Team Dazed and Confused

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Team members: Kevin Boland, Barry Crist, David Gudgel, Duncan Smith, Adrien Felon
Hometown: Seattle, Washington, USA
Race vessel: Olson 30
LOA: 30′
Human propulsion: Row and pedal drive
Connect: instagram

Before The Rock left the squared circle to become the next David Hasselhoff, before Jesse Ventura leveled-up his middle name from “The Body” to “The Governor,” and well before Donald Trump’s cesspool dabbling included the WWE—not to mention any level of government. Before all of that, back in the good old days, professional wrestling was a sacred space. Inside of those three ropes and 12 turnbuckles was 400 square feet of televised sacred ground for unbridled, highly choreographed violence in its purest and fakest form. It was where the world of body builders collided with the big top, then whitefaced the Mexican luchadore traditions until you could only smell the corn dogs and body oil, until the only music that mattered was hair metal and Lee Greenwood. Its glorious counterfeitery was comforting—it knew how to stay in its lane. Wrestlers were just that, legit stars were something else, and other than their Columbian hook-up, the two worlds avoided each other.

Wrestlemania changed all that. The 1985 title bout was Hulk Hogan vs Mr T who made the move to fake wrestling on the heels of his near success playing a fake boxer in Rocky II. It was all downhill from there, and not just for wrestling. The freedom to cross genres played out everywhere and the wheels started coming off global order: in ’86 Chicago Bears defensive lineman Walter “The Refrigerator” Perry entered the WWF cage match; fast forward two years and Paula Abdul is dancing with an animated cat; two more and Tonya Harding is exacting actual (but theatrical) violence on Olympic athletes, white guys start making rap music, the Soviet Union falls, Enron, global warming, Blockbuster Video implodes back to a single store—the list goes on. Our take away: stay in your lane or this whole thing falls apart.

Despite the evidence of a world hanging in the balance, Team Dazed and Confused decided to merge left into the R2AK from what their application indicates to be a solid life of physical accomplishments in the non-sailing outdoors. Yes, they have sailed, some (deliveries across oceans, small boat sailing), but the amount of items, and number of decades their application dedicates to other forms of jock talk (baseball, wind sprints, weight lifting, competitive cycling, mountain climbing) made us realize what this was: Team Dazed and Confused was the Fridge in our cage match.

By no means strangers to the water, Team Dazed and Confused clearly thought that their mountain of mountain, military, fitness, paddle sport, and championship collegiate rowing experience could bolt itself to their sheer fitness and parlay into a reasonable bid at this sailing race. While they are strong like bull, they are also potentially smart like train. From our personal experience we have theoretical certainty that being a beefcake helps in sailing, but we’re not sure how much, and especially in the R2AK. With all of the engineless, unpredictable weather, and currents we like to think of ourselves as the thinking person’s sailboat race.

Team Dazed and Confused’s muscle bound bid at the R2AK is like Macho Man Randy Savage joining the Chess Club: ‘Sokolsky Opening, OH YEAAAH!

On second thought, they might have just played the tape back on 2018’s windless row-show/sweat fest and thought: “Maybe we can Mr T this thing?” Let the global destruction begin.

Welcome to the R2AK, Team Dazed and Confused. We forgot to mention your Olsen 30 in all of this. Sorry.