Confessions and Epiphany of a School Anachist

So the XC Championships went pretty well. When I mean it went well, I mean the result of the results were pretty good, not that the event was that fantastic. We are the C and B div champions. So that means no school for tomorrow. Pretty good result of the results huh? It's only now appropriate to stop basking in goody-goody goodness and cheer and time to do some Red Shirt trashing.
One particular one had the leadership capabilties and social gravitas of a starved chimpanzee. It also helped that hed really did look like a starved chimpanzee screaming his small black hairy head off when making the comparison. But I can't risk naming the primate for the fear of being attacked by the starved monkey, I'm quite succulent by the way.
I was talking to Shrooms about who were real leaders up there. I was quite fixed on the idea that the Red Shirts fussed over their red shirts and they were born loosers out there. No one complained when the bimbo Power 98 FM announcer giggled a common faux pas, Victoria Secondary School, or tried to inform the organisers that they got the winning name of the champions wrong.
But of course the afternoon had its reedeming points that would make even Baghdad Bob or Mr Boh (by the way, where is that old man?)smile. The sight of seniors just banging away on the upturned pails just was a little nice. Nice to see so many old boys breaking away from their JC stands to come make noise with us. A nice mix of white and a little green and light blue uniforms bobbing away. And you see some senior that you thought would never end up at VJ and it's a little shock and jolt for you to work hard. Oh and of course the Victorian Anthem followed by the Spelling Cheer where every sweaty body just rushes in and jumps on the poor fellow in front of him. I of course tried to join in without really joining in. You can't figure out which part of the cheer they are in as the sound is drowned out by crushed squealing young ones, their lungs pressed for that short dozen seconds, squeezing their youth and innocence out of them as they push and shove. Only the 12 claps at the end can save such a sorrowful tainted tradition.
I tried to find the picture where Shi Ronghua gave an exhibit to the people at the sidelines what he had for lunch, but it seems like the army and SJI (organisers) are either pretty slow or IT-idiot bunch, or both on their website. So you just have to be contented with a few words to paint the grotesque picture of a mess.
The Mr Maran had to spoil my new mood when he commented that we had put up a good performance when cheering. I want no part when we claim any SYF Cheering Gold with honours.