How to Throw Your Coxswain in the Water
Rob Colburn via row2k
“For most coxswains, being thrown in is the perfect end to a perfect day, and they enthusiastically join in. There are always a few dissidents who allow trivial fears of hypothermia, toxic runoff, or impalement on a submerged log, to cause them to resist. Coxswain escapes are serious and time-consuming; once loose, they can wedge themselves like hermit crabs into impossibly small crevices in the luggage compartment of the bus or under the sink in the training room, and -- depending on how much weight your cox has had to cut for the race -- it will cost you at least half of a box of fig newtons to lure them out again.
One of the rowers -- someone big and who is impervious to appeals for clemency (such as your five seat) must keep firm hold of the coxswain from the moment the shell returns to the dock. It is not enough simply to run a trailer strap through the gussets of his or her jacket -- coxswains can gnaw right through those. If things are busy on the dock, and no one can be spared for sentry duty while the shell is washed down and put away, temporarily empty the equipment box. (Most coxswains can be made to fit as long as you fold them properly, and if enough rowers stand on the top to press it down. Remember to punch some holes in the lid)
One very cold day early in the season, the winning coxswain of a crew which shall remain nameless (it's not the one you're thinking), succeeded in getting the drop on his rowers, forcing his exhausted crew to chase him on race-tired legs. He got as far as the soccer fields before they tackled him, dragged him down to the boathouse, stripped him to the essentials, and threw him in. They then lined up on the edge of the dock and pushed h im in again every time he tried to climb out. He had turned a very satisfactory shade of blue before they relented.
They made their point.
