Una Gota De Sangre

It's days like these that remind me why I decided to row.

Our regular practice was alright, I suppose. The cox was experienced (thank God), and we were going full eight by the end of the practice. (In other words, all eight of us were rowing, with no one left to sit the boat. Which is pretty hard to do, because everyone has to have the same balance and timing, or it'll all go to crap pretty quickly.)

It was at about this time that I realized something very important: Whoever had been sitting at Bow before me had loosened the footplate, and not tightened the screws again.

......Brilliant!

So every time I put some power into the stroke, the footplate makes a horrible screeching sound and lurches a peg lower. Lovely. And then there were the balance problems...

For those of you that aren't "boaties", it's like this:

When you first start to row, you're afraid of your oar. Seriously, you are. If it digs too deep into the water, it'll be pulled under and the handle will swing at your face. You end up thinking of it as something alive, that you have to fight for control with. You have no idea what it's going to do next, and you watch it constantly.

Once you gain more experience and confidence, you realize that you actually have control of it, and that it'll do whatever you tell it to; you just have to know what you're doing. Because if the blade does something wrong, it's your fault. You begin to understand that if the shell is listing to your side while you're sitting the boat, you can fix it by raising your hands.

Then you gain even more experience, and you begin to understand that you can adjust the balance of the boat during the stroke, again by raising or lowering your hands. That's the point at which we're at right now.

...Which means that we seesaw.

Bowside: "Oh crap! My blade isn't clearing the water, so I'd better raise my hands on this stroke!"
*Bowside raises hands, and shell lists to Strokeside*
Strokeside: "Oh crap! My blade isn't clearing the water, so I'd better raise my hands on this stroke!"
*Strokeside raises hands, and shell lists to Bowside*
Bowside: "Oh crap!"

But at least we're getting the hang of it now. When we got back to the boathouse, one of the other novice teams was waiting for their turn. And well, what do you know? Three of them showed up late, and two of their crew just didn't show up at all, for no apparent reason. I mean, it's not like it was early morning and someone overslept. This explains why they're Novice D. Oh, and one of them had never been out on the water before. That also explains it.

So I volunteered to be one of the two people to stick around and row for a few more hours with them. (Surprisingly enough, I was the one with the most experience in the entire crew.) The three that showed up late were real girly-girls. I'm not kidding, and I'm not knocking it either. There is nothing wrong with make-up, manicured nails or eye shadow that matches your outfit. But come on; don't dress up to come rowing. The one that hadn't ever rowed before was in that group, which isn't unexpected.

And where did they end up? At Four, Three and Two. As the Bow, I just had to put up with it. Especially when the cox called for Bow Four to row. Our cox was a novice (second time coxing ever), and our course was pretty erratic. And when I say "erratic", I mean that we almost crashed into the bank four separate times. I swear to God, if we rip off our bow ball, I'm going to have it mounted and give it to the cox...Apparently, no one had ever told Two that you're supposed to row at the same time as the other people in the boat....Yeah, that might be a good idea. Three was the newbie, and she had no idea what to do. Frankly, I'm surprised that she knew which end of the oar to row with....I have only three words for Stern Four: Sit. The. Boat. And I swear to God, the rest of us weren't rushing the slide; Stroke just must have been trying to take naps during the recovery...

Pretty amusing, actually. I didn't get mad or frustrated at all; I just sat back and enjoyed the show. I was probably the only one because a) I was at Bow, and you see everything and b) because everyone else couldn't keep their eyes in the boat.

Two: "Wow, rowing sure is hard work. But now I can rest and watch the ferry that's coming, because I'm just kind of sitting here..."
Three: "Hmm, look at all the ducks on the river..."
Four: "My oar is fascinating."
Five: "Mmm, the guys over in the Pembroke College shell look good in that spandex...."
Six: "Oh crap....It's so hard to row right now with the shell listing to my side. Maybe if I take long, pleading looks over my shoulder at the bank coach..."
Seven: "What's Stroke doing? I'll just watch her oar..."
Stroke: "I wonder how long I can make this slide? I guess I'll just stare at the cox and wait for her to tell me when put it in the water..."
Cox: "Umm, we're going to crash again. What should I do? I'll look to the bank coach for direction..."

Priceless. Absolutely priceless. I was trying not to crack up the whole time, because it was just so sad. It's no laughing matter, to be honest, but hey...If we crash, I'll be the one that has to be scraped off whatever we hit.

So it's good to have a sense of humor.