Some people might call this place a sausage-fest. It's an all-male camp after all. You may be wondering why the majority of the people here abscond from any major female company for eight weeks (well, half of them are pre-pubescent and couldn't give a monkeys). Today I witnessed a camp tradition, the picking of the teams for the last eight days of camp. Twelve team coaches adopt the names of twelve American Colleges (universities for the condused/foreign) and Draft the entire camp. For those unfamiliar with Drafting it's worth looking up. Most major American sports teams don't "buy" their players, they get awarded their position in a draft by what position they end up in at the end of the season. So, the Celtics just won the Basketball jobbie a month ago - they got to pick, from the pool of players on the transfer list first.
In our case the position in the draft is awarded randomly. In the first pick they basically pick the twelve best athletes in camp. The team who get the first pick effectively pick the Best Athlete in Camp. Okay. Let me put this in perspective. Everyone at camp is an athlete. Most of the kids don't arrive until second four because they're off playing varsity baseball or whatever. For the second four there are hundreds of City X's richest young athletes. The award of being a first round pick is an incredible one. Bear in mind this isn't an "OMG I'm so much better than you " thing - maybe it's hard to explain that there isn't anything elitist or braggy about being a first round pick, it's more like a recognition of dedication. The other thing is, in preparation for the draft the camp undergoes a mass scouting binge. For the last two weeks everyone has been extensively researching everyone else. I don't jest. In fact, to everyone else around here it's deadly serious. My point is, everyone knows who the One One is going to be before he's picked, either that or they have an extremely good idea. There are no real surprises, ergo there are no tears.
Okay, back to my original point. Everyone I have ever met (back home), bar a small minority of very settled and comfortable individuals, who has had any kind of sporty inclinations has been an arsehole. I'm not saying tempers don't fray or that this place is some kind of sports paradise... but it's pretty good. And the great thing is I don't have to do any sports! It's basically the atmosphere and the company - devoid of cynicism this place actually works as a competitive and supportive community. The only kids who cry about losing here are in my cabin and they soon grow out of it.
1 comment:
Sports, men and America. I REALLY had to concetrate on that one!!m Very interesting, as usual. I reckon I about 80% get it.
You letter is coming by the way. I have decided to promise you that I will finish my script in time to send it so it's waiting for you when you return from America (your letter was very supportive, and I need a deadline!) but it means I'm having to work much harder, so haven't had time to write back to you. Swings and roundabouts... :-)
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