I went to see Robot Wars Live and it was the best evening of my life

Do you remember Robot Wars? Craig Charles’ sassy one liners and the crowd you envied week in, week out every Friday evening when Robot Wars hit our screens.

Last week we drove for six hours and 309 miles to Maidstone in Kent to see Robot Wars Live – in 2014.

We pulled up, more excited than we had ever been, before looking up to find an abandoned-looking rugby club and squash courts, with approximately ten cars in the car park.

We have been conned, we thought. Over a 600 mile round-trip, for this.

Hopes of the Robot greats battling it out to the chants of bloodthirsty foam finger pointers where replaced by images of 4-year-olds playing ‘flamewheels’.

However, the errors of an overexcited co-pilot were corrected, and excitement was restored as we realise we have taken an early left.

We set off and 90 yards down the road we arrive: Maidstone leisure centre, with a purpose-built arena and stall seating. This was it.

We missed the parade for the robots in the first half. It was a setback, but we had arrived. We caught the remaining (and exhilarating) part of the first half. The interval came and the smug VIPs lined up.

We ask an official if we could possibly upgrade, explaining how far we had come.

They told us it wasn’t possible, before a 6-year-old child walked past us, looked up and said “I’m VIP, baby”. Robot Wars was before his time.

Raging, we planned a break in. “We are student journalists”, we said. We took some fairly standard pics (see below) and made a break for it.

But now it was time for the merch. We splashed out a frankly extortionate £38 on Robot Wars tshirts, foam claws which both had the classic “3… 2… 1… Activate!” on them.

For £38 quid we could’ve bought 16 single G and T’s from Bar Blanc on a Tuesday. But somehow it was all worth it.

The second half kicked off and things got a bit awkward and quiet when one of the commentators asked one of the team captains, “I’ve heard rumours you’re a porn star, is it true?”.

What he meant was “P-A-W-N” star. Because he works in a pawn shop and is really good at his job. The joke is mostly lost on the pre-teen crowd.

The place had the vibes of a football match.

“SHRED” and “EEEEEZAAAAY, EEEEEZAAAAY” were our team chants for the second half.

We tried to make “SMELLY CHAT, SMELLY CHAT!” a thing. Unfortunately it was a tough crowd and no one joined in.

Then the commentators started throwing sweets, and our fears were realised. It was far worse than a football match.

As if it could get worse, they brought out another bag full of sweets, then another, then another.

The crowd descended into pandemonium. Frankie snatched a sweet from a  small child’s hand, grunting “it’s mine”.

Tensions were running high as the event finished, and emotions were in tatters. One woman turned to a little boy on the stairs and said “don’t push me!”.

On the whole however, the atmosphere was jolly.

A few times throughout the show, they mentioned that they want to get back on the telly, and enticed the crowd with dreams of “seeing Ripper flip other robots out of the ring… in HD! From your sofa!”

The people went wild, and we were sold. So we have decided to muster some support – from us, the student generation that grew up with Robot Wars.

Below is a petition to get Robot Wars back on the TV, and give the children of today the joyous robot experience we took for granted.

Sign the petition here: https://www.change.org/p/the-british-broadcasting-association-bring-robot-wars-back-to-our-screens