Var[stupid]ity

As the game went on, slowly but surely, the more adventurous of supporters were led out by the cops. As they went away as apparent heroes, audaciously yelling at the rival crowd and welcoming the resonant ‘boos’ as a stamp of honour, I wondered what the point of this ridiculous exercise was.

Derby rivalry rugby UCL-King's

Having lived in Delhi and Dubai for the past two decades, I am definitely a newbie when it comes to the Rugby. Despite this obvious deterrent, I still bought myself a ticket to the big varsity derby against King’s because I enjoy the idea of having historical rivals and all the myths and legends it tends to create.

The match was riveting, I think. I’m told we played exceptionally well and smashed King’s to pieces. Then again, if someone lied to me I would be none the wiser. Having studied at a college in Delhi which has a similar bitter historical rivalry with a neighbouring college, I do enjoy sitting on my high horse and taking snobbish pot-shots at other institutions. With this in mind, I assumed a healthy sense of ‘banter’ (I believe that’s what it’s called here) would exist, and we would whip out ‘Burlington Bertie’ and sing King’s out of the game.

Having a sparse understanding of the collision course of a sport I was witnessing, I spent most of my time on the side lines waiting for my friends to yell when we did something good, and then pretending like I understood what the hell was going on. What was even more enjoyable was watching the exchange of gestures between the two sets of supporters and the general ass-whooping we were laying out to Strand Poly.

As the game went on, slowly but surely, the more adventurous of supporters were led out by the cops. As they went away as apparent heroes, audaciously yelling at the rival crowd and welcoming the resonant ‘boos’ as a stamp of honour, I wondered what the point of this ridiculous exercise was.

Soon the spear tackles left the pitch and the side-lines became a war-zone as inebriated morons started attempting to maul each other. One spear tackle resulted in a UCL student being knocked out and from what I heard, receiving a criminal charge. There were arguments breaking out everywhere, not even restricted to UCL-King’s banter. People were spat on, I was accused of theft (that’s a long story) and generally confrontation was in the air.

At the end, I think there were a bunch of people who were facing criminal charges; several minor injuries as a result of the police’s attempt to curb the first-wave of pitch-storming; bruised egos and angry people- an unnecessary outcome of the booze and the rivalry.

This article is much overdue and the post-Derby hangover has healed itself and people have moved on. The point I seek to make is simple: historical rivalry is undeniably cool. It gives you a frame of reference and a sense of belonging. It brings you together as a university and ensures that your teams are spurred on. However, there’s a point where it just gets stupid, drunken and highly unnecessary.

 

To conclude, I will end with the much hackneyed idea of it all just being a game. A game we won. A game that King’s lost. A game we smashed Strand Poly to pieces in. But still, just a game. Let’s keep the tackles on the pitch.