My last hurrah, the perfect farewell to Boar Sport

Image: Shingi Mararike

As a soppy, overly sentimental sports fan first, and a journalist second, I’ll be the first to tell you, nothing beats a story with a perfect symmetry to it. Think Andy Murray breaking down in tears on the hallowed lawn of Centre Court before coming back a year later to take home the trophy he let slip 365 days prior. It doesn’t get much better than going back to where you started to finish the job.

Image: Shingi Mararike

I still remember my very first spot of student sports journalism. Still brace-faced and bandy legged, just a little younger and probably less pockmarked, I hauled myself down to Coventry’s Planet Ice to watch Ice Hockey without a care in the world or a clue what the rules were. It was only fitting then, that the beginning of my biggest week as Sport Editor, the annual sporting extravaganza that is Varsity would begin at the very same venue. It’s funny how fate works itself out. The weekend itself was a pleasure to be a part of. At times it was close, at times it looked like we might actually relinquish our unblemished Varsity record, but in the end Team Warwick pulled through. In the midst of a wider debate this year surrounding the relevance of the competition and its importance to the student body, I noticed one thing above all else; for those involved in the weekend Varsity was the be all, end all.

Our sports teams were a little more focused, the Warwick student media circle a little more alert and those on the sidelines a little more vocal. Nothing beats watching it all unfold and trying to keep track of dozens of sports at once. Saturday afternoon saw me dashing to and fro for the cause. Up beyond Westwood to the Tennis Centre, back to the Boar Office and out onto the Varsity pitches to watch Ultimate Frisbee with a smile on my face for the most part and coffee in my left hand for good measure. Sitting in the Press Box at the Ricoh Arena for the finale with Warwick declared winners of the series felt like the end of a weirdly enjoyable ordeal. Journalism of any kind has never made me more tired or strained but at the same time has never felt more rewarding. That’s the end of my run and it’s been one hell of a ride.