The closing ceremony – for many a highlight of the weekend, for others just a place to dry off and ogle at some cheerleaders. The Mixer attended eagerly, with promise of pompoms, dancing and Brian Cantor. Yet, to be perfectly honest, we would have had more fun getting drunk with Alec Porter, the YUSU clique and that odd guy in the mankini – it was that boring. Aside from the obvious highlights – fit presenter, cheerleader getting dropped, the only male dancer and his smug “yeah, I know” look – it was mainly just watching Sam Asfahani standing up and sitting down.
The awards for every sport were presented. Every. Bloody. Sport. Half of York’s winners didn’t even turn up so Sam Asfahani had to go up and receive nearly all of the awards. Which was funny for a bit (it really wasn’t). The organisation was shambolic – fit girl had to shout for most of it and they lost the screen for a good ten minutes. Seriously, it was like watching YSTV.
The trophy for the best trophy went to climbing (fashioned out of a cliff we think), the best speech went to Emily Scott (doing her Barry White impression) and most cringeworthy moment went to the Lancaster AU President’s forced “Lancaster la la la” chant midway through her speech. TM got its fix of Brian Cantor for the day when he sheepishly moved on to the stage and stepped next to Lancaster’s suave opposite number. There was almost an iconic moment as, with the music swelling, VP Baz walked to the centre of the stage, perhaps about to perform some heroic gesture that would epitomise York’s pride in defeat and inspire us all to redeem ourselves honourably next year. Instead the fireworks went off and he jumped out of his skin. Almost, Brian.
The only really good thing about the bash was the big screen that, in between showing Lutube montages (not nearly as arousing as it first sounds), displayed the tweets from anyone who cared to send them in. It was soon disabled, when the organisers realised that the whole event was taking place amidst a backdrop of obscenities, messages to Jason Rose and Alan Partridge quotes.
All in all it was a bit useless. Central Hall might be a bit rubbish, but it certainly makes for a better awards ceremony venue than a tent. Not my words Carol, the words of Top Gear magazine.
The Mixer enjoyed Roses 2010. It had everything you could want; controversy, competitiveness, sporting excellence and darts. However one thing it certainly had too much of was rain.
When even the linesman at the football turns around and laughs at you, you feel especially low. Added to that there are only so many times you can stand people saying: “Why didn’t you wear a waterproof?” or “Where’s your umbrella?” Every question is another indictment of your stupidity at having lived in England for all your life and still not being aware that the weather has the tendency to change rather quickly. Want real pain? Try seeing Lancaster score a last minute equaliser and having to face the taunts from the opposition while being soaked to the skin.
To cap it all off TM is described by Emily Scott as looking like “a drowned rat”. Next year you can keep the rain, TM would prefer a Roses victory thank you very much.
And finally, the trampolining club might be wondering why we didn’t cover their event this year. Camilla Jenkins, our resident “irrelevant sports” correspondent, was too busy at the tiddly-winks, octopush and rugby league. I bet you were jumping for joy.