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The Annual Dinner 2015

More photos on the CSHC Facebook group

Setting the Scene

  • September. The nervous anticipation of what is to come. Will I be picked? Why have I not retired yet? Do I have to go to Alford?
  • November. I am cold. I am, however, enjoying my hockey. I am part of a team which, whilst not necessarily always playing with the sparkling flair I perhaps dream of, has a good old giggle, usually at another team member’s expense. Do I have to go to Alford?
  • January. I am still cold. The Christmas break refreshed my competitive juices though, and I return to the second half of the season with the gusto of a keen but limited tuba player in a secondary school band. Do I have to go to Alford?
  • March. I have to go to Alford. My team may or may not be promoted/relegated. I care little by this point as I am only thinking of the End of Season Dinner.

The Main Event

This is the evening I have been waiting for.

Pre-drinks is an idea bettered only by pre-pre-drinks. Westminster College looks lovely and the mood is suitably excitable as those present indulge in a brief chit-chat before the serious business of pennying (in a mutually supportive environment in which the girls hunt in unison using tactics honed by long evenings spent watching the velociraptors in Jurassic Park) begins in earnest.

A meal comes and goes. Subsequent reports suggest the fodder was excellent and at least comparable to the Chairman’s description of some of the teas he has enjoyed throughout the year.

Is it 9 o’clock already? Well, then it’s time for the speeches to begin and, thankfully, Sneadey has sourced a PA system of dubious provenance for a bargain £1.50.

The Captain’s speeches were, for the most part, mercifully short and each and every award winner given a rousing reception (details to follow via an official Club post shortly).

So, that just about rounds up the evening. Apart from some shots. And a boat race? And Fez Club?

The Aftermath

It is morning. My face feels like several students have spent a term studying geography in it. I smell like compost. Photos appear on Facebook but thankfully I am in few of them. I recall little of the previous evening but still have a wide smile on my face. Can I go to Alford?