that the Masters VIII had a 30 second age penalty.
The crew are too young.
The Stroke is a mere pup.
Officials agreed – their heart rates would have to go up!
But Michael said that he was sure – That the CRC men would fly.
From 'roids to tides. Anything to distract our minds.
Waiting for our final three to arrive.
Lach had it that the race was in the opposite direction.
(And unbeknowns to his crew – smuggled a secret weapon onboard).
Was it really to confuse the opposition?
James' leg looked like he'd tried to shave it with an axe.
He had bark missing from his face.
his rowing shirt. He was ready to race.
The idea of bull sharks had merit Lach!
the same air for too long!
We practiced our starts – not a more excited nine on the water there was.
The mood was far from tense.
(Or behind Bill's cool sunnies).
Adrenalin pulsed our bodies. The first of six.
Our 30 second penalty forgotten. We raced past our competition.
James had been dealt a wicked blow.
Under his CRC colours subdued.
Was his body, black and blue bruised.
Technique was spot on, the crew in form.
Men, not boys that day – enjoyed the win in many ways.
Stories & whispers still swirl around The Shed.
know the truth to the Legend.
About the man who made the boat fly.