Although the employees of the Environmental Health Department of my local council seem somewhat more efficient than those featured in Willâ€™s recent clash with the UK Passport Service, my first week of university has been somewhat hectic. Accommodation troubles aside, the beginning of the first term brings to university sports clubs everywhere the annual joy of starting from scratch with almost entirely new management.
Last Tuesday was this yearâ€™s Sports Fair. For those who have never attended such an event, I would advise against it. Choosing a sport this way is a little like running the gauntlet. The larger clubs (like, for example, that of menâ€™s cricket) can merely wait for students to come to them. Lacking such luxury, exec members from smaller sports skulk around the Studentâ€™s Union as if loitering on disreputable street corners, wearing various items of logo-covered kit with an artificial smile, thrusting flyers into the hands of bewildered freshers. Within moments, these victims will be whisked away to a desk to sign away their contact details and, potentially, their souls.
One such girl was brought to the Ladiesâ€™ Cricket desk by one of the more practiced con artists on our exec. She was just about to dutifully write down her email address when she looked up with a confused expression. As if sheâ€™d just woken up from her last lecture, she asked, â€œCan you explain, what is cricket? Iâ€™m from Spain, and I have never heard of it before.â€
Quite how she made it as far as the desk, Iâ€™ll never know. Nor will I know how I could possibly have given her an answer that was sufficiently brief yet appealing. Understandably, my bumbled attempts didnâ€™t persuade her to attend our Taster session. Suggestions, anyone?