I actually do look like this.
Fun fact: I've recently discovered the joy that is black lycra leggings and I now cannot be found wearing anything else. But that's not the point. I just wanted to say that, yes, I am a boatie. In fact, if I remember correctly, when this blog was first launched it was known as "True Confessions of a Boatie". There weren't any true confessions (plenty of fake ones), but plenty of boatie-ism. Because I was a boatie. And thus that means that everything I wrote was a boatie-ism. Simple mathematics.
You may have noticed that I've become somewhat disillusioned with the whole rowing phenomenon recently. This was presumably after I realised that, after three solid years of rowing, I hadn't won anything (except a mini Christmas Pudding and a "Well done for being a finallist" medal from a race in which we were straight finallists). That kind of prolonged level of failure starts to grate, like an endless cheesegrater that's being slowly drawn across your skin. There's no pressure on that cheesegrater, but after a couple of hours, that skin's gonna start to grate off on top of my pasta of PAIN. This lack of success eventually led to a deep-seated spiritual depression and deep-seated belief that getting hit by a car would be preferable to continuing rowing training.* I was even considering (whisper this) quitting rowing. But now, I'm so glad I didn't, for three simple reasons:
1: Lycra leggings. These things are literally the best legwear EVER.
2: We no longer have to do a 1.6 mile long run before every training session. Instead, they've implemented some sort of weird warm up exercise circle that has us dancing around the car park, jumping in the air and clapping our hands like a bunch of deranged fools, before hopping about, jigging, and pretending to chop wood. Seriously. Still, it's better than the run.
3: I AM IN THE SECOND EIGHT!** For those who don't understand, this is extremely good news. Like, the best news ever for me. Well, the best boatie-related news ever. The best news ever for me would probably have the headline Extremely Attractive Blogger wins Pulitzer Prize for Chainsawzombie.Blogspot.Com Website, Gets Paid Lots of Money, Runs Away with Extremely Attractive (But Mute) Woman. But the Second Eight is a pretty damn good achievement, and for one simple reason: When you are in the Second Eight, you tend to win things. Well, usually. For some reasons, boats that I am in tend to not win things. I've never been in a winning boat for anything... just unlucky I guess, to continually not be put in the boat that wins. But to understand how amazing this development is for me, you need to understand the entire hierachy of boats in the boat club. They run like so: The Four, The Fourth Eight, The Third Eight, The Second Eight, The First Eight.
The Four: This is the boat for the left-overs, the dregs, the concentration camp survivors. Rowers in this boat are generally considered to be the lowest of the low (not by me though, I have an open mind and I once saw Ghandi. The film, not the man). The rowers that have had debilitating injuries, are kind of fat, are missing limbs due to landmines or laprosy (like leprosy, but with extra laps), are blind, or have no legs, these are the ones that get put in the four. The four is the most fucked-with boat in the entire boathouse. Due to illnesses amongst the rest of the boaties, they usually have about one outing a year. They spend the rest of the time filling in for the other boats, going in singles, or digging up and re-ploughing the car park. Members of the four, considered subhuman by many of the boat club, are often sold into slavery for malt-loaf money, or are forced to fight to the death in a series of deadly arenas known only as "The Four Gauntlets" . To be honest, the Four is only used as a threat in our boat club - "TURN UP TO TRAINING TOMORROW, OR SO HELP ME GOD, I'LL PUT YOU IN THE FOUR!". It's also used as a fear-incentive for people who are in...
The Fourth Eight: There isn't a Fourth Eight this year. This boat only exists when there are just too many people to have only three eights and a four. The Fourth Eight isn't allowed an actual boat to row in (it's considered a wasted resource on them) and they're usually just told to sit in a row on the floor and just MIME rowing. Quietly. On the other hand, the Fourth Eight has more priveleges than the Four. They're allowed to go to the toilet INSIDE the boat-club (as opposed to just being told to soil themselves), and sometimes a kindly member of the Third Eight will allow a Fourth-Eighter to carry his bag up to the changing room for him.
The Fourth Eight is possibly the most depressing boat to be in, as there's still that glimmer of hope of getting into the Third Eight. This never happens, and the continual crushing of hope can really take it out of you. Also, did I mention that the Four, the Fourth Eight, and the Third Eight are all trained by the same coach, who really only cares about the Third Eight? In conclusion, the Fourth Eight is a depressing place to be in the middle of.
I was in the middle of the Fourth Eight last year. During that time, I tried to commit suicide fifteen times. Nobody noticed.
The Third Eight: This is the first approaching-respectable boat. If you manage to get into the Third Eight from the Fourth, you'll notice an immediate upsurge in your quality of life. For one thing, people call you by your name, instead of 'Fourth-eighter SCUM!" And you're no longer kept in a cage in the boat-club basement when you're not needed. Also, when you're in the Third Eight, you can band together with other Third Eighters and, if you're lucky, capture a member of the Fourth Eight while he's making a river crossing and feast on his soft succulent flesh.
I was in the Third Eight for a month this year. Its the first of the boats that the Head Coach (our lord and master) even mentions in his motivational speeches -
" Right, lads, I want us to get a really fast First, Second, and Third Eight this year! Oh yeah, and the Fourth Eight and the Four too. They can try their best. Bless them."
*Sees a Fourth-Eighter sniffing around for scraps*
"Are you in the Fourth Eight, son? Aww, have a sweetie. Woah! Don't touch him, lads, he might be contageous."
Members of the Third Eight are often good enough to row in the Second Eight, but get temporarily muscled out due to sheer numbers (cough). This leads to large amounts of repressed anger/cage fighting amongst the members of the Third Eight.
The Second Eight: Wayhey. This is where the - well I can't say respect, I guess I'll say 'recognition' - starts to come in. You know that old saying? "In dee boat cloob, first yew get the yaylow layycra, then yew get the Third Eight, then you get the weemen, then you get the Second Eight, then you get the power.***" Basically, when you're in the Second Eight, you get your own personal minibus. And a coach (coach as in 'man who orders us about', not coach as in 'thing that's like a bus but isn't'). And your own fancy rowing oars. And a little servant robot called RodneyGaleBot which you can use to crush your enemies. And smite the rest of the boat club. Also, when you're in the Second Eight, you're allowed to take the food/clothing/organs of anybody in the lower boats. You also get given a discipline cane which you can use to beat the younger boaties until they respect you. It's a good life, and a tough responsibility, but it's worth it overall.
The First Eight: We lower-rowers don't see much of First Eight. They live in their own private temple, constructed on top of the Boat Club. If we want to commune with them, perhaps to ask for their opinions on some personal matter, we must sacrifice twelve french lambs to their shrine, along with eight plump malt loaves. Then, and only then, will one of them perhaps command his personal slave to carry him down on his sedan chair. The First Eight don't have to walk anywhere. In fact, they don't even have to row anywhere. Their boat, which is made with military technology, travels at supersonic speeds at a flick of a switch. The First Eight can also order drugs, guns, money or women whenever they feel like it. It's the ultimate desire of every boatie to be a First Eighter one day.
The Boat Club: it's a harsh, harsh environment. Few Survive. So you can see how joyous I am to have finally risen to the level of "Second Eighter". It's an achievement. It really is.
Not a single word of this post was a lie. Or an exaggeration.
*The 'getting hit by a car' plan I had got worked out to fine details. Basically, I would be hit while crossing the road by some sort of fast moving ambulance-car made out of rubber. I would be knocked unconscious immediately, would not feel any pain whatsoever and would wake up in hospital a few hours later with no permanent injuries. I'd be the only one hurt by the collision, and I'd get to miss a month of school. However, it would be during the winter term, the time when school is boring and cold anyway, and I would do all my homework on computer and drink lots of coffee. My wounds would consist of a really cool (non uglifying) scar on my cheek that makes me look like a bit of an upstart urban-rebel from Chino and a broken bone, probably a leg. However, it would be a simple break that takes a few weeks to fix, and I'd be given some cool pogo-crutches after a few days. The entire school would be buzzing with the news of my exciting near-death encounter, everyone would send me cards and visit me and I'd be the most popular boy in school. Meanwhile, my parents would buy me lots of presents to fill up the monotony of being stuck in a bed, not knowing that being stuck in a bed is like my number one dream. I'd catch up with my reading and finally write the great British novel, before emerging from my period of convalescence more intelligent and better adjusted than I am at the moment. However, I would be unable to rejoin the Boat Club, as I would have 'missed too many weeks of training' and would instead take up a better sport like 'private study at home' and would go to lots of parties. I would then have quit rowing with absolutely no loss of face.
No, I don't see how getting hit by a car could POSSIBLY have any negative side effects.
**An 'eight' is a kind of boat. It contains 7 rowers.
***This was meant to be a Scarface style Cuban accent. I'm sorry.
No comments:
Post a Comment