The other morning I stopped to watch some rowers on the Seekonk River. There was an 8-person shell out there, moving relatively slowly, while some guy, I presume the coach, was standing in a nearby launch, shouting at them through a bullhorn. I couldn’t make out most of what he was saying, but it appears he enunciates more when he’s irritated.
“Mwah mwah mwah mwah except for Josh. LOOK AT ME, JOSH. Mwah mwah mwah.”
A few minutes later, the launch went back to the boathouse and then came back out escorting another 8-person shell.