July 2004

2004 News Index

24th and 25th July 2004 – Bewdley Regatta

On the weekend of the 24th and 25th July, the Men’s Senior squad ventured to Bewdley Regatta to let off some post-Henley steam and flex it’s pot-winning muscles.

Thanks to the squad’s excellent captain doing some fine recruitment work, the squad were able to enter a fine flotilla of boats from S2 8+ to N 1x. A sign of the times with the majority of the squad racing in sweep-oar boats unlike the previous year at this regatta where the squad only entered S3 sculling events.

The day did not start well for the squad. Firstly, Tom was woken with Mini-Drury ringing to say her Dad was hospitalised with a bad back, later turning out to be kidney stones. This led to some hasty crew changes in the eights, making both boats even more scratch than they had been before. Secondly, the S2 4- (Steve, Lez, Bob, Angus) decided they didn’t want to race in Andy Stobart anymore, running it through the shallows replacing the fin with a big hole. Luckily they still managed to win their semi-final.

With a borrowed boat, rearranged seating arrangements, and Steve steering (or not steering…), they managed to lose the final by half a length. Steve was disappointed to lose this race as his mum had promised him a new bike if he won.

The S2 2x Father and Son composite of Robin from the Ross-on-Wye School of Sculling and Tom from Wallingford, managed to progress to their final beating their opposition by half a canvas. The final saw them race against a crew that came 5th in 2x at the Nat Champs. Far from intimidating our favourite midget double, this knowledge spurred them on to produce the most exciting race of day, with the umpires giving the race to the opposition by 2 feet, or 4 Toms. This didn’t stop Tom appealing that he had clashed blades near the finish. “We were in front, they came into our water, we clashed blades, they beat us” he claimed. “Maybe I hit a buoy”, “Maybe they weren’t in our water”, “Maybe I didn’t hit anything”, “I was just trying to be like Lez”, Tom later admitted…..

Wallingford’s vastly experienced S2 8+ (Richard, Tom, Harry, Jon, Bob, Steve, Lez, Angus, Kathryn) had a straight-final against a crew from Northwich, whom they dispatched with minimal fuss by just over a length, cheers all round, Hurrah! Win number one.

Next up was the slightly less senior, but no less able, S3 8+ (Richard, Pete, Harry, Mike, Bob, Jon, Duncan, Dirk Diggler, Kathryn). Displaying a maturity that surprised everyone except the all-knowing Pat, the crew won the final comfortably. This was all the more amazing taking into account the obvious disability suffered by their stroke man. It was a good job only Kathryn was wearing baggy shorts….. Win number two.

The stern section of the S3 8+, relaxed a lot more when racing in S4 4+ (Harry, Mike, Duncan, Digglemaster, Kathryn). This crew carefully constructed to race at their optimal limit, taking the four people with fewest points and shoving them in a four together paid dividends as they won the event without breaking into sweat. Win number three.

Saturday evening, the Senior Squad joined forces with the novices to invade the Chinese Restaurant, The Sampan. With a combined force of around 60 hungry, half-drunk rowers, resistance was futile although the waitresses did attempt to fend us off with chopsticks. It is suffice to say the beer was soon flowing and all were merry. Jon, affectionately known as the Prince of Darkness, was so drunk he agreed to row in the S3 4+ the next day, relieving a thankful Tom of bowside duties.

Sunday morning produced a few unexplained events. The sudden disappearance of Duncan, the equally sudden appearance of flip-flops and t-shirt in one Captain’s tent, what could it all mean?

The usual early morning fog had descended in the squad’s heads. This was partially removed with the arrival of Pat from his cave near the Welsh border, looking bright and energetic, prompting cries of “Make Pat row in the S3 4+…..” Apparently too many points prevented our beloved coach from racing that morning.

The S3 4+ (Richard, Jon, Mike, Dirk “You know when you’ve been Diggled” Diggler, Kathryn) were up first, hazily beating their opposition, but not sure quite how they managed it. Unfortunately the gods did not favour the addition of Jon, and his Dark tendencies, to the boat, thus they lost in the semi-final to an un-fancied crew of Greeks.

The S2 4- (Steve, Lez, Bob, Angus) managed to rectify the problems they had on the Saturday to defeat the crew that had beat them in Saturday’s final. Using their third boat of the weekend, they defeated the home club in the final much to the chagrin of the local supporters.

This left the slightly rearranged S2 8+ (Robin, Tom, Richard, Mike, Bob, Steve, Lez, Angus, Kathryn) to repeat their win over Northwich in another straight-final, which they were ably doing, until the Northwich cox, mistakenly thinking Dirk Diggler was in our boat, attempted to board. Thus, with opposition disqualified accordingly, the Wallingford eight were left to coast through the enclosures at a leisurely pace much to the delight of the crowd, particularly the members of the Wallingford Rowing Club Appreciation Society.

Matt Denmark bravely competed at S4 and N 1x but was unable to realise his true potential at this regatta. He has vowed to wreak havoc on all who cross him at City of Oxford regatta.

Prize to the biggest smile of the weekend:
Harry as he went to collect his third pot on Saturday with the other two clutched in one hand.

Prize to the biggest haul of pots over the weekend:
Kathryn, collecting 5 pots, S2 8+ (x2), S3 8+, S4 4+, WS4 8+.

Prize to the person with most American women in his tent:
Tom, one.

Prize to person who missed out on most pots due to injury:
Mike Drury, missing out on 3 pots due to suffering kidney stones. Gutted, literally.

Prize to the worst Eurotrash rapper:
DJ Dirk Digglemaster, “Yo Yo Yo!”

Prize for the least inspiring technical call:
Pat, “I want you all to growl like a tiger!”

Prize for the most inspiring technical call:
Kathryn, “Lager, Lager, Lager, I am the Firestarter, twisted Firestarter!”