Duffer's Dinner

The Blues have been awarded and the athletic giants of 1969 have retired momentarily to exercise the cerebellum in a home run effort for finals.

The tumult and the shouting has died, the grandstands are empty but strangely that green and yellow building just past the Rankin Brown echoes to the thud of heavy feet.

There are still people around the campus who choose to mix activity with academic performance who feel better because they leap around a bit and who still seem to pass finals. But what about the 70 per cent. of the university who do not take any form of physical exercise?

Not long ago a prominent member of the university suggested that as well as a Blues Dinner, there should be an annual Duffer's Dinner. This function would cater for that large group of us who are always the also rans, the never rans or the cannot runs.

At a duffer's dinner, plum duff would be served of course and "greens" would be awarded for athletic anonymity. The coveted pond-scrum "green", for consistent failure to land on the trampoline after bouncing up, or for failure to strike the shuttle after 3924 attempts, would be awarded after lengthy deliberations by the "Greens" Panel. Naturally there would be grades of "Green" for different levels on non-skill; for example green at the gills, green awarded to drop-out at the drinking horn; sea-figreen for consistent failure to return to the surface in swimming classes and vegetable green, snooker green, grey-green and blue-green, all come to mind.

If you feel fat, haggard, tired, apathetic or decidedly lethargic, visit the gymnasium and consult the staff about "greens". Join a class and agitate the cardiac muscle before it is too late. Give your heart a bonus and treat it to some exercise.

If you are one of those people who cannot jump out of the way of your own shadow, need a step-ladder to climb over a box horse or cannot run out of sight in a week you will be a strong contender for the Duffer's Dinner.

The Physical Welfare staff reserves the right to nominate duffers from their numerous classes for beginners which are still being conducted in the gymnasium) and they also ask that they be allowed to undertake the formidable task of administering large quantities of vigorous refreshment and enjoyment to recumbent or somnolent forms.

They can do this in various ways which all lead to happiness! It is interesting to note that there is a growing body of opinion which claims that happiness is relaxing after a vigorous game (won of course).

If your problem is soggy headedness, induced by excessive inactivity, join a refreshment class at the gymnasium and delay the inevitable onset of fatigue. Refresh the brain with increased supplies of oxygenated blood and return to the library feeling better and able to work for longer periods. Vigorous exercise can be as refreshing as a cool beer and incidentally, that cool beer tastes best after vigorous exercise.

So change the scene and change the mood by coming to the Gymnasium. The staff there are prone to offering free unsolicited advise but they also offer free beginners classes in trampolining, golf, badminton, dance, and fitness and you can still participate in intramural games at lunchtimes. No cool beer to follow, only iced orange and maybe some plum duff.

Sportsman of Year:
Kember Does It Again

Vic law student Gerald Kember, who has previously won the trophy in 1967, won it again this year from a field of notable Vic sporting personalities—Ollie Gilbert (rowing), Phil Rear (athletics). Rod Barltrop (golf) and George Stratigopoulous (fencing).

Kember has an outstanding sports record being a Vic blue in rugby since 1964, a cricket blue for several years, and an NZU blue in both sports. He was also in the All Black team which toured the British Isles in 1967 and was this year a reserve for the test against the Welsh.

About 130 Vic sports representatives and friends were treated to an entertaining night last Saturday at the Blues Dinner.

Archie Sievwright, the oldest surviving Vic blue, who gained his blue for the mile walk in 1914 and was awarded it in 1915, presented the blues certificates to the 54 odd Vic sportsmen and sportswomen who had been awarded blues.

The guest speaker was Major Bill Dyson of the Rothman's Sports Foundation. Besides being an NZU blue for waterpolo and playing 182 games for NZ Bill also spent 30 years in the army and is now the National Waterpolo Coach for Rothmans.

He pointed out that New Zealanders as a people were the worst offenders in the world, in his experience, at criticising sports administrators and sport in New Zealand was suffering because of this.

Alan Laidler, director of Vic's Physical Welfare Service, gave a very witty speech with many pungent, telling comments, before presenting the Sportsman of the Year Trophy.

One important point made in his speech was that sports facilities at Victoria are at present inadequate to cope with the booming student roll and something practical needs to be done about this.

Dry Horrors

I'm standing in the great hall of the Student Union Building at Dunedin and what a magnificent sight is before me. What a colourful cavalcade of costumes and neck scarves of a multitude of hues.

And, right in front of me, standing below the sacrificial benches on the stage, is a vast congregation, waiting with excited, yet patient, anticipation for the ceremony to begin.

The initiates are looking towards a white-coated figure whose vestments are in stark contrast with the almost universal, hooded habits of the congregation.

Now, one can see light filtering down from the fluorescent tubing and shining on the young uplifted faces. A most moving spectacle.

... And while we are waiting for the ceremony proper to begin, individuals are leaving the great hall at intervals to seek spiritual relief in the private ante chambers.

Yes ... I think ... yes! And now they're ready!

The principal white-gowned figure has raised his hand for silence. He is moving between the sacrificial benches, above which are hung simple containers of many coloured liquid. His voice is blurred. Blurred. I suspect, with a sense of pageanty—and spirit.

"... and on by left, with 5 years of drinking, two blues and three convictions ... "

As he finishes speaking the most important part of the traditional libatory ceremony is about to begin.

I can see all the initiates moving their heads quite near to their chalices which have been filled with the customary amber fluid. This is a sight that very few of us here today will be able to forget. The gathering is hushed. Silence ...

"Hands on the bar! Blow your froth ... Drink!"

There is a sudden flurry of activity. The initiates are lifting the chalices to their mouths and attempting to impipe the amber draught as quickly as possible now the congregation are chanting traditional responses—

"Spillage! Spillage! Re-Drink! Re-Drink!"

The initiates are completing the ritual, gaining it appears, as much by skin absorption and beard osmosis, as by direct libation ... I can't quite see (funny) ... but, they appear to have finished. Yes! I think they have.

Apparently the team on the left performed the rite quickest, and is therefore the winner.

Oh! And while the winning initiates are being congratulated, one member of the opposing team is being assisted to a private ante-chamber ... pardon? Oh ... I've just been informed that in the excitement during his part of the ritual, he neglected to open his mouth.

There is trendous activity around the benches and the sounds of merriment and festivity echo around the hall.... Five hours later: "Would you mind moving along Sir? You cannot sleep in the gutter."