Went to Ann Arbor last night to scull. Wound up rowing. Even better! It was a sultry evening, and I was just setting my scull in the water when the men's captain approached me and informed me that they were short a man, and as they are training for the Head of the Charles, they'd really hate to miss an outing, and would I mind filling in?
Would I mind filling in? Does the Pope shit in the woods? What seat, stud?
5. I'll put your scull away for you.
A perfect record. Every 8 I've ever rowed, I've rowed 5 seat. ~~Born to be F~I~I~I~I~V~E!~~
After about 10 strokes, my back started to bother me. Same injury I had last summer that forced me to switch sides and row port in a novice 4. I became concerned and focused on my posture. After 50 strokes I felt like a babe in arms. Lovely Lou was sitting 6. He's a doll, and always very friendly. I was exceedingly pleased to have him for my view. When the cox yelled "focus on the back of the man in front of you!" I mentally replied "Done, sir!"
The water was flat (it always is on the Huron River), the evening was sultry, Lou was sweating through his T-shirt, the ratio was fabulous, and I was happier than a puppy with two peters.
2 comments:
(scull in oz is slang for drinking entire glass in one go. be careful describing yourself to aussies as a good sculler or you could be invited to join a boat race. which is a race between 2 teams of scullers, aussie style, taking turns sequentially)
fucking brilliant. there aren't enough aussies in my life!
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