Here's to dirty white pants,
Torn up hands,
And sore EVERYTHING.
We compete in whatever conditions we get.
Rain in Providence, we race!
Gale force winds, we race!
Crumbling forcola, we race!
Broken oar, flip it over and keep racing.
Here’s to a crowd of people all cheering in striped shirts.
Here’s to that pain that you’ll remember after the race,
but you’re ignoring right now.
And here’s to pushing it as hard as you can till you hear that marvelous word from the judges: "TIME!"