Eights Week starts this Wednesday, 28th May, and continues to Saturday 31st. "That's only 4 days" observed my American friend when I told him this some years ago. "Well, racing did go on for a whole week in the olden days," I responded, " But it was reduced to just 4 days over 50 years ago, I believe, because some undergraduates felt that they had to get back to their books. After all, many students have exams at the end of this term."
We were walking through Christ Church Meadow towards the Thames. (I would have called it the Isis, but that would have involved another long verbal tussle). "Quick", I said, "I think there's a race coming." We dashed over to the riverbank. About 5 eights rowed past in single file, and rather spread out too. They looked pretty exhausted. "Is that it?" my trans-Atlantic chum enquired, looking distinctly unimpressed.
"I think we've been a bit unlucky; I should imagine that the other boats all bumped out! Don't worry, there'll be another division starting soon - look, that women's eight is going down to the start at Iffley Lock."
"Very thrilling, I'm sure," he responded, " But what the heck does 'bumped out' mean? Why can't they get on and have a decent race?"
A slightly fuller explanation seemed in order. "The river is too narrow for side by side racing; besides there are about 38 colleges and each has several crews, both men and women. The only way is to race in single file and try to catch the boat in front - you literally touch or hit it. That's a bump, and the next day those 2 boats change places and try again. The eight finishing any particular day at the head of a division (13 crews per division) is called the 'sandwich' boat, and rows again at the foot of the next division. The colleges at the head of division 1 (men and women) on Saturday are 'Head of the River'.
"And I thought cricket was bad enough" he said, scratching his head. I had to admit he still looked rather unconvinced.
"Tell you what, if we get a move on we'll be at the college boathouses before the next race. There's far more atmosphere there: you should hear the cheering if a bump takes place in front of the crowds. You'll like it. There'll be lots of pretty girls in party dresses, chaps sporting their college blazers, and, especially on Saturday, music, BBQs and beer at student prices."
"Sounds better, I admit," he acknowledged. But he had one last go. "I'll bet nobody famous has ever rowed here" he asserted.
I was able to deal with this one: "Remember that row over who invented Facebook? Those twins from Harvard who made millions from that court case rowed for Christ Church recently. And just last year Pembroke College were stroked by an Olympic gold medallist."
"Lead on."
We were walking through Christ Church Meadow towards the Thames. (I would have called it the Isis, but that would have involved another long verbal tussle). "Quick", I said, "I think there's a race coming." We dashed over to the riverbank. About 5 eights rowed past in single file, and rather spread out too. They looked pretty exhausted. "Is that it?" my trans-Atlantic chum enquired, looking distinctly unimpressed.
"I think we've been a bit unlucky; I should imagine that the other boats all bumped out! Don't worry, there'll be another division starting soon - look, that women's eight is going down to the start at Iffley Lock."
"Very thrilling, I'm sure," he responded, " But what the heck does 'bumped out' mean? Why can't they get on and have a decent race?"
A slightly fuller explanation seemed in order. "The river is too narrow for side by side racing; besides there are about 38 colleges and each has several crews, both men and women. The only way is to race in single file and try to catch the boat in front - you literally touch or hit it. That's a bump, and the next day those 2 boats change places and try again. The eight finishing any particular day at the head of a division (13 crews per division) is called the 'sandwich' boat, and rows again at the foot of the next division. The colleges at the head of division 1 (men and women) on Saturday are 'Head of the River'.
"And I thought cricket was bad enough" he said, scratching his head. I had to admit he still looked rather unconvinced.
"Tell you what, if we get a move on we'll be at the college boathouses before the next race. There's far more atmosphere there: you should hear the cheering if a bump takes place in front of the crowds. You'll like it. There'll be lots of pretty girls in party dresses, chaps sporting their college blazers, and, especially on Saturday, music, BBQs and beer at student prices."
"Sounds better, I admit," he acknowledged. But he had one last go. "I'll bet nobody famous has ever rowed here" he asserted.
I was able to deal with this one: "Remember that row over who invented Facebook? Those twins from Harvard who made millions from that court case rowed for Christ Church recently. And just last year Pembroke College were stroked by an Olympic gold medallist."
"Lead on."
