Boxing Day Matches

Before the age of the astro, do you remember Boxing Day matches on grass?  In the days before ACHC, when I played with Chalfont St Peter, there was traditionally a match on Boxing Day down at Chalfont Park, usually against either Amersham or Gerrards Cross.  It used to bring out all sorts: die hards; fitness freaks  who had had too much turkey and christmas pudding the day before; students back from college who had endured a couple of days at home with their embarassing families (I make a point of embarassing my boys whenever I can); and neer-do-wells who just fancied a bit of hockey between bouts of excess.

We arrived after lunch, starting off with a pre-match whisky, and someone usually brought a bottle of brandy for half-time.  Generally, we played on the near pitch, so as to preserve the (1st Team) far pitch and reduce the groundsman's irritation with the idiots churning up the ground.  On a number of occasions I believe our President Sam volunteered himself as goalie, on occasions playing in what looked like old cricket leg guards, and wicket-keeper gloves, and sometimes even disdaining a helmet.  It has to be said, the ball was not hit quite as hard as modern sticks allow, no kevlar, or exotic stick shapes, and stick reinforcement was limited to taping the logo back on your stick.  Still, some of those shots still fairly fizzed through the air when teed up on a divot: goalies knew when they'd saved a shot, and defenders nursed bruises from hits on their shins through their bamboo shin pads.  Sticks were held vertically and there was no need for rules on edge hitting, after all, you try a reverse hit edge shot on a bumpy grass pitch and see where the ball goes.  Matches were as competitive as the massive over-eating the day before and festive clothing would allow, and after sluicing the mud away in a hot shower, everyone adjourned to the bar.

Participants returned to their families after some beer, and frequently some singing, usually willingly, but at least reinvigorated and refreshed.  If you remember all this, you must be a Vintager, in which case you enjoy a similar approach every Saturday, just without the mud!