Perhaps the preppiest of all
prep sports. True preps begin as early as seventh grade, though honorary preppiness is bestowed upon college oarsmen so long as they wear chinos and Brikenstocks off the water. Difficult to explain attraction to a sport that demand you skip Monte
Carlo Weekend just to add to your blisters, calluses, and bloody, scarred calves. (Up-side: feminine attention and sympathy.) Does provide one with a
lean, muscular physique, though, and is license for various kinds of eccentricity the lacrosse team would never tolerate. Participation in Head of the
Charles and/or Henley Royal Regatta assures social set bragging rights later on in life. At no point does the
midget in the bow/stern of the boat yell "stroke."
Everyone Else: Hey Brooksie! Why the
hell are you wearing sweat pants? Come on over here and play some Blackjack!
Phil: Sorry, gotta pile into a 15-year-old Ford Econoline and drive 900 hours to Rome, NY for a five-minute
long crew race!
Everyone Else: Sucker!