Today has been a wonderfully lazy Sunday. I woke up around 10, made some coffee, and read my travel books (okay, I did revise a little of my last essay, but we'll not count that...). Tonight, the rest of the Georgetowners and I are meeting Dr. Hadaway (who's here for six weeks) to go to evensong at Christ Church. Afterwards, we'll go back to the Georgetown flat for dinner. Yesterday, by contrast, was quite productive and eventful. I had to get up at 9 to meet the girls' netball team for the Cuppers tournament. Getting up in the single-digit hours on a weekend is not a common Oxford occurrence (for me or any student really). It was an interesting tournament. I'm still not sure of all of the rules, but basically, it's similar to basketball minus the contact and also everyone has assigned zones that they must stay in or get penalized for being off-sides. I know it sounds extremely lame. Luckily, I have one of the best positions. I play Goal Shooter, so I and another girl do all of the scoring. Goal shooter is a position which I imagine is similar to the quarterback in football because I get the majority of the glory when everyone else is doing the more difficult, less fun things. I enjoy how low-key netball is though sometimes when the ball is near me in the opponent's hands I'm really tempted to swipe at the ball which is a netball no-no.
One thing that amuses me about netball, and British sports in general, is the cheers during play. The girls on my team say things like, "Unlucky!" if I miss a shot or "Brilliant" if I make it. My personal favorite is "Two cheers for [insert opposing team's name here]!" It's so polite and comically British that I couldn't have imagined it any funnier in my mind.
Though netball is much more casual Oxford sport than say...rowing. Rowing is an Oxford tradition in which I don't believe I'll get into. I went out on the river twice, and on the second outing, I'm pretty sure I had gotten worse. There's so much to remember, and it's such an unnatural technique. If you mess up, turning your oar around or getting out of sync with the other rowers (there are 8 in a boat), you're screwed. Once, I fell behind in the stroke and my oar nearly killed me. The girl behind me in the boat had to take my oar as I ducked out of its way. My back hurt for two weeks after my second and hopefully last outing. At first I was a little disappointed in myself for not taking advantage of what I initially thought was the ultimate Oxford experience. I'm rather sporty, so I thought I should definitely row, right? However after witnessing rowing culture first-hand, it didn't take long to realize rowing is not for me.
One thing that amuses me about netball, and British sports in general, is the cheers during play. The girls on my team say things like, "Unlucky!" if I miss a shot or "Brilliant" if I make it. My personal favorite is "Two cheers for [insert opposing team's name here]!" It's so polite and comically British that I couldn't have imagined it any funnier in my mind.
Though netball is much more casual Oxford sport than say...rowing. Rowing is an Oxford tradition in which I don't believe I'll get into. I went out on the river twice, and on the second outing, I'm pretty sure I had gotten worse. There's so much to remember, and it's such an unnatural technique. If you mess up, turning your oar around or getting out of sync with the other rowers (there are 8 in a boat), you're screwed. Once, I fell behind in the stroke and my oar nearly killed me. The girl behind me in the boat had to take my oar as I ducked out of its way. My back hurt for two weeks after my second and hopefully last outing. At first I was a little disappointed in myself for not taking advantage of what I initially thought was the ultimate Oxford experience. I'm rather sporty, so I thought I should definitely row, right? However after witnessing rowing culture first-hand, it didn't take long to realize rowing is not for me.
With the upcoming Hilary boat race (torpids), the rowing team likes to have practice at 6...in the morning. I understand that good things don't come easy. An amount of sacrifice is required for any great reward. These students spend at least five days of the week out on the river while somehow managing to pull off passable essays. Yet what is this "reward" of rowing? Maybe the earliness and frequency of these outings wouldn't be as appalling if it seemed as if people actually enjoyed rowing. I've heard a few say how wonderful it is being out on the river and how much fun it is once you get the technique down, but these meager attempts of enthusiasm seem few and far between compared to the number of complaints. It's almost as if these rowers in their half-hearted attempts of ardor are trying to convince themselves that they actually enjoy rowing. Well, I'm not buying it. These rowers are putting in so much effort for so little reward. They know it, and I know it. Oxford tradition or not, I think I'll remain a land-lover until punting comes into play. Punting, is an Oxford tradition in which I've heard genuine enthusiasm. Now, I'll only need to learn what exactly this "punting" phenomenon is all about...
