Size Matters

So far this half I’ve played several Field Game matches against the old boys, and they’ve all been great fun! Despite my pre-season concerns about not making a team, I played well enough in the early trial to avoid missing out. Moreover, I've scored a rouge and two goals already to help secure my position, not a bad return for your average bully player.

What is noticeable about the old boys is the very erratic quality of their performances. Some of the teams we face are superb. Others are awful. The inconsistency, it would seem, stems from a mismatch of their sides to our school teams. Since the beaks in charge of the fixtures can know little about the merits of each old boy side, they are forced to guess when it comes to pairing them off with appropriately talented school teams.

The result is that the 6^th and 7^th Fields have faced old boy sides capable of beating the 2nds or 3rds, whilst the better school teams have had to play sides your average house unit would beat.

This might not sound ideal, but in my opinion it makes for more entertainment. Much of sport’s attraction boils down to the suspense it generates, and so not having a clue about the strength of your opponents leads to a great deal of anticipation. Furthermore, it turns the games into exciting free for alls, since any attempt at pre-arranged tactics is futile.

Another curiosity is that one's first impression of an old boy side can be deceiving. A team composed mainly of uni students is bound to tire after twenty minutes, suffering the consequences of their non-stop partying. Sides with young professionals however, often gym freaks or marathon runners, will run all day. But how to tell the difference?.

After the matches there are beers laid on in the pavilion. This came as a surprise to me – would the school really supply alcohol to underage C blockers? But they do, and after an hour of running around they go straight to your head!

It makes me pity all the younger boys who can’t get involved. Rather than getting tipsy with 30 year olds, D, E and F blockers spend Saturday afternoons playing Non-Specs. This competition (the name of which is short for non-specialists), may not be as prestigious as League or Ties, but is still highly revered.

One characteristic that really marks it from the others though is the sight of D blockers playing alongside F blockers. In League and Ties the division of blocks to junior and senior competitions is F/E and D/C/B, but in this instance D blockers are bumped down with the lower boys. This may not sound like much of a big deal, but my first experience of the competition highlights how significant it can be:

Three years ago, as an F blocker new to the Field Game, I was ignorant of all its rules and jargon. Consequently, when approached by the Non-Specs captain of my house about the possibility of me playing on Saturday I placed all my trust in him.

When told I was in the team I said ‘great!’ When earmarked for a place in the bully, I said ‘nice one!’ And when informed that my exact position would be ‘post’ (because, as he said, he needed a ‘really skilful player’ there) I said ‘sure, wherever you need me!’

Oh how naive!

For unbeknown to me, the position of post is akin to being a human shield. When the bullies of both sides come together in the Field Game version of a scrum, the posts are in the middle of it taking the full impact of the shove.

Now, if you happen to be built like a rhino it's not much of a problem. But if, like my F block self, you are a weedy 5”3, then post is probably not your ideal position to play in.

Of course, I wasn't to know this, not until the actual game that is. Before the big day I boasted to all my friends about my selection for the team. I even rang up my mum and tried to impress her with references to the 'bully' and 'sneaking'. As we walked up to the pitches, I strutted ahead of the rest of my team, doing flick ups with the ball and multiple stepovers.

It was only as we were lining up, however, did the truth of the matter begin to become clear. For there, on the opposite side of me, in the exact same position of post, I laid eyes on what can only be described as a modern day version of Ajax, the Greek warrior. Six foot three, built like an ox, and with the outline of a beard he had probably shaved that morning, a gigantic D blocker stared down at me with angry, bloodshot eyes.

How I didn’t collapse on the spot I cannot say, but before I had the presence of mind to flee I was being dragged to the centre spot by my teammates for the opening bully of the match. With it the opposition put-in, I closed my eyes as the freak of nature bent down before me to wedge his mammoth shoulder into my exposed belly. A second later he led the shove from his teammates, causing me to groan in pain as they tried their best to shatter my rib cage.

Let's just say that every time that afternoon one of my teammates messed up to award the other side a bully, I wished on him a very slow and painful death.

Looking back, I think this episode demonstrates a couple of things. One - that you should never trust a glib D blocker, and two - that people’s bodies develop at different rates.

The second point is evident in the F blockers who arrive at Eton each year. Everyone may be thirteen years of age, but the intake is split roughly half and half between those who have hit puberty and those who haven’t, leading to wild variations in appearance.

Personally, I was on the pre-pubescent side and looked more like a ten year old than a teenager. On the other hand, a few of my peers resembled grown men. I remember in my first ever Maths div being shocked when a boy who I would have mistaken for a C blocker walked in and sat down next to me. He must have been at least six feet tall, and had a voice like Frankenstein.

Yet if I thought I was a baby face for my age, then I probably hadn't met some boys in my block. For next to them I resembled a giant, which made me wonder if they'd missed out prep school and come straight from nursery.

Being a shorty cannot be much fun. A lack of height will inevitably be commented upon in a competitive school environment. But things can change.

With everyone now in C block fully pubescent, it turns out that some of the dwarves in F block now resemble basketball players. Whilst at the same time, a few people who were relatively tall in first year, five foot seven for instance, haven’t grown an inch since their arrival, instead craning their necks for the past three years as everyone else has overtaken them. Brilliantly, a few of these boys were the first to jump on anyone smaller than them. Now all they have is a belly full of humble pie and a potent case of small man syndrome.

He who laughs last laughs loudest, as they say. Though at least when it comes to Field Game they can be assured of a position, that one reserved for ‘really skilful players’…