Rowing is a substitute for a personality! This is something I’ve been trying to prove for a while now, but no one ever seems to stick around for long enough for me to explain in adequate detail how our rigging set-up really is cutting edge.  So, in search of a less unexpectedly busy/tired/harried audience, I’ve turned to the internet, in the full knowledge that if you’re bored enough to be on Violet then you’ll be scared enough of finishing your essay to read this. 

Anyway, let me explain why rowing is a substitute for a personality. Firstly, it’s got a lot of personality saved in the bank, seeing as you have to sell your soul the moment you walk through the doors of the boat club there’s more than enough for you to borrow when talking to boring non-boaties (see – we even have slang like all the cool kids).  Speaking of secret languages, we get to use words like “Watts” in its true sense, which has nothing to do with rate of energy transfer (yes, I have Wikipedia) and instead is a unit of how forcefully you can express your inner pain by moving backwards and forwards; “blade”, to show how non-threatening a sport it is; and “cox”, which is exactly what you think it is – we’ve only changed the spelling for reasons of shade-throwing. 

"Who knew that Cambridge had a motorway bridge?  Who knew you got wet while doing a water sport?  Certainly not me!  You see, rowing has made me more interesting because now I can tell you all of these interesting facts."

What’s more, rowing is really interesting and full of rich, diverse, and new experiences.  Who knew moving backwards and forwards with a lever a thousand times in an outing could give you such a new perspective on the stitching of the person in front’s super high-tech wicking training top.  Who knew that Cambridge had a motorway bridge?  Who knew you got wet while doing a water sport?  Certainly not me!  You see, rowing has made me more interesting because now I can tell you all of these interesting facts.

Since you asked – yes, of course, I’ll tell you how bumps works!  The truth is, I don’t know either.  Nobody does.  All they tell you is to line up and start rowing when the cannon fires (yes, there’s a cannon) but if you do well, and again, I’m not quite sure what qualifies as doing well, you win the right to buy an oar with your name on it.  Exciting! 

It really is exciting. You might get to put an impractically long object on your insufficiently wide accommodation wall and tell everyone about it for the rest of your life.  It’s a conversation starter!  Unfortunately, the jealousy it arouses is usually also a conversation ender, but never mind. All I’m saying is, it’s not idolatry and rowing is not a cult! 

I’ll prove to you it’s not a cult.  The fact that the coach’s main piece of coaching usually involves the phrase “buy into the ideology” is irrelevant, as is the fact that our lives are dictated by a flag (you must obey the flag).  And even though the entire sport is controlled by a shadow organisation whose name is an indecipherable acronym (CUCBC), it’s not a cult!

Friendly rant over.  Thanks for listening. It is actually a great sport filled with devoted and supportive individuals. Don’t knock it until you try it. And anyway, quoting Camfessions is hardly a substitute for a personality either.