Polo

When I first came to St Andrews last September, I was immediately thrown into an environment with a predominant social milieu that previously I had had zero contact with...posh people. Although the stereotype of St Andrews being entirely an enclave of Rah-types is completely ass, it's impossible not to encounter their influence in this small seaside town. Somehow, I've managed to fall into a weird, Twilight Zone style, space-between-spaces, kind of situation where I can flit between that world and my own meek, state-educated upbringing. On those occasions where our paths tend to interact, like at formal balls, I do still find it difficult though, to shake off the impression of being Jack Dawson, venturing out from steerage and up onto the First Class decks of the Titanic.


So when my new flatmate invited me to come along to her Charity Polo Tournament that the University Polo Club was organising, I was a little unenthusiastic to say the least. Even excusing the small matter of me not knowing anything about the sport and how it is played, or never even having drunk a glass of Pimm's before in my life, I instantly conjured that stereotypical mental picture in my head of the cast of Made In Chelsea, big hats, Range Rovers etc with me, sticking out like Mel Gibson at a screening of Schindler's List.


However, what convinced me to tag along was that the whole event was in aid of such a worthwhile cause, Help For Heroes, providing vital assistance for wounded and ex-servicemen/women, a cause that does not get nearly enough attention devoted to it in the corridors of Westminster as it really should. My conscience was cleared significantly by this.


Also, people who know me well understand that I've got an adventurous drive wired into me so I'm always willing to give new experiences a whirl. ("Kangaroo burgers? Fuck it, why not?") So, after a quick detour to the charity shops (sorry, vintage clothing stores) on South Street and emerging besuited in a snazzy Tweed jacket and bow tie, (bow ties are cool) I hit the playing fields.


I was stupid to have been worried about anything since my first ever polo tournament turned out to be one of the most fun, enjoyable spectator sports I've witnessed.


Upon arrival, an array of gazebos had been erected along the edge of the pitch, perfect for bringing along a hamper filled with Tesco's finest for a picnic. Even if you'd forgotten a blanket, there were several bales of hay to sit on, adding a rustic, quaint atmosphere to proceedings. Refreshments came courtesy of Rascals Bar, where I helped myself to several cool glasses of Pimm's that did not disappoint. Burgers and hot dogs were also readily available...om nom nom.

Although the Tweed Brigade was most definitely well represented at this event, I never felt for an instant that I'd wormed my way into some elitist snobfest. The conversations I had with the other people there and some of the Polo Club members were informative and relatable, only adding to the general air of being in the presence of good company today.


The entertainment was top dollar as well. Aside from just the sheer joy of hearing the sonorous tones of some of the commentators (the kind of, archaic, old-fashioned voices that one only receives from being brought up at an all-boys boarding school, followed by countless years of National Service), there was also a pipe band; uh, a bit of dubstep pumped through the loudspeakers; and best of all, a live performance from St Andrews' premier male acapella group The Other Guys who treated everyone to renditions of a Backstreet Boys mash-up, their 2011 viral hit, Royal Romance (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JAlnM7RUDcA) and excitingly, their forthcoming Katy Perry parody, St Andrews Gurls.

But what did I make of the actual equine part of today's proceedings? Fortunately, any dumbass like me could pick up the general rules of the game fairly quickly and before I knew it, I was shouting out PUNT IT! and CHUKKA! like a seasoned pro. Just the simple sight of watching the players gallop majestically across the field, thwacking a wee ball is more than enough to turn even the most cynical hack into a foaming uberfan. Oh yeah, and we totally kicked Edinburgh's ass in the varsity match. Yay us!


The only letdown was the gloriously miserable, oh-so-familiar, Scottish East Coast weather that left many a spectator frostbitten and with pointy icicle nipples (just me?). And as is usually the case, I didn't really feel the inkling to try and take up polo as a pastime afterwards. Being given the chance to punt a ball on a wooden model horse is certainly fun, but why do I get the impression that that simulation differs wildly from the reality of having a live animal nestled between your thighs, charging down the field with seven other players nearly crashing into your little horsey? For now at least, I'm content to stick with being a spectator of this sport.


All in all, the St Andrews Charity Polo Tournament was a smashing spectacle that did much to shatter my pre-existing mindset on the sport and showed off the best of what this little town can offer.

Avengers Assemble - Review

Okay, okay, now that the excitable squeals have subsided and I've recovered my jaw from the floor of the cinema - carefully dusting off the hairs and bits of popcorn - I've gathered my thoughts together to bring you my review of Marvel's unprecedented superhero mash-up.

And to cut a long-winded review short, it's good. Boy, is it good. More than that, as Bruce Almighty would say, it's GOOOOOOOOD. But let's backtrack a bit, shall we?

Assembling the Avengers on the big screen has been something of a labour of love for Marvel in the last decade, not to mention, the biggest gamble the comic book movie genre has ever witnessed. The concept of putting Iron Man, the Hulk, Captain America and Thor in one movie, with all their baggage and egos seemed like one of those things that seemed sure to induce geekgasms in nerds everywhere but yet, seemed like a pitch that wouldn't get any Hollywood suits turning their heads any time soon. Indeed, when an Avengers movie was first mooted, just after the first Iron Man jetted onto screens, most of the Avengers team hadn't even been introduced onscreen at that point. But I completely love the strategy that Marvel have adopted in the leadup to AA, a strategy that Marvel's chief rival DC would be wise to adopt if they ever want to get that Justice League of America movie off the ground. In a word, continuity. By introducing the principal players, one by one in their own movies to familiarise themselves with audiences and then, have interaction between these separate franchises to tease the Avengers concept and establish a shared cinematic universe. Hence, Samuel L. Jackson unexpectedly crashing the end of the first Iron Man film.

In doing so, Marvel have built up a surge of popular enthusiasm for this movie, belying its dense, often inaccessible comic book origins, just in time for its release. The proof of the pudding was evident earlier tonight when, arriving at the tiny St Andrews New Picture House, twenty minutes early for the film - I found the queue stretched outside and around the block. All I can say is, I felt really bad for anyone planning to watch Salmon Fishing In The Yemen tonight.

So, how does the final product match up? Well, "Marvel Avengers Assemble", to give it its full title is simply a barnstorming, endlessly fun ride that, for once in the comic book movie genre, actually feels like the experience of reading the source material happen on the big screen. All of the Avengers are given space to breathe and develop, preventing the movie from sliding into The Robert Downey Jr. Show. This is in large part due to the masterstroke hiring of Buffy/Dr Horrible wunderkind and nerd's Messiah, Joss Whedon as director and screenwriter, successfully toeing the line between epic fistfights, human drama, the best tooling up montages since Evil Dead 2 and of course, the Hulk taking down a steel snake of Brobdingnagian proportions.

There also a perfectly pitched level of funny in AA as well that was especially crowd-pleasing - largely stemming, unsurprisingly, from RDJ's zingers. The character who benefits most from this approach is pleasingly, the Hulk, finally getting to full-on smash, ensuring Mark Ruffalo's portrayal of Dr. Bruce Banner and his purple stretchy pants-wearing alter-ego was an undeniable audience favourite. Sam Jackson also gets a meatier role this go-around, getting to do more than handing Tony Stark paperwork as in his previous Marvel cameos.

As for criticisms, they're really the same as those expressed elsewhere. The score, including Soundgarden's first new song in about a decade, is a tad forgettable, with no identifiable hum-along theme akin to John Williams' Superman theme tune or Hans Zimmer's honking BRAP! BRAP!s on the Dark Knight franchise. Tom Hiddleston's Loki, again is a deliciously snarling villain (I think "You mewling quim!" is going to be my insult of choice for the foreseeable future) but unluckily is saddled with a shit McGuffin left over from "Captain America: The First Avenger".

Joss Whedon continues his penchant for [MINOR SPOILER ALERT] killing off fan-favourite characters and for someone with experience writing for powerful female characters, why is it only Scarlett Johansson's Black Widow who gets a look-in, while Nick Fury's second-in-command, Maria Hill's, played by Robin from "How I Met Your Mother", role is reduced to staring gravely at computer screens? There is also a worrying lack of Nathan Fillion for this Whedon joint.

But these are minor quibbles overshadowed by the dizzying thrill of seeing this supergang do their thang. "Avengers Assemble" could have come across as "Team America in Armour", but instead comes across as the perfect antidote to Hollywood's current approach to comic book movies in the wake of Christopher Nolan's peerless work on the Dark Knight trilogy. It was kind of ironic, in a way, that the trailer for Nolan's franchise-wrapup, The Dark Knight Rises was shown in front of The Avengers. This film wasn't trying in any way to mimic Nolan, Bale etc. Avengers is a bright, fantastical, sugar rush of a movie with just the right amount of self-awareness, humour and vim that will ensure assembling of audiences.

CONDENSED REVIEW: Nerdvana.

A song at midnight

Some synth-poppy goodness for the delectation of the insomniacs/essay all-nighters/just feeling lonely out there...

Howdy doody...

The eternal question on whether I would ever get around to chundering my opinions onto the Internet that no-one other than me was asking, has finally been answered.

You lucky people.

The blog is just really a chance for me to write about all the awesome, cool stuff that pop culture throws at me every day as well as general pieces on university life and major contemporary world-affecting issues, yeah, because, connected, Earth...change, you know? Respect.

All this and more, hopefully expressed intelligently and relatable enough for anyone not as arrogant, conceited and self-loathing as moi to appreciate.

I'll try and update the blog as often as I can, freak workloads permitting. I certainly don't want you guys waiting on tenderhooks in anticipation of my bullshit-mongering for too long. Positive feedback is mucho appreciated by my ego.

And so, just like bad sex and the third Lord of the Rings film, I can't seem to reach a climax, for this, my first ever blog entry.  I guess, in the words of Joe from Reservoir Dogs: let's get rambling, ramblers.



P.S. Yes, the name of the blog is a Great Gatsby reference. After all, what's life without Jay Gatsby, old sport?