Nat Locke: Formation marching, rally cries, long jump and passball. Why school carnivals were the pinnacle
With all the action kicking off in Paris this week, can I just say firstly, that I am absolutely here for it.
I’m about to become an expert in obscure sports like modern pentathlon and skeet shooting and I think that’s an excellent use of my time.
My deep and abiding love for sports carnivals is rooted in the athletics carnivals of my primary school era. I got right into them.
It was an innocent time, I might add. One of the most arduous events was the march out, where each faction would march in formation, chanting groundbreaking rally cries like “Left, left, left, right, left. Blue faction is the best”. Take that, Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders!
Obviously, when every kid in your faction had to participate, even the tiny, uncoordinated ones, you have to practise a lot. I don’t know how the teachers decided who would supervise marching practice, but I can’t imagine it was a coveted gig.
What it did do though was heighten our expectation for the big day.
After marching relentlessly around the school grounds in the lead up, we were practically in a frenzy by the time the carnival rolled around.
Most of our preparation on carnival eve centred around crepe paper, but mainly because face paint wasn’t readily available. The liberal application of coloured ribbons was also rampant. Yes, we were a wild bunch.
And just like the Paris festivities, there was a bit of action before the official proceedings began because we would do the jumping events a couple of days before.
This was exciting for me because I was definitely in the top three competitors in my faction, in my year group, so got to have a crack at the long jump.
Clearly the low-key nature of the long jump competition didn’t suit my thirst for adulation from a huge crowd.
It turns out I don’t perform unless there’s an assortment of mostly disinterested parents watching, and my fellow faction members continually reminding me that blue faction is indeed the best. No, I never won.
I performed solidly in the running races, though.
In my day, I had a decent turn of speed. Not enough to win, but enough for someone’s dad to grab me as I crossed the finish line and inform me that I had won a ribbon.
Mostly I came second to a girl named Cathy who who was actually from the year above me, but whose birthday was so late in the year that she was considered my age.
Once she moved on to high school, I figured I would finally have my blue ribbon moment, but a couple of considerably faster girls joined my class from another school, and instead of coming second, I was relegated to fourth. It was a harsh life lesson.
For some reason, being a part of the winning faction was the pinnacle of school achievement.
I did experience some glory when it came to the team games, though.
I don’t want to talk myself up too much, but I was the leader ball leader who captained the Castletown Primary School leader ball team to victory at the interschool athletics carnival. And you’re right. It’s hard to imagine a higher honour.
I was also an integral member of the pass ball team, which in case you’ve forgotten, was a team sport where eight girls passed a netball back and forth faster than all the other pass ball teams.
I know I’m making it sound easy, but it was actually a highly specialised skill which involved synchronising our movement so our passes could be executed as quickly as possible. It was one part netball, one part choreography.
Although it can’t have been that hard, because even I, with no perceptible sense of rhythm, could master it. Look, you have to take the victories wherever you can get them.
The boys’ version of pass ball was a game called spry ball, which involved a leader passing the ball to each of his team members, then everyone moving around one spot and repeating until everyone had had a turn at being leader.
I’m not sure why this was such an advanced sport that girls couldn’t master it, but presumably we were just too prone to tripping over our own feet to move from one spot to the next. Also, the boys used a basketball because it was manlier. It was a different time, obviously (insert eye roll here).
Of course, at the end of the day, all of our scores were added up, including for our formation marching, and a champion faction was declared.
For some reason, being a part of the winning faction was the pinnacle of school achievement.
Because I think we can all agree that being publicly recognised for your precision marching is about as good as life gets.
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