The Frustrated Finalist

With exams and the prospect of the real world ominously close, Harry Hodges will release all the pent up fury of the finalist at you- his lucky reader. If you’re in the same boat, find solidarity; if not, a warning- that one day you will have to do exams and leave as well.


After three years of slogging away on the river, in Jamal’s (that’s Arzoo’s for you youngsters) and in the library I’ve decided it’s time to share my considerable wisdom with you.

Between now and the end of the term I will not only be sitting my final exams but will be setting forth on a mission to enlighten and educate the next batch of Oxford’s finest and to courageously say what all finalists are thinking but are too afraid of the librarian to unleash on the populace at large.

Stressful: Trinity Term is a difficult time for any finalist

I came up to Oxford way back in 2010 to start colouring/doing nothing/analysing spatio-temporal relations (choose your own definition of ‘geography’, I really don’t care any more).

This vast expanse of free time left me deathly afraid of the crushing onset of ennui as I spent my many countless hours not colouring/doing nothing/analysing spatio-temporal relations staring into the depths of my own soul.

Halcyon days: Matriculating way back in 2010

Somewhat luckily rowing dragged me from my pit and threw me onto the river.  Fear not, however, despite the sport doing its best to reduce me to a quivering lycra-clad wreck a solid diet of gin and cigarettes in the last year have seen me manage to banish pretty much all the symptoms of fitness as well as spreading my skills as a raconteur beyond stroke rates and pithy references to ‘the pain locker’.

HarROWING: Stick to the puns, kids

Unbelievably my geography degree has, even in the very last year, not exactly taken up all the hours that God has given me.  It is this you have to thank for some truly brilliant sunshine puns (if I do say so myself) and now for me ramming my opinion down your throat.

Yes, I thought of a throat ramming metaphor.  No, I’m not going to use it because I’m better than that and you should be too.

So pin back your ears students of Oxford.  Freshers, there is some valuable advice coming up in the next few weeks.  How to treat a finalist, the best ways to spend your free time (trust me, I’ve tried them all), observations from a veteran of over 50 crew dates and a whole lot more dug up from my vault of hard won experience.

Top tip: Always check for a beard before leaving Jamal’s

Second years without exams, why the fuck are you reading this?  Go outside and revel in your freedom before you’re forced to crushingly realise that your humanities degree is nothing more than a white flag on the battlefield of the job market.

Last but not least a message to my fellow finalists (pay attention, there’s a continuation of that complex war metaphor coming up).

We have entered the trenches of the Western Front in order to battle our greatest nemesis.

Together we might just make it across No Man’s Land.