Competed by Jia Sharma
We’ve all heard the debates about what sports should be included in the Olympics, from the inclusion of dance to the exclusion of skateboarding. I’d like to add another sport to this important discourse: clubbing. I assure you that I am 100% serious and no one can convince me otherwise. While the extent of my sports knowledge is limited to Bend It Like Beckham and “Tennis Court” by Lorde, I feel fully qualified to speak on this issue.
I’ll start by saying that second year hit me hard. With my newfound maturity and experience, I considered clubbing simply too juvenile for the likes of myself, town riddled with first years and freshly eighteen-year-olds. Then, the flat-warming season ended, and I lost my weekly opportunity to dress up and tell strangers complete lies about myself. Suddenly, I was my first-year, freshly eighteen-year-old self again. I needed to go to town.
My father would say, “No Jia, you don’t need to go to town. You want to go to town.” I disagree. The little red devil on my shoulder told me that I needed to give town one more chance. And so I did. I gave it several, and it’s safe to say I left Courtenay Place with a new outlook on life. This little experiment has convinced me that all you strong soldiers that brave town every Saturday night deserve so much more recognition for your hard work and sacrifice. Specifically, recognition in the 2024 Olympic games.
Unlike dumb, easy sports like rugby and football, town is complex. Sure, Michael Phelps can get from one end of a pool to the other really really fast, but can he do it while holding hands with a chain of five girls, Long White in hand? I don’t think so.
Town as a sport is so multi-faceted that it is split into four categories:
The Fit:
Picking an outfit is my personal favourite part of going out. Just like sports, what you wear is important. Except instead of being sponsored by Nike or Adidas, I’m sponsored by Recycle Boutique. I love putting on my favourite boots and my newest thrift find. No jacket, of course, because even in the dead of winter there’s nothing I hate more than carrying the heavy weight of a big coat. I take comfort in the fact that I will soon be in a room surrounded by fifty sweaty people, and not taking a jacket is actually the smartest thing I can do.
Pre-gaming:
Preparation is key. Athletes need to train for months to prepare for the Olympic games. In the case of clubbing, ‘months’ mean the hours from approximately 8-11pm. A lot of thought must go into the perfect pre-game. You have to drink enough alcohol to have a fun time and avoid spending all your student loan on a $12 vodka Red Bull. The fit and the pre-game go hand in hand, and since you’ve decided to abandon your jacket, you have to drink enough to get your warm, cosy alcohol blanket and escape hypothermia on the walk to Courtenay Place. However, you can’t have too much alcohol so you don’t get let into the clubs or spend the whole night in the Dakota bathrooms. You must strike the perfect balance. It’s a science, really.
Dancing:
Anyone who says going to town is not a workout is lying. I love dancing to Katy Perry’s top 20 as much as the next person, but it is taxing on the body. And that’s not even taking into account all the different stages and platforms in the clubs. I have fallen off that pool table in Circus, and it’s not fun. I’ve never been great at parkour, so I admire anyone able to maintain their balance on those teeny tiny platforms at Red Square. You’re a true inspiration.
The Men:
For some strange, unknown reason, men seem to think singing ‘Low’ by Flo Rida in your face is effective flirting. It’s not. If you point at me while lip-syncing “The whole club was lookin' at her”, trust me, it’s not doing what you think it is. I’m sure many of you have faced your fair share of creeps while out. It’s rough, it really is, and a bad experience can make you avoid town forever. Luckily, town is a group sport. Do you know that scene in The Blind Side where Sandra Bullock is explaining how the offensive lineman protects the quarterback in American football? Mentally, I am a 6’2 offensive lineman instead of a 5’1 arts student, and I would protect my quarterback friends with my life.
I don’t think I’m asking for too much for town to be recognised as the true athletic endeavour that it is. I’ve simply gone through far too much for it not to be. Now that classes are starting up again, it’s the off-season for me, but I’ll be back on the field when the games start again next break.