Singapore Short Story: World DragonBoat Racing Championships 2009

            In front of me lay the battlefield. It was a freshwater lake. The water was calm but my heart was not. It was churning with a whirlpool of emotions. A gust of wind swept past me, sending shivers down my spine. Ironically, it was summer – the hottest days of summer. Empty dragonboats lined the pontoon. They were meant to be filled with people who dreamed of becoming champions and bringing pride and glory to their country. I hoped that we were capable of doing so. I hoped that those months of training were worthwhile.

            In the year 2009, I joined Hwa Chong Junior College as a junior college freshman. I took up dragonboating as a CCA (co-curriculum activity). On my first training, I met our coach Mr Tan. He welcomed us freshmen and said that come August that year, we would all be participating in the prestigious World DragonBoat Racing Championships (WDBRC). He declared that we had only one goal – for Singapore to emerge as the dragonboating champion.

            At first I thought that Mr Tan was out of his mind. How could a country so small that it appeared as a tiny dot on the globe compete with giants such as China? For every one team we sent in, China could easily send in a hundred teams that were probably of the same standard or better. Winning was as impossible as finding a needle in a haystack or worse – finding a strand of hay in a stack of needles since the process was quite painful.

            Training started off with a 2.4km run at an unbelievable pace. It felt like I was doing 24 sets of 100m sprints continuously. If anyone tried to idle, Mr Tan would holler at him at the top of his voice. By the end of the run, I was panting for breath. I looked around and saw some of my teammates coughing hysterically. One of them nearly vomited. Mr Tan was furious with our poor fitness and punished us with one thousand push-ups … in perfect form.

            “In order to become champions, our training must be perfection. There cannot be any slacking nor can there be any sign of weakness.” That was Mr Tan’s speech about perfection.

            Next exercise was chin-ups. Mr Tan said that we had to do thirty chin-ups easily in perfect form. Again he reiterated his speech about perfection.

            Before we even did any dragonboating, I was dead tired from all those exercises. For our first dragonboating training, Mr tan taught us the strokes. He demanded perfection once again, “Even if the paddle is slanted by one degree or not completely in the water, the stroke becomes useless. Dragonboaters in China have perfect strokes and a much faster stroke rate. How are you supposed to win if you are not even up to their standard?”

            That was one day’s worth of training. This continued for months, training almost every day of the week. There were times when I felt that I could not endure the pain and could not make the sacrifices in order for Singapore to win.

            As the day drew near, Mr Tan announced that we would be travelling to Czech Republic from 30 July to 8 August for WDBRC. We would return to Singapore with the golden trophy as Singapore’s birthday present. After all, the next day would be National Day.

            Finally, we flew to Czech Republic on the 30^th July. The first race was 2000m race. It was just one race – no heats, no semi-finals – it was just the finals and whether you win or lose. We started off on high spirit and broke away from the rest. We counted loudly and following the beat of the drummer who sat at the front of the dragonboat. I could feel the power and the unity of the entire dragonboat. I could feel the unity and power of the entire dragonboat. Every time we pulled our paddles firmly through the water. Our boat would surge forward like a motorboat, causing water to splash form its sides violently. Mr Tan stood at the back of the dragonboat and controlled its direction using a rudder. At the same time, he shouted motivational phrases to make us paddle harder. Eventually, after sheer determination and mental strength, we crossed the finish line, gasping for breath, and emerging as the winner of that race. I did not expect to even get top three, needless to say first place. This definitely boosted our morale.

            However, we became over complacent in the next race, a 1000m race. The 1000m race was a straight-finals, meaning one chance only. We lost badly and China overtook us by 3 points. Mr Tan chided us, “I had actually expected you to lose this race. After yesterday’s race, you were busy celebrating. You became over-confident and as a result you lost.”

            In the next race, a 500m race, we won China hand downs. Unfortunately, China was still ahead of us by one point. Thankfully, we still had one more race to go. If we won it, we could take back the golden trophy for Singapore and Singapore will be declared as the dragonboating champion. Otherwise, we would have to settle for silver.

             “We will emerge as champions. We will not settle for second place, because to be second is to be last as we would have lost.” That was what Mr Tan said the night before the final race.

            The final race was the shortest distance: 200m. However, that meant that we could not afford to make any mistake. Unfortunately, the beginning of the race was not to our advantage. We missed the starting call and started off a precious one second late. As a result, China overtook us by one boat length. Our morale dropped rapidly as China continued its ferocious charge. Winning felt impossible.

            “What are you doing! Don’t lose hope! Come on, charge!” Mr Tan shouted at the top of his lungs. At that juncture, we felt a sense of injustice. Even if China won, we would not let them win easily. We would put up a fight – a fight to the finish. Then, suddenly and miraculously, our dragonboat burst forth and chased after China.

            “Come on! Keep this up! That’s the way!” Mr Tan continued to cheer us on. Two metres more … one metre more … and before we knew it we crossed the finish line with China neck-to-neck beside us. It was clearly a photo-finish but who won?

            Minutes later, the results were announced. We had won! By the whisker of the dragon head in the front of our boat. I immediately jumped up in feeling jubilant and a sense of pride. Tears of joy rolled down my cheeks. Months of effort had finally paid off.

 On the 8^th of August, 8am, our plane touched down on Changi Airport. As we walked out of the plane, Mr Tan held up the golden trophy, which glistened beautifully under the morning sun, and said, “For Singapore!”

            “For Singapore!” we echoed.

Notes form the author:

WDBRC is an actual dragonboat race. It is held biannually in odd-numbered years. In 2009, Singapore sent a youth team to compete in WDBRC. They won the championship title for Singapore. However, all characters in this story are fictitious and much of the story is fictitious too. This year, Singapore is also going to send a youth team to compete in WDBRC.