Before we get into previewing yet another weekend of hockey-wrought pandemonium, this issue of the weekend preview comes with a warning. Do not expect this to function, be funny, or be any good. It is in attempting to step into the gargantuan (although strangely youthful-looking for their age) boots of Dr Webmaster, that we, the most foolish of the freshest freshers, have condemned ourselves to challenging the impossible; to produce thousands upon thousands of words of niche CUHC chat, that, when distilled, mean absolutely nothing––genuinely, no matter how many readers there are in Scotland, Cyprus, or any other far-flung corner of the globe, no one really has any idea what it means. At least, that is the view of a fresher. Hence, in writing this weekend preview, please excuse our lack of understanding, boring references, and general inadequacy––we are trying really hard not to be unequivocally rubbish. [However, just like our hockey, our efforts are often in vain].
This week we also thought that we would include the thought-process behind the weekend preview. In the usual case, we assume that this involves pensive musing and a quizzical expression as one sifts through the thousands of excellent ideas and chat to include in the preview. However, in our case, it would be better described by panic, emptiness, despair, and what might be imagined as the psychological manifestation of a black hole. Nothing. Part of me, writing this, wants to cry. A lot. I’m tired. I don’t know what to write. I don’t know how Dr Webmaster always knows what to write. I don’t know how I will have anything to write. If I haven’t been crucified by the CUHC board by the weekend, we might assume that something faintly resembling a weekend preview did reach this page. However, I am currently under no personal assurance that this will be the case, and my recourse in this moment has been to seek divine inspiration. If you were in the library right now, you would see me praying. Literally on my knees. Please, General Baz, give me some sort of inspiration to bestow some quasi-sensical, esoteric chat upon the CUHC cohort. Despite this, we go stumbling on, and our dreadful idea this week, that we are forced to go with due to our very underdeveloped fresher brains, is thus. As we approach KitSwapTM, and of course to ensure a smooth and efficient operation, it’s a requirement that every team be deemed fit and worthy for the event. Thus, as with any interaction between a cohort of top-tier athletes, every team is subjected to a medical. The information from this report is confidential, and to be used only as certification of capacity to take part in the weekend’s event (this is an attempt at making this seem like an actual medical document! We hope you like our flailing, rhetorically inept attempt at humour.
Reports indicated a significant drop in confidence in the ‘Squanderers’ after a crushing loss last weekend. The impact of this was such, that our investigative team worried the team had lost all soul, drive, and motivation. When connected to the heart-rate monitor, the team showed alarmingly low levels of response, with such phrases as ‘Oxf*rd’, ‘Dark Blue’, and ‘GDBC’ eliciting little to no reaction. Despite this, the faith of our medical team was restored, in that for a number of players, mention of the anon. WBlue invoked a sharp spike on the monitor, for as of yet unknown reasons. It is assumed the captain possesses a certain inspiratory capacity for the ‘Squanderers’. In the case of ‘Squanderer’ Sam Pritchard, the mention of the phrase ‘We love to see it’, caused a breakage on the monitor––a heart-rate immeasurable by normal standards of equipment. Relationship toxicity has hampered the mental state of some of the ‘Squanderers’, with one hapless fresher in particular introduced to the brand new world of ‘the bin’ by the team’s social sec and fellow Sidney Sussexian. Nonetheless, despite the peculiarities unearthed by our testing, the ‘Squanderers’ would appear sufficiently psychologically healthy for the proposed event.
The ‘Squanderers’ displayed unnaturally large heads, because, well, they are still the most successful of the club’s teams this season. This was also attributed to the necessity to hold greater volumes of cultured, eloquent, and profound lyrical entertainment––songs about how Oxf*rd resembles a toilet. Most members of the side also displayed more apparent heart-strings––reportedly as someone has been playing with them.
With the ‘Squanderers’ known to religiously attend their early-morning Wednesday sessions, the medical team had great expectations as regards the fitness of this team. However, the investigation revealed that the Squanderers’ total lack of competition in their league has resulted in no need to run, or even move. Fitness was also impaired by the Squanderers’ abnormally high alcohol concentration in the blood, with this sign surprisingly present in some Squanderers as little as 12 hours before a game. As a result, the fitness level of the Squanderers was classed as critical and listed as potentially condemning them to absence from Kit Swap.
The Wanderers 1s:
The Gentlemen of the Wanderers appear to be in a constant state of confusion, not least thanks to their ever-changing identities. Whilst the GOTW are officially the CUHC M2, colloquially referred to as the Wandies, East Leagues officials insist on promoting this distinguished group of Gentlemen to the Wanderers 1s. (not to be confused with the wanders 1s who much like a good piece of chat from Ox*ford, do not exist) Then in what must have been an attempt at humour this gave birth to numerous spin-offs such as the 1derers Wans. This highly complex naming strategy can also be seen in the naming of the presses used by the 1derers/GOTW/Wandies/CUHC M2, thus as a mere fresher, the ‘red press’ is somewhat mystical perhaps even mythical. All in all, it is not surprising that the wandies often find themselves in the land of confusion, with or without the influence of WCs, so let’s hope that come kit swap they are able to locate a crate of 24 pink Saturn’s whilst they are there.
The Gentlemen of the Wanderers are reaching lofty new heights this year, with a quick glance up at the defensive line causing enough neck strain to fill the physio slots for the rest of the year. With the Wanderers having the highest height range out of any team in CUHC (possibly of all time), more diminutive GOTW midfielders have felt the worst of this as they often struggle to look higher than the huge defenders’ knees. This season has unfortunately seen a regression in the looseness of the Wandies, as the anon. PJ wearing/flying ex-Captain of years gone by has failed to instil his legacy deeply within the squad thus leading to a somewhat Infreq*ent occurrence of Woga. In an attempt to fully understand the detrimental impacts that a lack of Woga was causing, a looseness study was conducted in the third week of November which was then presented to the GOTW at a fine evening of debates. Here it was concluded that repeated usage of the big 5 stretches was an adequate substitution for WOGA, and more importantly, WCs are better preparation for a night out than Woga, something that the Wanderers Wilby keen to demonstrate come Sunday.
So far this season the Wanderers have implemented a strict and rigorous training regime to enable them to demonstrate their peak physical abilities come to the highlight of the hockey year. Some have referred to this regime as being stricter than the rule of PMBing, and as such the GOTW should be able to negotiate the physical challenge that is the Life stairs (Stairway to Heaven?) with ease. Between the bleep tests, minutes on the line, and the somewhat perilous piggy back races, Captain Ollie pushed his team to the limits by insisting that they attempt the infamous summit that is Castle hill, with the promise of a 25 minute priced curry at Tandy P. Whilst the Castle Hill summit sits at a not so daunting 25m above sea level- 19 m above the centre of Cambridge , this climb need only be attempted 466 times in order to be equivalent to summiting Everest. Therefore, sympathy must be given to those who reside at the hill colleges, as over the course of a three-year degree, cycling up the hill once a day every day during term time, they will have not only received sufficient abuse from those in Cambridge – but also effectively summited Everest.
Most of the team showed signs of being strongly dejected this week, apparently owed to Coach Charlie just generally being very angry at the moment. This was also attributed to going to the lovely country (or… province of England, shall we say) of Wales, for the 3rd time this season. Indeed with the results being D,L,L some might say the trips had been a little DULL (haha because when you spell out the results it looks like it says DULL if you add a U), although the team showed no alarming signs of psychological wear. Their spirits were also said to have been maintained by Fresher Take me Out which, although containing next to no freshers, was said to have been as awkward, uncomfortable, and genuinely unbearable as it was intended to be for the contestants. Luckily they had a bottle of port to wash all that humiliation down, before being whisked away to the isle of Fernando’s. Wait, it was the isle of Cardiff Met. Or not the isle. The… brooding industrial campus complex of Cardiff Met. The report concluded that the Mblues had been to Wales, and hence they would all have to be recommended for rigorous further testing of psychological trauma. Please see the attached document for reference.
The Mblues represented a hermetic enigma for the medical team. Some members possessed hardy, beaten knuckles, evidence of their intense want to prevent the ball from passing through. However, some members, remarkably, appeared to have no arms at all––this was apparently due to an addiction to ‘leaving’ the ball, so much so that most of the MBlues defence have now evolved, without arms, to facilitate such leaving. However, even more remarkable was the fact that the team, even with armless players, maintained the same total arm length as other teams. This was owing to one forward in the team, the length of whose arms was equivalent to that of 6 other people’s combined. Following 2 losses this week, the medical team also contacted team coach CBan, who asserted that being complete donkeys, the anatomy of each player would also include some droopier ears and a tail. Also observed were dents in the foreheads of some players. Gathering of evidence and CCTV footage indicated that this was owing to some sort of shower game.
A new vegetarian diet has placed the Mblues at the peak of their fitness. Not only in the respiratory sense, but in all aspects of bodily health. Indeed, the study noted that the motivation for pursuing such a diet, was because GameChangers quoted that one can achieve 500% more night-time activity efficiency. Since, many of the men, although at excellent fitness, have felt a blood imbalance, with reduced flow to the head, and increased flow to the lower half of the body. This has not affected fitness directly, but rather balance. One player also presented stunningly large testicles when test(icle)ing (wow would you look at that unintentional semi-pun between testicles and testing!!!) was conducted, although monitoring of his condition has seen them reduce in size. Thus, medics will continue to observe the Mblues, but in the meantime, they are suitable for access to the Kit Swap.
[Editor’s note: Sadly the Wblues freshers have no comment on anything. I assume this is because they’re trying to work out what their last drill was meant to help with.]
After narrowly missing out on 1st place in a highly important BUCS fixture, the Nomads were forced to settle for silver – something one Nomad is already familiar with. Instead of being able to return to the motherland, the team was also forced to remain in the place that shall not be named by another Cambridge team that shall not be named. The evening was looking bleak for the Nomads, but true to form their Snack Sec pulled through. Tangy cheese doritos, marvellous creations and mini rolls were all they needed to lift their moods and prepare them for the coach journey back. The Nomads were so rejuvenated that they even remembered to number up on the coach as Follows: one, two, three (some?).
[Editor’s note: Sadly the Nomads have no comment on their anatomy. I’m happy to report that the last time I checked, they all have arms, legs. Some have a head while others may have an aerosol can]
The medical team was apprehensive and regretful upon initiating the Nomads’ fitness examination. The presence of Scarlett Fever and Mumps made for an alarming environment and only made the team more wary of CORONAVIRUS symptoms. Despite the epidemic running riot through the Nomads, it was noted that some members are, at least, attempting to offset such disease, in that a number have joined the ‘green side’ (no, that’s not Cambridge in the eyes of Oxf*rd), in becoming vegetarian. However, their fussy comportment had the result that they fueled themselves with shortbreads and home-baked goods. In terms of fitness and health habits, the Nomads run a fine line between audacity, and simply not being fit for the Kit Swap.
[Editor’s note: Sadly the Beds freshers have no comment either. If every fresher bed wrote one word, they’d have got at least 12 Haikus.]