The Mixer loves Freshers’ week.
Perhaps it’s the smell of desperation in the air, perhaps it’s the sound of freshly unpacked Jack Wills gillets rustling all over campus or maybe it’s just the simple joy of being young and alive.
Whatever the reason it’s a season to be anticipated and revered for the macabre spectacle it provides.
As cash registers become fat through the sale of alcohol, soon to be vomited up all over Mickelgate, and the fresh meat are treated to the sounds of, amongst others, the Pigeon Detectives, it’s a week that also raises many questions.
Why are the Pigeon Detectives being allowed to play live music? What is a Pigeon Detective? Who is responsible for booking the Pigeon Detectives? Do they think the Pigeon Detectives are good or are they being wilfully objectionable? Can they be put on trial? – are just some of them.
Most of the other posers are being considered by worried sports captains, petrified that the void left by their star centre back, who has finished Uni and is on a graduate scheme at Costa Coffee, will remain unfilled by the arriving cohort of spindly youngsters.
The Mixer urges optimism. We have such faith that York has been blessed to succeed in everything it does, apart from University league tables, that we know this year is going to be something special.
For every second row that has headed for pastures new an implausibly beefy public school boy will take his place and play with sincerity and dignity whilst showing respect to women on club nights out.
If a opening bowler is on a year in industry then a gangly fella who steams in to bowl at 80mph will slot seamlessly into the attack and, like the impeccable team mate he is, will bring along a tupperware box of sliced florida oranges to every match.
Decimated college football lineups will be augmented by members of the Barcelona youth system who shunned the vacuous lifestyle of a professional footballer to study Management and Accountancy in this fair city.
The pitches will stay dry, there will be passionate, talented referees at every match and we’ll win an away Roses at a canter befitting of a seaside donkey.
Trust us it’s going to happen, maybe Brian Cantor will take a pay cut as well, or at least look less disdainful of the masses of students populating his fiefdom.
We may not be the best judges though. You see, it’s been a tiring year for TM and we can only stagger onward toward the finish line of our term in office in the knowledge that maybe there’s someone out there waitindg to step into our shoes.
So roll up John Motson’s grandson, come hither Henry Winter’s illegitimate love child ushered off to Uni under a veil of secrecy – we need you.
It’s only fair isn’t it? After a year of giving your all at goal attack for the netball team your captain wouldn’t turn to you and say “Sorry Tabitha, no-one fancies it, stick your bib back on and forsake your degree for the 121st best University in the world”.
So prepare your CV’s, ready your suit for interview and then stow them away for when you’re trying to get a proper job. Anyone will do.