Then there’s captain of the lightweight squad, Alex Binkley’s story from C.R.A.S.H Bs his junior year in high school.

“I got off the erg and just passed out. It wasn’t a big deal. I woke up two minutes later,” said Binkley, who then continued on to what really bothered him about the episode. “But I lost my watch. I think someone stole it.”

Finally, there’s Levner’s story from high school about watching her coxswain nearly lose her ring finger in order to save the boat during a practice.

“She reached under the boat and pushed away a log,” Levner recalled. “Then she pulled up her hand and said ‘the boat’s ok, but my finger is not.’ And her finger was almost severed right in half”

So, we’ve got a sport where you lose your lunch, your consciousness, your watch and nearly your finger—like I said, you’ve got be slightly crazy to enjoy it.

But they do enjoy it, and when you ask them why, they all give the same answer: the team.

“There’s a bond that forms that doesn’t form in other sports,” McDaniel said. “Your teammates are so important.”

Said Levner, “Everyone relies so much on each other. It’s not like you can sub-in someone when you’re not feeling well. You really need everyone on the team…and then there’s this bond.”

And then maybe, for just a second, it all seems to make some sense. While they’re anonymous to the rest of the world, to each other, there’s no one more important.

It’s almost enough to make you want to run down to the MAC and hop on an erg—if it wasn’t for the whole puking and fainting thing of course.

—Staff writer David H. Stearns can be reached at stearns@fas.harvard.edu. His column appears alternate Thursdays.