2 lessons we learnt in Brighton:
On the 14th of October, a selection of athletes from Warwick Medical School made their way to Brighton for the first NAMS match of the year. Under the guise of “tour” we arrived at the most awkward greeting imaginable at our host house. I mean, one could possibly say we weren’t wanted, but who wouldn’t want a group of post-grad medics that have been released into a city outside of Coventry?! Regardless of how intrusive we were, we made ourselves at home nonetheless.
Having discovered that BSMS weren’t coming out, we arranged to go to Laser quest for a game before dinner. The orange team, which included the likes of Pumpkin, Skeleton and Demon went out and annihilated the purple team. Despite being instructed that running was not allowed in the arena, Hom and HWT ran out of the gate like a pair of greyhounds. “Fucking hell Hom, you’re not allowed to run!” As always throughout the game, HWT was an utter liability for the orange team. On the purple team, Vicki (a new recruit) was shot in the back about 10,000 times – seems like we did learn something from WMS after all…. Meanwhile, Gurdy was too busy getting a selfie in the photo booth. Julia revealed a cold killer instinct that none of us had ever seen on the pitch. Yet somehow at the end of this game, HWT aka Demon managed to win this game – WTF!
We followed the evening with pizza. Even though Matt and Sarah had sacked us off to have a romantic meal, we had a great time. HWT panicked when the waitress came to take our order and then ended up not ordering any pizza. Clearly, he had never been allowed out to anywhere nice – memo for next time mate, waitresses come and take orders. Once all the food had arrived, HWT was waiting for scraps, even harassing the only 2 played from BSMS to come out for their food.
Thornton, the BNOC of Brighton took us to Walkabout. Although it was much bigger than SMACK, the floors were equally as sticky, the drinks equally as shit – we felt a home. Hom got the night started with a round of tequila for everyone. Skelly was living the life of Stoptober regrets - sympathy was minimal.
It didn’t take long for us to hit the dancefloor. The combination of awkward Dad dancing, lack of rhythm, slinky hips and fist pumping led to a sight often seen at most WMS events. Resembling an emu, Richard, another new recruit was head and shoulders taller than the crowd. But, being the athlete, he claimed to be, stopped drinking early but was able to show us a good two step shuffle. The night progressed and drinks kept flowing. The group as always danced in an awkward circle, with strangers staring in longingly around the perimeter. Little did one of these strangers think that during a beat drop a glass would get slammed onto his head by Hom. This was not to be the last count of GBH caused by Hom this weekend.
At the end of the night Caitlin, Harry, Vicki and Ieuan were walking home. Of course, seeing as we live in an area furthest away from the sea. Ieuan and his “best idea ever,” would probably come as no surprise. The trio ran off into the sea, leaving Vicki behind, for a little dip in the sea. Of course HWT must have been like a glowing beacon of light on a dark night. As part of the initiations Vicki decided to also go for a skinny dip, but was left to fend for herself in the dark sea, whilst HWT shouted at Caitlin with his furrowed brow “why do you have your fucking thong on Caitlin, for fucks sake!” Having sufficiently cooled off in the sea, HWT proclaimed “it’s only small cus its cold!” (Not that anyone would’ve looked at HWT in such a way that the size of his willy would’ve particularly mattered)
Now finally onto game day. Most of us woke up with a sore head, acid reflux, increased bowel movements and bleary eyes (though according to HWT he was blind). Our hosts kindly prepared some breakfast for us before we headed to the pitch. Despite posting the address to the pitch, Ieuan and HWT were the only two to somehow get lost. I imagine probably something to do with HWT directing Ieuan. Somehow, they ended up on a country lane down towards a family and their farm. Meanwhile at the pitch the rest of us medicated with omeprazole, paracetamol and LOTS of water – perfect pregame prep. Umpires called the 2 minute warning before the start of the game. Of course HWT and Ieuan were still nowhere to be seen so we started the game without them. Luckily for Thornton he was able to borrow dick guard from the opposition as Julia had forgotten about his family jewels and left the abdo guard in Kenilworth. It certainly proved necessary as Thornton saves the ball in a manner which can only be described as Tunstall-like - dick first.
The start of the game, for lack of better description, was a shit show. Unlike BSMS who turned up looking fresh and ready, our squad were having palpitations, completely inept at coordination and all over the shop. Obviously, there’s the added fact that they were all like 18 years old. BSMS took their opportunity to strike and scored the first goal. I say scored their first goal, HWT actually scored their goal for them. In the following minutes Caitlin found her inner rugby player, floored a boy to the ground and completely emasculated him. Somehow by the 15th minute, most of the alcohol must have been metabolised and we were getting back on track. 2 goals followed and we finished half time at 3-1 up.
Half time gave us the opportunity to take on necessary fluids and enjoy some well-prepared half time oranges. We went out prepared and expecting 11 goals to top up our score as promised by newbie Richard.
Brighton came out strong after half time, until the unfortunate moment that took out one of their players. In a clash of sticks between Hom and the BSMS player the ball popped up into her face. A waterfall of blood soon commenced from this girl’s nose and the game was put on hold. An ambulance was called. This was the 2nd count of GBH from Hom this weekend.
We went on to finish the game, with 1 more goal from BSMS and 1 more goal for us. A short corner in the final seconds of the game seemed the opportune moment for us to finish on a high. It didn’t go quite to plan and Sweatman forgot that he was playing hockey and not baseball – sending the ball into orbit. Thankfully we won the game (given that the only reason we came was because they are the only beatable team in our pool). Anyway final score was 4-2, not exactly sure where the 11 from Richard was, maybe he’s saving them for our next game? But hey, at least we all know that Thornton did his undergrad at Sussex.
- James Thornton did his undergrad at the University of Sussex
- Harrys penis is only small because it was cold
On the 14th of October, a selection of athletes from Warwick Medical School made their way to Brighton for the first NAMS match of the year. Under the guise of “tour” we arrived at the most awkward greeting imaginable at our host house. I mean, one could possibly say we weren’t wanted, but who wouldn’t want a group of post-grad medics that have been released into a city outside of Coventry?! Regardless of how intrusive we were, we made ourselves at home nonetheless.
Having discovered that BSMS weren’t coming out, we arranged to go to Laser quest for a game before dinner. The orange team, which included the likes of Pumpkin, Skeleton and Demon went out and annihilated the purple team. Despite being instructed that running was not allowed in the arena, Hom and HWT ran out of the gate like a pair of greyhounds. “Fucking hell Hom, you’re not allowed to run!” As always throughout the game, HWT was an utter liability for the orange team. On the purple team, Vicki (a new recruit) was shot in the back about 10,000 times – seems like we did learn something from WMS after all…. Meanwhile, Gurdy was too busy getting a selfie in the photo booth. Julia revealed a cold killer instinct that none of us had ever seen on the pitch. Yet somehow at the end of this game, HWT aka Demon managed to win this game – WTF!
We followed the evening with pizza. Even though Matt and Sarah had sacked us off to have a romantic meal, we had a great time. HWT panicked when the waitress came to take our order and then ended up not ordering any pizza. Clearly, he had never been allowed out to anywhere nice – memo for next time mate, waitresses come and take orders. Once all the food had arrived, HWT was waiting for scraps, even harassing the only 2 played from BSMS to come out for their food.
Thornton, the BNOC of Brighton took us to Walkabout. Although it was much bigger than SMACK, the floors were equally as sticky, the drinks equally as shit – we felt a home. Hom got the night started with a round of tequila for everyone. Skelly was living the life of Stoptober regrets - sympathy was minimal.
It didn’t take long for us to hit the dancefloor. The combination of awkward Dad dancing, lack of rhythm, slinky hips and fist pumping led to a sight often seen at most WMS events. Resembling an emu, Richard, another new recruit was head and shoulders taller than the crowd. But, being the athlete, he claimed to be, stopped drinking early but was able to show us a good two step shuffle. The night progressed and drinks kept flowing. The group as always danced in an awkward circle, with strangers staring in longingly around the perimeter. Little did one of these strangers think that during a beat drop a glass would get slammed onto his head by Hom. This was not to be the last count of GBH caused by Hom this weekend.
At the end of the night Caitlin, Harry, Vicki and Ieuan were walking home. Of course, seeing as we live in an area furthest away from the sea. Ieuan and his “best idea ever,” would probably come as no surprise. The trio ran off into the sea, leaving Vicki behind, for a little dip in the sea. Of course HWT must have been like a glowing beacon of light on a dark night. As part of the initiations Vicki decided to also go for a skinny dip, but was left to fend for herself in the dark sea, whilst HWT shouted at Caitlin with his furrowed brow “why do you have your fucking thong on Caitlin, for fucks sake!” Having sufficiently cooled off in the sea, HWT proclaimed “it’s only small cus its cold!” (Not that anyone would’ve looked at HWT in such a way that the size of his willy would’ve particularly mattered)
Now finally onto game day. Most of us woke up with a sore head, acid reflux, increased bowel movements and bleary eyes (though according to HWT he was blind). Our hosts kindly prepared some breakfast for us before we headed to the pitch. Despite posting the address to the pitch, Ieuan and HWT were the only two to somehow get lost. I imagine probably something to do with HWT directing Ieuan. Somehow, they ended up on a country lane down towards a family and their farm. Meanwhile at the pitch the rest of us medicated with omeprazole, paracetamol and LOTS of water – perfect pregame prep. Umpires called the 2 minute warning before the start of the game. Of course HWT and Ieuan were still nowhere to be seen so we started the game without them. Luckily for Thornton he was able to borrow dick guard from the opposition as Julia had forgotten about his family jewels and left the abdo guard in Kenilworth. It certainly proved necessary as Thornton saves the ball in a manner which can only be described as Tunstall-like - dick first.
The start of the game, for lack of better description, was a shit show. Unlike BSMS who turned up looking fresh and ready, our squad were having palpitations, completely inept at coordination and all over the shop. Obviously, there’s the added fact that they were all like 18 years old. BSMS took their opportunity to strike and scored the first goal. I say scored their first goal, HWT actually scored their goal for them. In the following minutes Caitlin found her inner rugby player, floored a boy to the ground and completely emasculated him. Somehow by the 15th minute, most of the alcohol must have been metabolised and we were getting back on track. 2 goals followed and we finished half time at 3-1 up.
Half time gave us the opportunity to take on necessary fluids and enjoy some well-prepared half time oranges. We went out prepared and expecting 11 goals to top up our score as promised by newbie Richard.
Brighton came out strong after half time, until the unfortunate moment that took out one of their players. In a clash of sticks between Hom and the BSMS player the ball popped up into her face. A waterfall of blood soon commenced from this girl’s nose and the game was put on hold. An ambulance was called. This was the 2nd count of GBH from Hom this weekend.
We went on to finish the game, with 1 more goal from BSMS and 1 more goal for us. A short corner in the final seconds of the game seemed the opportune moment for us to finish on a high. It didn’t go quite to plan and Sweatman forgot that he was playing hockey and not baseball – sending the ball into orbit. Thankfully we won the game (given that the only reason we came was because they are the only beatable team in our pool). Anyway final score was 4-2, not exactly sure where the 11 from Richard was, maybe he’s saving them for our next game? But hey, at least we all know that Thornton did his undergrad at Sussex.