'Twas the night before Crew Classic, when all through the house,
Not a rower was stirring, not even the bows;
The oars were tucked carefully under the racks,
In hopes that they would soon be asked to attack;
The athletes were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Power 10s danced in their heads;
And the coach in their cap, and I in my gear,
Had just settled down, with the regatta near.

When out on the beach there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the curtains and doors with a crash.

The moon over Mission Bay, on the water so grand,
Gave the gleam of mid-day to the boats on the sand.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a shell, and eight rowers, with their oars held dear.
With a wee person, so lively and glim,
I knew in a moment it must be the coxswain!

More rapid than eagles the eight rowers came,
They whistled and shouted, each calling by name:
"Now, Stroke Seat! now, Seven! now, Six Seat and Five!
On, Four! On, Three! On, Two and Bow, come alive!
To the starting line! to the head of the course!
Now row! row! row! with all of your force!"

As dry leaves that before the storm gusts take flight,
When they meet with an obstacle, rise to new height,
So up to the start line the rowers they flew,
With the boat full of dreams, and the coxswain too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the floor
The planting and pressing of each great oar.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the boathouse steps, the coxswain came with a bound.

They were dressed in full gear, from their head to their toes,
And their face was covered with sweat to their nose;
A bundle of whistles they had flung on their back,
And they looked like a coach, ready to lead the attack.

Their eyes, how they sparkled! their dimples, so merry!
Their cheeks were like roses, their nose like a cherry!
Their smile was all business, their jaw set to go,
With a voice that could command, through the highs and the low.
The sound of their coxbox was sharp and severe,
And the calls through the speakers were crystal and clear.

They had a firm set jaw, and their feet in bright shoes,
The rowers glided with rhythm, as the cox set the cues.
They were quick and precise, with a stride that was spry,
And I chuckled to see them, as they rowed by.

A wink of their eye and a twist of their head,
Told me not to worry, no doubts to be fed.
They spoke no more words, but got straight to their task,
They placed each oar and minded their backsplash.

And with a nod of their head, and a pat on their nose,
They gave a salute, and up to their boat they rose.
They sprang to the shell, to the crew gave a shout,
And away they all rowed, ready to row it out.

But I heard them exclaim, ere they rowed out of sight,
"HAPPY CREW CLASSIC TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT!"

If you've made it this far, then maybe it's time to register for this year's San Diego Crew Classic, March 28-30, 2025.

These reindeer look pretty serious