SSS Champs - 'today, tomorrow, eternity'

SUSA Champs kicked off rowdily in Boteco do Brazil on Thursday night, and quickly moved on to Light, Strathclyde’s regular haunt. Newcastle proved their love of all things SUSA by gracing the dancefloor in neon, and we were all soon covered in various degrees of inappropriate UV paint. Some of Glasgow’s members were photographed in compromising positions, and vodka and Sambuca flowed through the veins of numerous sailors.

Ladies and gentlemen, your Commodore.

We arose on Friday to a windless Bardowie. Slightly disheartened, but with the enthusiasm that sailors on a one day hang still possess, we hit the water, both confused and intrigued by the prospect of the ‘Swiss League’ format of team racing that we were to encounter for the first time. It quickly became clear that all that was needed was to find yourself on the high or low rib, followed by the high or low pontoon, and get into the right boats (which all proved to be challenging for Glasgow Pink, as well as some members of Newcastle White). After a couple of hours of racing that would see two wins each from Strathclyde Blue, Glasgow Roast, Edinburgh Blue, Glasgow Ross and St Andrews Pink, the wind well and truly abandoned us to our fate, and after an intense game of international shoe golf won by Sierra Leone we trundled back to our flats in Glasgow (some of us wetter than others after getting a bit bored on the pontoon. One word. PENGUIN).

Pontoon drama.

Friday night was spend dressed as ‘types of boats’ on the balcony of Garage, which was grand - until we got thrown off the balcony of Garage, which may have had something to do with either a particular 1 kilogram of glitter or the use of the fire door for mildly illicit activities. We’ll never know. Newcastle put in another strong effort in terms of the ‘Champs whatsapp’, as their presence dressed as streakers soon escalated to the legendary #p***scam.

Strathclyde are crafty devils.

Saturday saw the sailors perched on the shores of Bardowie at about 11am, beginning a game of shoe golf, and the word 'canned' being whispered from car park to changing room, when a sliver of wind crossed the loch. Strathclyde began to get excited, and sure enough the wind filled in and we hopped back into our fireflies. Fantastic racing ensued, with Glasgow Roast leading the league, Glasgow Pink beating Glasgow Ross 1-2-3 with the help of a certain Rachel Mawer, and Glasgow Beige attempting to deal with Josh Gorham, who was three hip flasks down and could barely walk. A new song was crafted for our boisterous bosun Peter, who loves trampolines, and became so deeply involved in a MVP-off with Ally over Fantasy Leagues that when Ally purposefully (allegedly) lost the 2, Peter was forced to pass back so that Ally could finish ahead.

After a short interlude, the infamous Champs Ball commenced! In keeping with the tradition of Friday night, the three man lift, some cheeky table moving, and a rowdy ceilidh faeturing broken glass resulted in our 'timely exit' near to midnight, lest the clock strike 12, the spell be lifted and Alex Eliott lose one of his glass slippers.

Surprisingly classy.

And finally, the day that shouldn't have existed, in Emily's words, 'SUSA champs: today, tomorrow, eternity,' which rang in our face paint tinged ears. At the end of 13 rounds Glasgow Roast and Strathclyde Blue were tied on 12 wins, followed by Edinburgh Blue and Big Booty Bitches on 9 wins each, as we moved slickly into quarter and semi finals. The sun made an appearance, as well as a mysterious drone, and the event finished with the top four teams as follow:

1. Edinburgh Blue 2. Glasgow Roast 3. Strathclyde Blue 4. Newcastle White