After two weeks of tryouts, we had finally made the grade, and this was our reward: An afternoon of embarrassing hazing activities, followed by a homoerotic climax that seemed to have come straight out of my 17-year-old gay subconscious. For the last two hours, 10 other young rowers and I had been undergoing 'initiation' to my university's varsity crew team. That's what I kept thinking as I stood in the middle of a sun-dappled backyard, dressed in nothing but a spandex unitard and running shoes, preparing to have oil poured over my body. I had no idea college was going to be so much like a gay porn movie.
