Wimps the lot of 'em. Sports teams initiations are a Right of Passage and should be a fiercely upheld tradition. I suffered horribly through mine at a certain North Eastern Polytechnic, ingesting laxatives mixed with vodka, chilli powder and Boddingtons, being chained to my 'brother' and being forced to streak naked through our rival institutions library and then down the Central Motorway to get my clothes. I was pissed on, spat at and ritually humilated. The highlight for me was âgrand-slammingâ in the Hancock pub still chained to my âbrotherâ. One kid got plasti-cuffed to the basin in a disabled toilet and left in a nightclub until the bouncer found him at 04:30 that morning. The video is a vision of Hell, and I know that it will surface on my wedding day or should I ever take public office. A night on which reputations are made and legends born. I even trapped. Admittedly, she was called âThe Prop Shaggerâ and had a face like the proverbial melted welly, but thatâs not the pointâ¦
The next year, I had been appointed Club Captain and had received the âtry not to kill anyoneâ speech from the AU president, who âincidentally- had been a key part of the shenanigans the season before. None-the-less, we booked the Student Union, collected money from the Fresherâs for booze, told them to bring cheese or wine with them, and waited with baited breath for the fun to begin.
The idiots that had brought cheese had to eat the whole block in 3 minutes. The guys who had brought wine had to funnel it. Challenges included the âDinner in a Pint Glassâ (Veg Soup/Chicken Curry/Wine/Custard/Cheese/Port), âLick the Cream from the Props Feet raceâ, a round of âSee It Off Or Youâre G*yâ and other staples of rugby clubs across the country. Sadly, due to time constraints and a jobs-worth union worker âDance of the Flaming Arrseholesâ was cancelled that year. Funnels and yards of ale were obtained and vast quantities of ale were imbibed and there was more nakedness than a naked thing on a nudist beach.
Other poly traditions were upheld, such as running up the âdownâ escalator en masse at the Haymarket. Naked. A team âwarm upâ down Northumberland Street, a âPenguin Walkâ to Dobsonâs (God rest itâs soul) and two fresherâs even ended up in the Tyne (I thought this was good, seeing as we were heading to The Gate, not the quayside.)
No-body died, the tw*ts were weeded out, and we were left with a stronger, closer rugby club than before. The only rule we had was that you could only do to your âkidsâ what you would be prepared to do yourself (this weeds out any proper bullies) and absolutely no violence towards the fresherâs (punishments were naked press ups, fines, or laps.). When we arrived at the final venue, All Fresherâs were welcomed into the rugby club officially and their careers as Poly Rugby Players began. Everyone ends up âseniors included- pissed as farts and it creates a common ground to develop on.
Initiations are part and parcel of sporting life, does anybody have further tales of tomfoolery, nakedness, and heavy drinking?
"They put students at serious risk and exclude students who don't want to take part in that binge-drinking culture."
What a bag of pish.
Living in a University town, I see students every night out binge drinking, nicking stuff, getting the crap kicked out of them by locals etc.
So this big feckin girl needs to cut the apron strings from 'Mummy' , and go get pished.
I bet he's one of the pontificators on a sunday in Costas telling the whole world [including those of us who couldnt really give a sh1t]. How he's hard up because Mumsy hasnt sent his weekly allowance.