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Showing posts with label #olympics. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #olympics. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Annual Sport's Day Mount Abu Continued

Annual Sports Day Mount Abu Continued


Brother Ward with the '83 batch of boys


The batch of 83 after a lapse of 25 years


An unfortunate snag the flag got stuck at half-mast

The Principal Christanand Vase's closing speech

St.Joseph's with Cock House shield

Gymnastic Team Drill

Cliffy Dragwidge the school Anchor drummer
Cliffy Dragwidge, the school anchor drummer

The mixed bag of Ex-students

Batch of 83
Batch of 83

Batch of 83

St.Joseph's Cock House Winners


Prize Distribution

Mohan School's Chief Announcer

Stick Drill

Ivo the Anchor Man of the Show

Umbrella Drill


Tug of War

The batch of 83 at the back

Brother Ward awarding prizes

St Mary's High School Sports day
St Mary's High School Sports Day 

The Main Building

This year I reached the sports venue late as the march past had finished, and no band accompanied the marchers like in previous years. Last year the army Sikh regiment had sent their bagpipers to play for the school march past. I’m glad the school used its own resources and did not spend thousands on pomp and show. Innovations by the school organization this year were commendable. The school recognizes the efforts of students who excel. This year the students were given certificates and also garlanded with either the bronze, silver or gold-plated medals, just like in the Olympics. Drill displays by the various classes received thunderous applause from the parents. The track and field events and the relays had the parents going gaga, snapping their own kids with their latest hi-tech digital cameras. To my surprise, some parents who never go to boarding school sports days found the boy's displays dull. I casually asked some whiners why they were here, to which they replied: “Oh we pick up our son after the meet so we can rush off with him for his holidays”. I felt like punching these guys but refrained, and only retorted, “I’m sure it will disappoint your son with you. After all, he’s been through to prove himself on the field so that you, as a parent, could compliment him.”

This year, there was a big reunion of ex-students from the 1983 batch, marking their 25th anniversary since leaving school. It's expected to be the best event unless the 1984 batch can top it next year.. In my brief conversation with some of them, we talked about various topics, including bygone days. Yep! We were like a bunch of old fogies remembering old teachers and brothers who were our mentors. The boys told me that they, along with some of their wives and kids, had made it to the top of Plummy. Imagine over thirty-odd climbers atop the hill! Whew! It must have been exhilarating for all the thick-set and paunchy guys. It must have been exciting for this reunion of schoolmates to see each other after a lapse of 25 years.

Man of Man imagine former classmates now grown men seizing each other; some pretty bald, others grossly overweight and maybe just a few in pretty good shape. The victory lap put on by them was just a trot as probably Plummy had drained them of all their reserve strength the previous day. My hats off to these guys they were a fabulous bunch; and they had come with positive vibes. There were quite a few other ex-students from different years also present for the sports day.
In tote the meeting went off with a bang, no there were no fireworks like those of the Olympics. The most memorable part was when we sang the school anthem and the National Anthem with wholeheartedness and fervour.







Thursday, August 21, 2008

SPORTS DAY [ 29th SEPTEMBER,2008 ] ST.MARY'S MOUNT ABU

 ST.MARY'S MOUNT ABU


Bruno, one of the school dogs

Clicked Plummy on the way to school

The field is prepared for sports rehearsal

11 feet yet to go, Lower Kodra Dam


What a day.

 Drove up the winding, misty road to school this afternoon. Fog everywhere, water on my lashes, hair wet with spray. By the time I crossed the chapel gates, I was already drowning in memories. Feels like yesterday.

 I can still see myself sneaking out, bunking limits, dodging that dreaded one-way ticket home. Once skipped lunch, ran like a madman to the lake for Bird of Paradise eggs. Brother Keane caught me on the wall behind the bogs. Thought I was dead. Couldn’t even talk, so I pulled the two eggs out of my mouth and showed him. He just shook his head and waved me off. Another ticket earned, never crashed. Lucky me.

 Met Mr James at the refectory. Discussed the poor monsoon. Water supply has already dwindled to once every three days, two hours only. Two baths a week—Thursday, Sunday. Three minutes flat. Funny thing, those quick scrubs were heaven. Came out brand new. Some lads even tried sneaking in extras. Mad times.

 Walked to the primary field—servants were busy marking lanes, fixing everything for tomorrow. Sports Day. Anticipation already fills the air.

 September always brings it—the Concert one day, Sports Day the next. Our own Olympics, only louder, crazier, better. The thrill of winning Cock House, the pride, the sweat, the noise. Nothing like it.

 And the relay… no outsider has ever beaten us. Not once. I’d like to see an Olympian try on our soil.

 Snapped a few photos. Looking at them now, they’re more than just pictures. Their voices. Shouts, whistles, drums, the entire school roaring.

 Do you remember? The butterflies before your race? The mad rush down the track? That mix of exhaustion and glory at the finish line? Close your eyes—you’ll hear it.

 Sports Day was never just about running. It was about us. About belonging. About spirit. And standing here today, I feel it all over again.