Eastbourne Poly, who'd have thought it
At the age of 13 I turned up to a maths exam without a calculator – the effect was catastrophic – my mark was lower than expected, meaning I dropped down a group for maths, meaning my GCSE grades weren’t what they could have been, meaning my A Levels suffered, meaning I didn’t get into either Oxford or Cambridge University and in a moment of teenage forgetfulness, my hopes of a rowing blue were scuppered forever.
To the people who know me, I hope your snorting your coffee out of your noses at the phrase “My GCSE grades weren’t what they could have been”.
Russ invited us to his club, I didn’t really like Russ until I found out he had a West London club, now I’ve found him to be one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. When he asked us to join him to watch the boat race, we were all over it faster than you can say “I’m 19, at Trinity College, I feel the need to wear a blazer, fedora and slacks.”
Although we watched just 12 seconds of live rowing as first the reserve crews, and then the proper race sped by our balcony vantage point, it was a fantastic day with friends, drinking (too much for a school night) and having a right laugh.
Whilst I could, and maybe will, elucidate further than this, I won’t because to say it was just great fun says it all really.
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