts of several trades. You lug heavy bags of quickset mortar, wrestle with stacks of tiles, and deal with water and mess everywhere. It’s physically demanding (remember we are in a basement)—up, down, and back on your knees in a constant loop—and it’s mind-numbingly slow. Yet, as Greenland Sharks, we’ve approached the task the only way we know how: slow, steady, and with humor.
What stands out most isn’t the tiling itself, but the lengths these Sharks went to for one of their own.
One Shark packed up his tools and drove all the way from Denver to Chicago to be our main tile setter.
Another, in the midst of hosting 30 kids for his daughter’s birthday party, still found time to swing by and lay down some tile.
A third Shark flew in from Texas, ready to serve as a journeyman, just like me, doing whatever needed doing.
Others took time off work just to help punish our bodies.
Finally, another Greenland Shark was genuinely upset because he thought we had not asked him to join in the misery. (We of course did)
It’s remarkable to watch a group of guys, most of us pushing or past 60, come together with patience and a willingness to share what we know. None of us are professional tilers, but the knowledge flows in a way that reminds me of my father-in-law teaching me to replace a toilet. He didn’t do the work; he sat in a chair, pointing and guiding while I figured it out. That’s what this project has felt like—a blend of learning, teaching, and just getting the job done as best we can.
Of course, tiling a basement as a group of older guys comes with its quirks. The dad noises alone could fill a podcast: grunts, sighs, and the occasional “Oof, my knees!” We’ve been passing around ibuprofen like it’s candy, and everyone has their favorite story of pulling a muscle they didn’t know they had.
We’re now on day four of the project. It’s Saturday—a big push day. The finish line is still uncertain, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t concerned we might not complete the job. But here’s the thing: our friend whose house this is? He’s genuinely grateful for whatever we can do. He’s not focused on perfection or speed. He’s just thankful for the camaraderie and the effort.
That’s something I’ve learned from this experience: gratitude doesn’t always come from the outcome. It’s in the process, the effort, and the willingness to show up for someone else. I wish I could be more like him—able to appreciate the journey without stressing about the destination.
This project isn’t just about tiling a basement. It’s about resilience, humor, and the unspoken bond that comes from working side by side, sharing aches, laughter, and the satisfaction of doing something hard together.
As Greenland Sharks, we move slow and steady. We take the long view. And even when we don’t know how things will turn out, we trust the journey—and each other.
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