It was with a heavy heart that I packed my stickbag for the very last time before my last ever game for CUHC. It has been a rollercoaster 4 years: full of ups (Varsity 2019) and downs (getting knocked out by Ferg at liftboxing), but 4 years that I will look back on with a great fondness.
However, I still had one last game ahead of me and so I decided to make the most of it and have lots and lots of fun. We all expected a tough match against 2nd in the league, but fortunately Wapping had suffered a few injuries and so had called up some random bloke from their 3s.
COMMANDER INTRODUCES MATTHEW COCKERILL
OOOH (Y) HI (Y) MATT (Y).
Charlie said that he recognised “that one at the back that looks like a thumb” and that he would have “probably lost a few yards since his days at CUHC”, and ME OH MY was he right. He just could not live with my blistering pace and electric hands but oh how he wished he could!! Matthew, if you’re reading this, you keep enjoying those corporate lunches xx.
And so we played some more hockey and found ourselves 1-0 up going into the last seconds of the match.
We won a shortie and soon had it upgraded to a stroke!
At first I thought: “Wooow! It’s a stroke!”
Then I thought: “Oooh this is my last game, I could take this”
Next I thought: “I’m definitely taking this”
And everyone was waving in my direction for me to come and take the stroke and so I waltzed up to the penalty spot and placed the ball right in the very middle of it.
After that, I thought: “Holy flummery, what if I miss a stroke with my last ever touch for CUHC. Everyone will DoD me!”
Then I thought: “Ah don’t worry about that! Just slam it into the goal hole! Bottom right!”
And so I aimed bottom right but the keeper dived bottom right! But thankfully the flick got caught in the hook of my stick and actually went top right and so we won 2-0 WOW NICE.
I thought to myself that was a fitting send-off because I’ve always loved scoring goals and I really loved scoring that goal too.
Charlie said it was really good that we won without actually playing very well which I felt was a bit of a backhanded compliment but after all points are points. Especially important in the double points weekends to get all 6 points and shoot up the league table we noted. We also vowed, as a team, not to forget what winning felt like so that we could all remember how to win again next week. At this point, I began to feel a bit sad as I realised there would never be a ‘next week’ for me after all:((
Fortunately, Duckers used the megaboom to play some megachoons and the youngsters distracted me from my sorrows by explaining to me what a ‘dab’ was as I had never heard of one of these before.
We all showered as usual and then voted on MoMs and DoDs. I received lots of lots of votes for both awards and all because I was leaving. I found this particularly confusing as it felt like I was being both rewarded and punished at the same time. Nonetheless, I graciously accepted my awards before saying my goodbyes and heading to Gatwick for my flight to St. Petersburg. It’s currently negative degrees C here in the motherland and so I’m thinking of sneaking back for one last big night out at Xmas dinner tonight!! This is not goodbye, it’s just ‘until next time’.
All my love,
It all started so well. I arrived at the course with a bellyful of fajitas, committing to a solid putting and chipping practice in Spoons. My 15kg / 33lb resistance band (does that unit of measurement even make sense?) helped lubricate the joints for what promised to be a sub-100 round. They always say never to take a practice swing with your driver before the first tee. Well, this was where it all started to go wrong. When you haven’t tried to drive for the green since fresher’s week, the bunker becomes your best friend. In my case, the bunker was a sorrowful bin. Unfortunately, this bin’s wheels came off at Clare bar, where Daddy Leng became Baddy Leng by breaking the first rule: don’t detach from your partner. By this point, Gigi Dunn was so fed up with my drunken dribbling that she took a 6-hour ‘loo break’. Sorry Gigi.
Some kind soul then saw that my bin had no wheels and helped carry it to Hawks. Thankfully, Tyler suggested we share a jug of Toma. What a truly wonderful idea. Truly wonderful. Fast forward 20 minutes and I made a eurekan discovery: who knew that my bin could metamorphose into a larger, deeper and uglier one. Fascinating. However, by the time I made it to vinyl, I was no longer in the poubelle. I was riding a beautiful chariot driven by a muscular unicorn – Johnny Parke. My steed was so faithful, that we shared a bottle of wine (gasoline?) from the Vinyl bar. We had a lovely conversation about long hair, life and inflation. However, this unicorn-cum-engineer offered an illuminating discussion on the structural integrity of Vinyl. Wanting to test his theories, I conducted a detailed survey on the structural and passionate capabilities of the surfaces in Vinyl. My findings pushed the boundaries of human knowledge to such an extent that I was awarded the CUHC MBlues DOD fellowship for the 23rd November 2019 Academic Year.
The Thursday night corner session was a great success. Bannister (2019) had shown the inverse relationship between a good Thursday corner session and the Saturday conversion rate. This relationship continued to hold true on the weekend. However, Jackson (1874) furthered this study in showing that corner success and outfield goals are direct substitutes. Marrying these two pieces illustrates that no matter what happens on Thursday, we score lots and lots of goals. A particular thanks to Saffron & Wild Rice for helping us drive this point home. The bar is now in the exosphere, and so is our direction of travel. Onwards and upwards.
CUHC away debut.
A prompt 8:13 message from a Mr Rose confirmed my greatest hopes. After a night canooodling in the pub observed by some of our finest CUHC members on lime and sodas (grow up lads) and an unfortunate buttock injury to dimi, it was going to be my first away debut. What a day.
Meet at Wilby was uneventful and the drive down consisted of standard chat, a cheeky speeding ticket and some quality tunes.
Highlight: undertaking Rowland after he thought he was man enough for the overtake. Cute.
All that aside and we rocked up at a pitch which seemed to be drawn by an 8 Yr old. Lines as straight Elton John and a bounce as dull as listening to Hugo taking about his blues days. The changing room wasn’t much better, quick bit of quick cricket and some ball tossing we soon realised actually listening to ollys line up and tactics might actually be more interesting.
Pre match antics aside and onto the game. *Disclaimer – due to recent match reports some facts might be changed to add to the enjoyment of the reader and due to my lack of memory.
Strong start, lots of leads, the ball was fizzing around like a well shaken coke can and soon after soaking up some pressure and solid defending from Lewis and Rowland. We soon managed to locate Hugo up top who promptly made their defence look silly and win a p-flick. The flick was as smooth as his luscious locks and we where 1-0 up. Get in.
This didn’t last long, paddy decided hockey wasn’t for him and football was his sport and after numerous feet and short corners, Toby holding strong in goal. The pressure told, and unfortunately they manged to sneak one in the back of the net from a counter.
CUHC had plenty of chances, the ball being shipped across goal with silver and Gibson with decent chances. The only problem was that it didn’t want to end up in the goal…. By this point the match had deteriorated into a what can only be described as a fist fight. Numerous CUHC (mainly lewis) got told to go to the gym and Ben took an elbow to the neck, which In the eyes (or one eye of the ancient geezer with glasses) of the umpire was an obvious foul. Ben, come on mate if your gonna make a fuss, at least foul the block properly. Toby decided to pick a fight with a very angry man and was gonna finish him in the showers? Take that as you will but rather you than me Toby.
More chances went amiss and the whistle blew for half time. A very uninspiring team talk really roused the spirits and lack of jelly babies was a concern. But onto the second half. Heffae was all over the ball like a terrier with a rat and I think I saw kabir run? Much like kabir in cindies, our conversion rate was poor and more opportunities went amiss, especially myself which I had almost too much time top D, a cheeky coffee and after waiting for the ball to slowly roll into the D, managed to put it wide. Some say you miss by an inch you miss by a mile, good job mine was a mile. Embrassing.
Other highlights of the seconds half:
Olly Rose got pointed out by the opposition, in their words not mine, as “dog shit”. Made up for it by getting our second goal late in the half. Good stuff.
Ethan getting mild concussion.
Jack did some running and managed to rack up some cards and 10mins on the bench. Lovely tackles mate, I can see why you play upfront.
They scored 2 more.
Post match reflection:
Silver spends to much time fondling instead of showering
Onion bahji doesn’t really go with baked potatoes
Someone is the best in the world at milk to weetbix ratio (subjective)
Olly lost the team sheet under his plate
Will James needs to up his post match wear after a poor showing of black tie on Wednesday and wearing Oxford trackies post game. Tut tut.
Lewis does a great artistic drawing of the pitch on a mirror and someone likes compression pants?
All in all a disappointing results as they where toilet and we could of had them.
Mom- Forgot but I’m sure they had a great game.
Dod- Will James- numerous reasons but to sum up- speeding ticket, poor dress sense
In a rather uneventful week which saw the Mens Blues kick off their BUCS campaign and some poor bloke getting burnt whilst everyone oos and ahhs at some bright explosions in the sky (very strange cult like ritual if you ask me), there were a few incredulous stand out happenings worth mentioning in this here match report.
A certain ‘chap who has some non-friends on tall mountains’, despite being named on the team sheet, was not present on the coach to the biggest away day for the mens blues this season, until they go to the same place again and then further on another occasion and then less further on another occasion after that.
In his place was his name sake, ‘chap who has some non-friends on tall mountains’ v2 who put in a very respectable performance in aiding the side to a 3-3 draw against a side who threatened and have beaten a certain Oxf*rd side in the BUCS league already this season. A cynical foul by Oily Fatlips lead to his first card of the season – first of many from what i’ve seen, terrible challenge!!.
On the coach on the way back occurred 2 of the aforementioned incredulous stand out happenings:
Number 1 being the lack of visit to the McDonalds that was quite literally a stones throw from the pitch?!?! Shaptain Steve Tyler refused to comment on this debacle.
Number 2 being anonymous Hugh(e) Jack(ed)man’s ability to complete an essay on what can only be described as an incredibly loose boozy bus with many a triv question being answered.
Number 3 on the list was the outstanding time we made on the return journey, weaving in out of traffic on a jammed motorway. The driver was later spotted “killing it” on the dfloor of cindois. I was absent for the rest of the week until the game on Saturday having a lovely time so am unable to comment on any events that may have occurred though I hear there may be a few call ups to the England side from the mblues after their loss to the James MBE in the final. Nothing much to say about Saturdays game other than that they had a donkey in almost every position across the pitch.
Mom: not sure
P.s. will someone please dethrone Obi Wang Kenobi at the top of the fantasy league he’s WAY to happy with himself!!
Over the past £20,160 (in matchday fines) the men’s blues have unleashed their secret weapon. No, it’s not Olly Phillips’ entirely natural rig (it must be natural, because he never gyms, and rarely turns up to S&C). Nor is it James and his giant peaches, despite Norwich’s intense focus on neutralising them (more on that later). The secret weapon is our feelings. Aside from Sean and his fellow Chunderers who stubbornly refuse to rehabilitate themselves into the wider group of non-toxic MBlues, we have made real progress in becoming less fragile defensively, whilst also avoiding fragile and toxic masculinity. We remember and discuss our feelings. More specifically, we remember how this feels. ‘This’ being ‘winning’, and the ‘feeling’ being ‘a winning feeling’. We are as in touch with our feelings as we are in touch with whoever we’re marking in the rouge (red) press. As an homage to this positive progress we have made, I will describe my own emotional rememberings of the rollercoaster that this week has been.
Today I was happy. There are several reasons for my happiness. The first was of course our huge win. Borussia Mönchengladbach beat Werder Bremen 3-1 to maintain their position at the top of Germany’s Bundesliga. C’mon the boys! The second reason is of course Strength and Conditioning! I love nothing more than spending time in the gym, although I am getting a little worried that my rig is complete, and that all the work I am putting in at S&C is doing nothing – it’s hard to improve on perfection. Thirdly, I spent the evening teaching Jean and DJ how to play risk – helping others is always fun! And finally, on a note of fewer importance, Cambridge University Hockey and Touch Rugby Club’s Men’s 1s earned their second win of the season yesterday, to put them in a strongly-mediocre lower-mid-table position approaching the winter break.
Hi again Dairy,
Today I was cold. I actually went to some lectures today, and vaguely attempted to do some work, but it was quite a cold day. I also registered to vote, because I can’t spoil the ballot in protest against the evil of capitalism without registering. Fortunately I had training this evening, and so I was able to practice my touch rugby skills, and show off my fresh new astros! It was really cold though, and I need to remember gloves for when I’m cycling next time. Damn all those Chunderers who skipped training for their disco.
Today was boring. Was nice to have loads of shandies in Sidbar in the evening though, so I can be severely hungover for Wednesday!
Today I was Greg (arious). Plymouth at home was set to be a thriller – we’ve had some real contests against them in the past. Sadly, the only contest was about how many goals Ed Sides could score (1), and how many Matthew Thomas Milward Roberts could steal (4). Following on from Plymouth, I went to a talk about Palaeoceanography and some other science (because I do lots of science, all the time). Lots of wine was consumed, because it was there, and it was free, which is basically free money. This was where the evening began to escalate. I followed the well trodden path from Sidney -> Sainsbury’s to buy myself a vegetarian pizza, because I love the environment almost as much as I like talking about how I’m better than other people because I don’t eat meat. I also need to remember to put all the MBlues down for veggie teas this weekend, to offset the evil work of our former teammates Fergal MacNib, and Kieron Gilmoor (who CBan says is Shaun’s older brother). Then came some more escalation. A large Hawks followed on from the pizza, where myself and a load of boring old people with silver shlids (well at least one had some grey visible on the Sides) played a load of drinking games that (a) make no sense; and (b) weren’t as fun as a good ol’ game of twenty-one. I had already purchased a ticket for a Cindois of the Wednesday variety, and so it follows that I then went there after Hawks. Cindies was fun: some kind soul bought a load of tequilas, and Silver’s girlfriend didn’t call me a ‘boring 4th year’, as she so often does. Following Cindies, I went to the Van of Life for some unnecessary chips, and then followed this up by returning home to Sidney.
Sorry, but I’m feeling rather fragile this morning following the sending that occurred on Wednesday. I’m just very tired/hungover. Thankfully I don’t have any contact hours or lectures or any of that university nonsense, so I can just sleep, and prepare myself for the big game of touch rugby this evening.
Today I’m back to my excitable, bubbly self. All that is standing between me and matchday is 1 essay and 1 video of Bill Taylor singing along to his favourite artist, uncovered by the investigative journalism of @General_Baz. Suffice to say, the video of Bill Taylor impeded my attempts to overcome the essay, but I managed it, just like my gym-buddy JP managed to bench a 1-rep max of 100kg. We’re pretty similar strength-wise. You’re welcome for the shout-out by the way.
Today I remembered how ‘this’ feels. Because we won. I was especially happy because I didn’t make a single mistake in the match. I wish I could say the same for poor James, who had his Giant (now severely swollen) peaches savaged by the Norwich defence, and was left “lying on the cold hard ground” (to quote Bill Taylor singing his favourite song). Failing to keep a clean sheet for Tony on his birthday was perhaps a fitting end to a week in which the sheets were not always clean. Aside from Campkin, I hope we can all remember how this feels going forwards.