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| The Cygnet Blog 2001 |
Xmas, 25/12/01
A very happy Xmas from your dedicated team of blog writers and editors. Here's hoping for a very webby 2002.
Is the Vice Captain Competent, 16/12/01
OK, so let's imagine you are a newly appointed and enthusiatic but inexperienced vice captain, and as a confidence boosting exercise the committee has given you the simple task of ordering a set of sculls for a quad. How many would you order? Hint - it's not 4. Answers on a postcard to the usual address.
The Cygnet Xmas Boathouse Luncheon, 16/12/01
Once again the traditional luncheon was well attended by Cygnet members old and new. Some members of BBLRC were also seen skulking in the corners. Shouldn't they have been washing up after the Ball?
Anyway, your usual blog correspondent was otherwise engaged, so this in from a stringer...
Turkey's Travels:
It was noted, with some admiration, that during last weekend's events one of the four turkeys for the Ladies' Ball made an extensive tour of the Thameside area. This manuscript was later found on a kitchen floor in Mortlake.
Trip 1 (Friday): The wind was southerly as I and my three brave companions set off on a bright crisp day from Castlenau to Mortlake. Arriving at our destination, there was some temporary unpleasantness involving a rather intimate invasion of my innards and an oven, but otherwise the trip was uneventful.
Trip 2 (Saturday): Eastward Ho for Thames RC in Putney for the BBLRC Christmas Ball. Here I received much appreciation for my (admittedly rather splendid) appearance in the dining hall. However, we seem to have lost Bertie and Charles.
Trip 3 (Sunday afternoon): Still no sign of B and C, as Toby and I set sail for the boathouse in Chiswick. Here we imbibed the delicious odours of Irish coffee, to the merry clink and chatter of the Christmas lunch party. Toby lost a leg, to his annoyance, and eventually became carried away entirely. Have not seen him for some time.
Trip 4 (Sunday night): Somewhat concerned about disappearance of erstwhile companions. Unable, however, to resist the call of the charming little village across the river named Barnes. Caught a lift to the High Street. As I pen these words I can smell the delicious wafts of hot sage, parsley and breadcrumbs. . . Ah. Oh, not again.
Balls, 15/12/01
Once again, BBLRC proved to be by far our superiors when it comes to organising a piss-up in a brewery, erm Ball. As early as 09:00 they could be spotted cutting tomatoes and chopping lettuce, and apparently several large pieces of meat were getting put into dark places where they spluttered and spurted for several hours. Oh, hang on, I think I'm getting a bit ahead of myself.
For the MEN the evening started early with the customary Waddle, albeit a little abbreviated, from The Fox on Putney High Street, to (ultimately) Thames RC on Putney embankment. The Waddle Organiser (a committee position from next year) was gartified [hic.] to see more than the traditional 4 attendees, and at one point he counted 18, although things were getting a little blury. He was also pleased to count at least 6 females, which by his reckoning meant one breast per male Waddler. Just enough to go round.
The Waddlers arrived punctually at Thames RC for the mulled wine reception, and hadn't BBLRC done well. Balloons, a fabulous spread of food and drink, and some of the most beautiful ladies seen along the riverbank for many a year. We really are spoilt.
Most of the rest of the evening followed in a haze of food and drink and dancing and cleavage. Some people took their jackets off too early, and some kept them on far too long, but all agreed that they'd done jolly well.
Unfortunately there was no gossip to report.
Erotic Sex, 11/12/01
The staff at your "daily" blog were heartened to hear that Damo and Tan had made a brief sojourn to the Erotic Sex Show, 2001 held last week in the exhibition halls at Kensington Olympia.
Although feigning coyness, it wasn't too long before Damo was holding court on the subject of his newly acquired toy.
It really doesn't bear thinking about.
The Fours Head, 11/11/01
There was much amusement in the S24- as they watched the Prima-Donna's stroke-man throw a dizzy-fit when their bow-man showed up 40 minutes late. Unfortunately they couldn't turn the situation to their advantage by becoming the fastest Cygnet boat on display as they crashed into a Maidenhead RC coxed four shortly before Hammersmith Bridge. Nobody was injured and the Cygnet crew eventually rowed on. Unfortunately the Maidenhead crew were forced to retire which they did in the traditional way, by shouting "you f*****g c***s" at the quickly disappearing Cygnet crew. The S24-'s steersman could later be found in the bar disguised as Osama Bin Ladin as he suspected this would make him more popular with any passing Maidenhead RC oarsmen.
It was a lovely surprise for all Cygnet crews to find Richard du Parcq marshalling outside London RC as he was able to offer words of encouragement to each passing crew as they started the long pull back to Barnes. The stroke-man of the S14- crew was (apparently) particularly vocal in his thanks.
Note to self - next year let's try to enter at least one crew that has rowed together more than 4 times!
An exceptional turnout in the bar afterwards (we emptied both barrels - very Tarantino) was extended into an all-afternoon drinking binge when somebody suggested that instead of walking over the bridge for food we let the food walk over the bridge to us. 45 minutes later 10 pizzas turned up and all was quiet (apart from the odd fart of contentment - but that's the Ladies' Captain for you).
A gaggle of ladies excused themselves for an hour to hold a selection meeting in their changing boudoir. They were, obviously, much missed and the disconsolate men spent the time drinking tequila and reorganising their top 5 BBLRC most-shaggable-girls-of-all-time (lots of new entries but number 2 a non-mover).
It all petered out at about 19:00. But as one wise old head commented, "it's not when it finishes, but what you do with it that counts". Nobody understood it then either but he did have his knob out at the time.
Remember Remember the Third of November, 03/11/01
One of the best firework parties at the boathouse in living memory started early for a large number of helpers. The men built the bonfire and erected erections and carried heavy tins and cooked chili and guffawed. The women cleaned the bar and ambient room and kitchen and chopped and made rice and giggled. But we all came together to make the Guy. Who's says we're an old fashioned club?
Dargan even got some beer in.
Everybody drank too much and fell over and had a very good time watching the fireworks and eating and not getting burned and stuff. Nothing else happened.
How Many is Too Many, 27-28/10/01
The Civil Service boathouse was very busy this weekend. Whatever happened to the days when 2 fours and a single went out. You can't move for new novices. By my reckoning at least 6 mens' fours went out and four ladies', plus a couple of eights and assorted sculls. It's all very alarming. Some of the new ladies look like they might be quite useful too (washing up and hoovering, that kind of thing).
Borg 2 of 4 was dropped from the S2- boat to the S3+ boat for issuing dodgy calls during ten-minute pieces. Dr. Borg 4 of 4 Ph.D. will take his place.
On Sunday we left Pete Leffler banging in the back of the boathouse. He has just got engaged after all.
Cafe Aroma, 20/10/01
Fours Head crews have been "selected" by "senior" club members and four crews have been entered so everybody thought it might be a good idea to go for a couple of light paddles prior to the race. Most of those selected met in the White Hart on Friday night to discuss tactics and slag off the selectors. A few even went for a spinach heavy curry.
The latest, greatest sport for Cygnet rowers is spotting Putney Town crews and enquiring whether they're in THAT calendar. A particularly attractive ladies 2X were approached at about 08:45, Geordie using the "I've got an Instamatic in my pocket AND I'm pleased to see you" gambit. They sculled off...
The best thing about an early outing (apparently) is that it frees the rest of the morning to watch someone called Cat Deeley and compete in things like Challenge Ant and Wonky Donkey (Snotty Scottie today, for anyone who's interested).
The male members of the club who had squashed themselves into the TV room (for said Cat viewing) were particularly pleased to note the new influx of female novices. You could almost hear the lycra flex as six sets of flabby stomachs were sucked in each time an unknown blonde in a one-piece slinked by on her way to the ladies changing lounge. One particularly attractive one even sat down and watched the TV briefly. None of the men spoke to her since that would have involved breathing out.
Lastly Medium Mike (part of the previous evenings curry party) let go of a small fart which cleared the boathouse. He did apologise, and we suspect he meant it too. Everybody went home...
The Rhine Marathon, 05-07/10/01
Day One (Friday)...
...found an elite advance party liaising at Dusseldorf HBF to check out the lie of the land. Alan (who insisted on wearing a rucksack and carrying a large unfolded street-map) lead the group towards the river studiously ignoring all attempts by local people to offer assistance. The group, consisting of Alan (h'officer), Tony (transport), Mike (drinking) and Dargs (explosives) started with a plan to visit improving local sites of historical and cultural significance. Then Mike found the man-with-a-(beer-selling)-van in Marketplasse and the rest, as they say, was history (hic).
Having secured the city, the group proceded to Benrath (a "suburb" just south of Dusseldorf) at about 16:30 (having been drinking solidly since the morning). After letting Tony check into his hotel (softie) on the way and making friends with a group of small boys who were eating Americans (they breed them tough in Benrath) the platoon finally made their way to Benrath boathouse. Finding it shut (apart from some menacing guard dogs) they sought sanctuary in a nearby hotel where, fortunately, the bar was open. A few beers later and another attempt was made to enter the boathouse, this one proving more successful (the door was open). Dargs laid several explosives nonetheless.
From a slightly shaky memory the rest of the evening proceeded as follows. Beer; beer; friendly German rowers; beer; beer; Spaghetti Bolognese w/beer; beer; beer; beer; beer; glamorous barmaid; ouzo; ouzo; ouzo; beer; bed. During the evening six more people turned. Being Danielle, Greg, Kate, Pete, Bea and Wayne. Nobody in the advance party really remember that happening (particularly Dargs as he had passed out on a bench). It's an amazing thing to watch an expert lay explosives in his sleep - what a treat. The hard-core (well Mike and Pete at least) stayed up imbibing Ouzo (Pete) and falling rapturously in love with the barmaid (Mike - not reciprocated) until about 02:30. Great race preparation boys!
We also spent some time with Anna (the boy's lovely cox) perfecting the calls she would use the following day. Having been presented with a complete list of English/German calls the crew decided to cut things to:
Day Two (Saturday)...
...at 08:00 the lights came on but nobody was home. After a Nutella, toast, cheese and ham fuelled breakfast the Cygnet athletes poured themselves into a minibus for the short drive to the start of the Marathon. Amid much holding of heads and stomachs the crews devised cunning race plans to guarantee several pots per crew (and if you believe that you'll believe anything). The boats were rigged and coxes allocated and the first crew took to the water at some time after 10:00. Dargs, still drunk from the night before, laid a very powerful stealth explosive that went off so prematurely that he was caught in his own crossfire. Unfortunately this caused his legs to crumble and he dropped the boat.
The slightly hung over mens crew put the boat in the water and gingerly pushed off, took a few strokes and got a taste of things to come. No two blades hit the water at the same time and you could hear the groans of the "oarsmen" as they contemplated 26 miles of the same. We spun the boat and off we "went" shortly followed after by the mixed (better) crew.
Speaking personally (whoever I am) the race can be broken down as folows:
All of that wouldn't have been too bad, except that at the end of the row you have to turn and paddle back to the pontoon which takes as least as long as the whole marathon. Then you have to clamber out of the boat and lift it out of the water. Then you have to carry the boat up a steep slope before hurling it uncaringly onto a waiting trolley. Then you have to start drinking beer because it's the thing to do, but it's the LAST thing you really want (until you've had a couple).
Post-race involved showers (not unisex as keenly anticipated), a frenzy of pink icing covered cakes and, yes, continual beer. We attended a very impressive prize-giving ceremony and were dismayed to learn that we seemed to be the only club who hadn't actually won anything (which in itself was probably worth a prize). The job-of-the-day belonged to a rather handsome German oarsmen who handed over the prizes to those people flukey enough to get on the podium. The general consensus was that he spent a lot longer congratulating the girls than the boys, or was Dargan just being jealous?
Day Three (Sunday)...
[ToDo]...
Many thanks to all at Benrath for their hospitality.
The "Cygnets" Autumn Sculling Camp, 29-30/09/01
You can assume that this blog entry will start an interesting email flame-fest on the nature of plagiarism. Your blog editor (whoever she is) is above such trivia.
Camp started with a select band of willing helpers (and Geordie) loading the trailer. Acute confusion reigned for most of this due to the fact that people kept asking Lifestyle awkward questions about boats she knew nothing about. Fortunately she had very strong views on how to tie boats onto the trailer and proceeded to tell several VERY senior Cygnets how they were going wrong. Much appreciated.
Saturday started (badly) with Alan and L'style moving the trailer themselves in the pouring rain but they were on our way at about 08:00. We arrived at...
...blah blah backstays blah...
...rhubarb rhubarb riggers rhubarb...
...waffle waffle seats waffle...
...some people went sculling, and then Geordie started drinking. "A girl came up to me in a bar and asked for a double-entendre, so I gave her one". Tickled me anyway. And I quote(ish) a BBLSRC lifestyle advisor...
Tragically no-one remembered to bring a camera, but the funniest episode would not have been captured anyway. I think the story runs something like this. Geordie decides to meet friends in Weybridge, and goes to the Weybridge side with Lynda and Chris as they are leaving. Kevin drops them all off in the dinghy and returns to the bungalow. Being a helpful sort of chap Geordie helps to hold Lynda's single for her, and drops his mobile phone into the water (that's three dead phones in three weeks, perhaps the clubs should buy shares in Nokia). He dives in to try to find it and spends some minutes doing a good impression of a [shite] pearl diver trying to rescue it. The river proves to be very deep at this point [4 feet], but Lynda brightly suggests that they put a scull in to mark the spot and this time SUCCESS. Well he found it. It didn't work though! So off he goes to drip on his friends in the pub. Problem now is that he is on the wrong side of the river, his phone doesn't work so he can't call us to come and get him and he doesn't know the traditional cry of LUGGER LUGGER to call someone to fetch him. So he decides to swim (NB this is not to be recommended, especially when it's dark, you have been drinking, are fully clothed, have to hold your shoes above your head and protect your wallet and now defunct mobile phone. There are a couple of hairy moments, but he gets there in the end and all he can think of is "Hot Shower" but despite there being palenty [sic] of hot water our man from Morpeth can't figure out how to make it work! Perhaps his swimming expedition didn't sober him up enough? OK so it is getting quite late now and the rest of us are getting a little concerned (well as much as you can be when it's Geordie). We decide to drink up and move on to Weybridge Rowing club where Geordie might be (being on the Weybridge side we hadn't thought he'd swim) we're just finishing when the intrepid "adventurer/tosser" arrives. He then spends the next 20 minutes retelling all his escapades far better than your humble [yeah right] editor and taking the opportunity to clutch a certain lady's hand for far longer than was absolutely necessary just to prove how cold he was [rubbish]. Much beer later and we returned to the bungalow where Ian got his second wind and kept some of us up for several hours past our normal bedtimes.
Stan rolled up on Sunday and did some very useful coaching and nobody fell in. The End.
Re-Trifle, erm no, Re-Tiramisu, no still not right, Re-Torte, ah there you go, 16/09/01
The following scandalous (not to mention gramatically and syntactically incorrect) text recently appeared on the BBLRC website...
"The Barnes coxless 4 (in Rocky IV) had a good outing, whipping the lardy asses from Cygnet, especially when they went aground between Putney and Hammersmith - ha ha ha. Good one Gavin !!"
First of all the crew that went out was not "lardy". I would estimate the average body fat percentage of the 4 oarsmen involved to be around 6.21 and most of that is round Mark Wilson's middle (he promises it will be gone by the Fours Head). Secondly we...oops...they did not "run aground". An emergency steering manoeuvre was undertaken to avoid a family of geese who were out for a leisurely Sunday paddle. Thirdly, we were not whipped (how can you be whipped if you don't know that you're racing). We averaged about 18spm for the whole outing and didn't once take it over half pressure. Contrast that with the BBLRC crew who were obviously pulling their guts out to keep ahead. Lastly, let's see some of these ladies erg times before anybody takes the piss out of us, and don't forget that there's no reason for male coxes not to have a go too!
It's a good job that I love them all.
Puke, 31/08/01
Ten fearless oarsmen braved the Hell that is centraal London on Friday night to celebrate another outstanding year for Cygnet RC in a traditional (Belgian) stylee. After top scoff, beer, and scintillating conversation - except for tour-bore Golda who wouldn't stop talking about the bloody Fours Head - the group repaired to the gutter where one outstanding senior 4 rower marked his territory for the evening in a very rainbolic style. On closer investigation one could make out what looked like schnapps soaked mussels (along with the de-rigger carrots, obviously).
On to the Lamb and Flag (which has unfortunately become oh so trendy) to imbibe more flavoured juices and to spend most of the evening banging our heads on their very low toilet doors. Here several of the male members waved the amalgamation flag for BBLRC by talking loudly to anything in a skirt that looked like it might be able to pull them off...erm...I mean pull an oar. Kandy (with a "K") was the most promising oarswoman, but unfortunately she had to leave shortly after initial contact as she was washing her hair later that evening. To my almost certain knowledge nobody threw up in the Lamb and Flag - "it just wasn't that kind of place". Golda continued to talk about the Fours Head.
We were joined in the pub by representatives of Har Majesty's Commonwealth Forces for a first hand demonstration of where our hard-earned tax dollars go. On a more positive note several rowers discovered a certain tintillating thrill in being saluted by lady RAF types.
A few of the less serious athletes then decided to depart for the evening so that they could projectile vomit in the comfort of their own baths. For the more actively training members who wanted to push themselves to the limit the Roadhouse (and its enormous queue) beckoned. Medium Mike (a very laid back kind of person) was all for kicking off a drunken brawl with two little twats who decided it was a good idea to push into the queue in front of him. Fortunately more sensible heads prevailed.
Once in the Roadhouse everything became a blur of vodka and red bull induced paranoia. Several arses were pinched but it was often hard to tell who was doing what and with which and to whom. Mark Wilson danced maniacally and Her Majesty's Forces kopped off with anything in a skirt between taking long draws on what can only be described as cigarettes.
And to crown it all, Mike once again lost his cloakroom ticket and had to go through the excrutiating embarassment that is telling beautiful cloakroom girls that the family size pack of 48 condoms in his sponge bag were for a friend.
THANK GOD THE SEASON'S OVER!!!
The Cygnet Bungalow BBQ, 18/08/01
The Bunglerow is dead - Long live the Bunglebike...
Well not quite dead in fact but present in the sole (and waif like) persons of Steve and Dom in Ye White Hart (2-) who valiantly, some might say foolishly, rowed from the Boathouse to the Bungalow negotiating all four locks on the way. This it seems was not without difficulty since the Environment Agency (EA) refuse to issue river licences ahead of time unless you have the boat present or you go through a postal service taking ten days. Since this was (as ever) a last minute set up the licence had to be bought on the day. I don't know how they got out at Teddington, but apparently they did and this was not their only problem either with lock keepers being concerned for their safety insisting on their being last into the lock.
The only other Cygnet contingent travelling under their own steam were Steve Dargan and Peter Leffler who had a fast and uneventful ride up the towpath arriving an hour and a half later for a very welcome pint of Pride and the beginning of the BBQ. Despite strenuous efforts during the preceding week it had proved too much to organise crews and logistics for the full on Bunglerow of previous years - hence the necessity for a Bunglebike. Another time there might be potential to integrate the Bunglerow with the Bunglebike as a way of providing coaching from the bank and or fresh oarsmen/women and coxes along the way. Maybe next year...
The BBQ was well attended by about 60, mainly older members, friends and family but with small but representative groups from both Cygnet and BBLRC active members. With Ronnie's first-rate organisation and his sons excellent cooking a fine time was had by all with the wet weather holding off at least until late afternoon. For some of the BBLRC contingent this was the first visit to the Bungalow and most were quick to appreciate the value attached to it by Cygnet members. New planting was in evidence in the garden and less obvious though perhaps more importantly Alan and Nick have been hard at work to renew all of the electrical wiring.
In closing spare a thought for Steve and Dom who had to row back the next day through some of the most torrential and squally rain of the summer. Well done guys and good luck in the Boston Marathon.
Peterborough Summer Regatta, 11-12/08/01
Thursday night saw the customary loading of boats. Two 4+'s a 4- a quad and a double. Golda-Man, latter day Knight of the road, "volunteered" to tow. Our thanks to Golda for whom this is not an easy option living, as he does, somewhere green and leafy in the back of beyond.
The big day and all did not go quite according to plan with a hold up en route causing the late arrival of the trailer. Unfortunately Leah and Lorna missed their 2x race and the S2 4- had to rush to make it to the start line for their first race.
Conditions on the day could best be described as - well several descriptions come to mind, but the most printable would be - overcast and blowing most of a gale. The wind was down the course from start to finish making even getting to the start an effort. With a slight crosswise bias in the wind direction the best draw was lane one, getting progressively worse towards lane 4. Water conditions graduated from fairly sheltered by the stake boats to lumpy enough to make you think you were rowing the HORR near the finish in lane 4.
As luck would have it the S2 boys drew lane 4 alongside an empty lane 3 and from there their luck deteriorated with steering problems and all the rest resulting in an early visit to the bar.
The BBLRC S3 4+ fared no better despite their recent winning form having a boat-stopper near the start resulting in an early retirement. They calculated that the race had cost approximately £1 per stroke.
The Mens S4 4+ meanwhile had a kinder first heat draw in lane 1 coming in 2nd by a narrow squeak to go to the repecharge. As new combination with no regatta experience worth mentioning this year this was a pleasing result (yes the author was in that boat). Unfortunately the draw put our plucky lads in lane 4 in the repecharge and despite a more confident row the author wishes to draw a discreet veil over the unfortunate result (well OK then we were last).
Suffice it to say that the festivities began earlier than any would have wanted and many a sore head was to result from the BBQ and the ensuing dancing.
At some point in the night it came on to rain, still blowing a gale and it was a wet and unpleasant site that greeted the happy campers next morning.
Sunday as you know is the 500m sprint event and notwithstanding that fact day 2 was all too close to a repeat of Saturday. The S2 4- had a much happier row again with an unfortunate lane draw to come in 4th of a very close finish.
BBLRC’s S3 4+ won their heat easily to progress to a late final, while the Cygnet S4 4+ rated out of their socks to again come in second and go to lane 4 in the repecharge. By this time a pattern had grooved in and despite the crew’s best row of the weekend and a very close finish we came in 4th again for an early shower and copious quantities of burgers and beer.
Meanwhile Lorna and Leah raced in their composite Quad with their arch rivals from Putney Town and creditably came in second on a close finish in their second outing as a crew and their first ever race. Not satisfied with this they then doubled (in the double) at S3 cruising into the final and winning in style. Make that 7 pots to BBLRC is there no stopping them?
All this winning made for a late finish and it was a weary group which awaited Iain’s arrival with the trailer at the Boathouse, but many hands did their usual trick and everything was rapidly stowed away. Thanks again to Iain for the otherwise thankless task of towing the trailer. Thanks also to Alan for having acted as Clerk of Race Entries.
You SHALL go to the Ball, 06/08/01
What a fabulous night. Almost magical.
For a select few it all kicked off at around 16:00 with a VERY successfull Waddle in really quite attrocious conditions. The only slightly embarrasing thing was that the Waddle co-ordinator hadn't been able to co-ordinate a bar key, so the wait at the boathouse was a little dry. Once Steve Keating had put on his DJ (just what was he doing in the changing room) we all made a start. Looking fabulous, it was only about 50 yards before we had our first female contact and this proved to be a theme at all the establishments that we attended. We had Balders with us though, so nothing happened.
Four hours later we "Waddled" into the Duke's Head for a swift couple before not being late for the Kir Royale reception. I think there was a man in a fez, but I can't be sure.
And didn't everybody look fantastic? And wasn't the food marvelous? And wasn't the setting romantic? To be honest it all passed in a bit of a blur. So to summarise. Kir Royale reception (your editor thinks he had six of them) drunk in a heady state of cultural bliss. This was followed by an hour of refined imbibing and intelligent conversation. Then the (amazing) buffet was served and everybody went a bit quiet for a while. Then the disco really kicked in with lots of whirling and thumping and flashing. At least three pairs of knickers were removed, but nobody it too sure why they came off or where they went or if, indeed, the ladies were helped by gallant gentlemen in any way. Towards the end of the evening the Waddle co-ordinator was seen drinking dregs from unfinished pints, eating cheese off of strangers plates and pouring fish-oil down ladies dresses. Quality (as they say).
To Waddle or...Not, 01/08/01
Barnes Bridge Ladies, again never missing a chance to tell us what to do (via email)...
Dear Waddle Coordinator,
This is just to remind you that, as waddle co ordinator, I am placing you wholly responsible for all attendees on Saturday (whether you accept it or not).
Whilst it will be a pleasure to receive your group at the venue, I trust you will adhere to the following requisites...
1) The group will arrive at 8pm for the kir royale reception - the reception only lasts for a finite period (the first hour), failure to arrive promptly will result in omission of each attendees complimentary drink.
2) Whilst it is hoped the attendees will arrive in an upbeat and gleeful mood, it will be expected that none will arrive in a drunken mess. However, it is expected they leave the ball at the end of the evening in a drunken mess.
3) A dress code has been stipulated (black tie/stewards dress). It is expected that attendees remain smartly clad for their arrival at the venue. All attendees must be wearing full, clean, undamaged attire. All females substituting glamorous shoes with pumps during the duration of the waddle are expected to change into the appropriate crippling footwear before entry.
If we can respect all these commonsense guidelines, a fabulous time will be had by all.
Many thanks, Unnamed BBLRC Sociopathic Lady.
...to which the Waddle Coordinator, who DOES like a good Kir Royale - particularly if it's complimentary (ie. 25.00 quid), replied...
Hell's Teeth. Who/what do you think I am?
I shall, of course, be encouraging all Waddlers to behave as I would in such a situation - apart from Steve Keating, whom it will be my pleasure to deliver to the ball as a hopelessly bevvied-up mess, with the sexual capacity of a two year-old. Try calling him a bloody "Stallion" then, will you!
Just for these tirades I am dropping you all off of The Cygnet MSG-BBLRC list - apart from number two, who retains her place on merit, obviously.
Rgds, The (return of the) Borg Collective.
...one-nil to Cygnet - don't you agree?
The Great Concept II Battery Scandal, 31/07/01
Pete Leffler - who loves this sort of thing - is compiling an Excel Spreadsheet with expected/projected Concept II digital screen PMT thing battery life. To this end, he has placed a small sticker over the battery compartment of each of our ergs asking users to inform him of the date and time (24 hour clock format) when the batteries are next changed. Obviously there is room for some fun here. There will be a small alcoholic prize for anyone who can remove a sticker, steal the battery and replace the sticker from an erg without Pete knowing.
Pete will next be graphing Cygnet mug usage against type of beverage consumed. Please watch this space for more information. He can be found most training nights sitting hunched in the corner of the bar muttering about launch tyre pressures and scratched blades. Do not approach him.
Lurve is in the Air, 28-29/07/01
At least it was at St Neots. Problem is that nobody tells me anything anymore because they know that I rush home and get out my little laptop. However, this quote from the BBLRC website gives us a clue..."oops - nearly forgot, someone thought they saw Helen S kissing a strange man". Does anyone have any details of who this "lucky" fella might be, or for which side he might bat...erm...row?
St Neots Regatta, 28-29/07/01
Another fabulous winning regatta for Cygnet. Will the pots ever stop. On Saturday a superbly stern-rowed mixed S14+ stormed to victory. Then on Sunday our Elite Pair did their duty and bought home a couple of pots (well there are two of them). All very exciting. We're not sure, but we have heard a rumour that some of the ladies rowed too, but we don't think they did very well.
Medium Mike is Rubbish, 24/07/01
Poor veteran novice sculling rower (of 5 years standing - well slumping) Medium Mike Collier was distraught to find a postcard from the ARA in his pidgeon-HOLE prior to training. The text read (and I quote) "Dear Rubbish, give it up - you're rubbish, signed The ARA". Medium Mike continues to train...
Week Ending Sunday 22/07/01
The Captain's Birthday drink at the White Hart found a disparate group sharing roast potatoes and nonsense conversation. Very well done.
Week Ending Sunday 15/07/01
Friday 13th involved an evening outing in the new ladies eight for Damo (as a stand-in for Sarah Fromme-Tees who was hosting the world's most unsuccessful dinner party). Damo, who couldn't believe his luck, did Cygnet proud by maintaining a very discreet erection for the entire outing. We had hoped this was because of the lovely curvy lady he was sitting behind, but rather suspect that it was the spanking new Sims which was the cause of his petite arousal. The outing was followed by a wonderful BBQ - in less than wonderful weather - at Big Mike's, Strand-on-the-Green (very posh). It was pleasing to see that many training oarsmen have now switched from their usual tipples (ie. anything) to very strong, neat vodka. Almost a health drink I'm sure you'll agree. Big Mike did us proud with a marvelous spread followed by late-night-crap-dancing lead by Dave "Grim" Grimshaw, a man not inhibited by any internal skeletal structure as far as we can see [apart from in his knob, obviously - ed.]. Rather surprisingly nobody copped off with anybody, but at one stage the latent sexual energy became so intense that at least one Cygnet started to go grey and froth. He later recovered.
On Saturday, Golda-Man's attempts at world domination continued with the formation of two talented racing fours for end-of-season piss-up regatta purposes. The only drawback is that he has also organised coaching, much of which seems to involve doing push-ups on the hard and in front of lady rowers who mutter things like "bad form" and "straighten your back" and "look at the size of that lardy f*****s arse" under their breath. We have it on good authority that not a single Cygnet achieved the requisite 20 push-ups [if we wanted to do push-ups we would have joined a push-up club - ed.]. After a lovely (if slightly damp) outing several "oarsmen" relocated to Fat Boy's Diner for brunch (with extra chips) only to find that "Mr Fat Boy is getting married today", so his establishment was closed. On to TJ's (Mortlake) where a surprised Dave and Ali were delighted to have the six of us join them for lardy scoff (I'm sure you can imagine). Much hilarity ensued - an awful lot of it at your Webmaster's expense. Tossers!
Two fours with the same crews out again on Sunday morning. What is the world coming to? Lovely paddle up to Richmond lock followed by 3 * 4 minute peices coming back. The S24- raising their rate alarmingly during the first piece in blind panic as a very smooth S44+ seemed to be able to hold them off at will. Tea and melons followed the outing for the Aristotle of the club, while the rest of us mere mortals had to make do with Chiswick. Once again Sarah Fromme-Tees provided a great deal of entertainment for the male rowers. A very enthusiastic young lady, she had earlier been plied with caffeine and chocolate by an unscrupulous older man and was subsequently operating in triple time. Consequently an eco-friendly skip down the hard to rescue an offensive-looking bud bottle floating past the boathouse turned into a full-on knee-deep paddling exercise. Luckily she had her Oakleys nearby so managed to continue looking very cool. Most of the other ladies were away at a regatta beginning with a "B".
Week Ending Sunday 08/07/01
Club day at Henley was a great success. Click here to see some photos. Everyone who attended would like to say a big thank-you to the Sly's, who once again made the day very enjoyable for all of us.
Week Ending Sunday 01/07/01
Cygnet voted to merge with Barnes Bridge Ladies, and then BBLRC new boat, the "Ali Baba", was launched. After the launch party, Alan Cox (club captain) cycled home whilst under the influence. If anyone finds his nose along the towpath could they please mail it back to the club. Nice scabs Alan.
Week Ending Sunday 24/06/01
Well, a VERY exciting week - mainly on Sunday - involving a very satisfying row in a talented boat (stroke seat - obviously) for your Webmaster. It is important to point out that this outing was preceeded by the revelation that " Week Ending Sunday 17/06/01
Barnes & Mortlake Regatta (Saturday). S24- win against the odds. See the photos here (they'll make you want to puke). Cygnet's talented men's double train as usual.
Week Ending Sunday 10/06/01
Karaoke (Saturday) - 'nuff said.