Teamwork with a Capital T

Is anyone else jealous that Frank and Andy and Da Boyz get to have a week of Rambo-esque playtime with guns and explosives and high-speed boat chases and round-the-campfire Kumbayas? In Denmark?

Well, I am. I wanna join Da Boyz Club, coz it looks totally fun. And I know the key word here is ‘Training’ camp, but who are CSC kidding? That’s a week of Boytime right there. A testosterone-filled Boyz With Toyz camp.

So, getting down to the nitty gritty of their little ‘training camp’, and just for fun coz I like to. I decided to break a day of Training Camp fun and games into timed increments to make it more legible. I also have absolutely no evidence to back this up, so don’t actually take my word for it. I made most of it up. Pictures are sparse therefore. :D

A Typical Day of CSC Saxo-Bank Training Camp 2008 with Da Boyz, focusing on Teamwork with a Capital T.

5:30am: Wake up bright and early. Well, not bright. It just aint bright at that time in northern Europe. But early anyhow. They’re probably woken up by the bugle blowing. Or a lieutenant coming in and ripping their bedsheets off and yelling in their faces. Or a bucket of water. All sound pretty fun to me.

5:45am: Brekkie for Da Boyz. A quick one in the barracks and it’s straight out into the field. Would be a hearty meal this time, none of that carb-pasta crud like they eat during Tours. Bacon, eggs, sausages, the whole pullava. Gotta get ‘em through the day.

6:10am: Let’s Get Physical (physical…) At the Athletics Field. Jogging for x amount of clicks (chanting ‘R is for Ranger, A is for All the Way..’), then one hundred push-ups, chin-ups, lunges with weights, starjumps, knees up running, arm presses, beep tests. All in the marl grey jumpsuit, obviously.

9:00am: Obstacle Courses next. Muddy rope course with tyres, log lifting, middle distance running, army crawls, army rolls, army running in formation (‘slow is smooth, smooth is fast’) for increased discipline. I didn’t actually see any of Da Boyz doing this, but I’m sure it would have been in their programme somewhere. No pictures to back that up, naturally.

11:30am: Downtime after a strenuous morning. Time in which to listen to cool music, and compare a range of festy headwear, some of which are actually cool, like Fabian’s Moskvian legionnaire’s , and Andy’s mustard ‘Redhead’ cap. The Furry Muffler is awesome too, in a roadkill kind of way. They also use this time to chill in the mess room and have some manly male bonding moments over games of Uno.

12:00midday: Lunch for Da Boyz. Gruel and bread for disciplinary reasons. Builds character. Or normal food, maybe. We’re not fussy. Who knows, really.

12:30am: It’s back to training and on come the Army Fatigues for Ranger Training. Da Boyz practice their building infiltration techniques, clear rooms, break locks with gel explosives, and have lessons about understanding the chain of command. Andy, surprisingly, does not find this difficult.

3:00pm: Advanced Weapons Training. Andy pops caps like you wouldn’t believe. The other Boyz could still use more practice, though there’s no sign of the Kevlar vests, which is a worry. Specific focus on assault rifles, pistols and sniper rifles. No doubt Andy came up trumps in all aspects coz he’s a dead-eye dick (which means really accurate, by the way), and is wearing The Furry Muffler for good luck.

4:00pm: AFL-esque semi-Recovery Sessions on Some Damn Freezing Danish Beach. They are here to haul their cold, wet arses up onto speedboats and supposedly help each other at the same time because this camp is all about Teamwork with a Capital T. But… Directeur Man: ‘Help each other up, this is all about Teamwork with a Capital T’. Big Jens: (in less words): ‘F**k Teamwork with a Capital T, I’m helping myself out of this f**king freezing water plskthnx’. Now there’s Teamwork with a Capital T all right. A beautiful thing.

5:00pm: Cross Country hiking/bushwalking/walkabouting. Backpacks packed and it’s into The Wild. Along the way, they are taught the Ancient Art of Surviving in the Danish Wilderness. They are coached on how to make a fire, how to hunt for rabbits (bunny bashing with spotlights on the hummers), how to find bush tucker, where to dig for water, how to suck poison from a snakebite, how to keep dingoes and feral kangaroos away, how to build makeshift huts, and how to keep warm when one dude loses his sleeping bag or swag.

6:00pm: Reach Clearing and Set Up Camp. A suitable spot is chosen and sleeping bags are rolled out, a hearth set up with a ring of rocks, and a BBQ slate shoved on top. This is the O’Grader’s territory, because he’s an Australian, so the others are warned not to come anywhere near his barbie or his tongs. Or else. So while the O’Grader chars the steaks and snags - beer firmly in hand - the others set up the Billy Tea and make the damper. All serenaded by various renditions of camp-fire-lit Kumbayas with the ukulele strumming softly on Fabian’s knee.

9:00pm: Lights Out for Da Boyz. It’s been a hard day’s work and everyone’s spent. Until tomorrow, obviously.

[You'll possibly have noted some sarcasm in this post. But truth is, despite the above, I'd still love the whole Training Camp adventure. Fun as. Oh, and the photos aren't mine, of course... relevant disclaimers and all...]