I have made a lot of sacrifices for free beer in my time.  As a student in the United States it usually required little more than accepting the smell and seediness that accompanied fraternity parties.  England, however, seems to demand something more in return:  such as racing a group of massive Cornish fishermen, fresh from their respective world championships, in a six man gig down the Cam.      

But the icing on the cake was that we were racing for beer!

Which, I am somewhat puzzled to say, is the position we found ourselves in on Sunday afternoon, when most students in their right mind were sleeping off the effects of their first night back in Cambridge.  

What is a gig?  I still am not exactly sure.  In the simplest terms possible, it is a ten-meter long craft, more suitable for re-enacting childhood pirate fantasies than moving quickly down a river.  Needless to say, as soon as we gave up any hope of actually beating our opponent, it became immediately apparent that rowing a gig is far more fun than rowing a traditional racing shell.  If I put a cannon in the Blue Boat, it would sink.  If I put a cannon in our gig, it would look at home.  There’s likely one in there already.

But the icing on the cake, as previously mentioned, was that we were racing for beer!  And it didn’t matter if we won or not; our sponsor brewery allotted the same amount regardless of outcome.  Which begs the question: why continue on with 180 years of tradition when we could easily just spark up a new rivalry with the Cornish gig champions?  A rivalry with a prize much more tangible and delicious than pride? Ed Cumming’s so-called “definitive” guide to essential Cambridge experiences that graced the pages of last week’s Varsity, might need to be amended to include this essential pastime.  

On a more serious note, preceding Sunday afternoon’s gig race, was our annual triathlon, held at 7 am that morning.  The triathlon is useful as it helps display overall aerobic ability through a medium other than rowing.  Additionally, running, swimming and cycling don’t require a tremendous amount of hand-eye coordination, a skill seemingly diminished with every day on the water.  If, for example, the coaches decided instead to analyze their new team with a friendly football match, they would all likely quit out of fear of losing the Boat Race by a record margin.  For there is a reason we all ended up in a boat, and that reason is that we just aren’t good at anything else.  We were the kids who sat on the pitch picking grass rather than chasing a ball around.

And that’s about it.  I think I speak for everyone in saying we’re all looking forward to the start of term, and the ensuing break in our current monotony of training.

Spencer Hunsberger