No Doubt The Redmen Are More Golden Than Any Gael

After an extremely long, stressful and tiring week of midterms, papers and assignments, McGill students had this year’s “Fill the Arena” Redmen hockey game to look forward to.  In fact, the only thing that kept me moderately sane during the last week was knowing that come Saturday night, I would be decked out in my red apparel, nestled in between close friends on a cold bench, delicious beer in one hand, hot dog in the other, cheering on one of our school’s most accomplished varsity teams as they take on our second most despised rivalry, Queen’s University.

As with the majority of sporting events at McGill, I attended this weekend’s hockey game not to engage as a spectator to Canada’s favorite sport, but to take part in the social event that is a hockey game at McGill.  By the time my friends and I had our trekked our way up to McConnell arena at around 6:45, the stands were already packed with face-painted members of Red Thunder and other McGill fans eagerly awaiting the start of the game, and the Redmen were warming up on the ice, accompanied by the loud cheers of those who, I assume, partook in the pre-game festivities at BDP.  

By the time the first puck dropped, McGill fans were as rowdy as Habs fans during last May’s play-off riot on St. Catherines.  Some fans were already on their feet, faces pressed against the glass, cheering on the Redmen players as they warmed up and living up to the reputation of McGill fans as being the most boisterous.  Any Queen’s fans, which appeared to be a very small group of players’ parents and grandparents, were forced to endure a string of loud and persistent chants and rants in favor of the Redmen. 

The Redmen scored their first goal (of seven) five minutes into the first period.  Fans arriving late to the game were somewhat confused as they entered an arena of screaming and standing fans.  Realizing that the Redmen had just scored, some fans were so caught off guard by excitement that they dropped their drinks to join in on the cheering.  One fan in particular, upon realizing that the first goal had been scored, watched in despair as her hot dog fell to the ground.  She made the right decision in leaving it there and joining the red sea of McGill fans in the stands.

The Redmen scored two more goals during the first period.  With each goal scored, McGill fans grew more rowdy, excited and spirited.  I almost felt bad for the parents and fans on the Queen’s side of the arena as fans proceeded to erupt in cheers whenever a Redmen player so much as made a successful pass to another player.  I did not feel bad, however, because only those foolish enough would attend a McGill home hockey game with the expectation of being able to sit back and relax, while watching their son get crushed by the Redmen. 

The second period would have been tragic to witness had I been cheering for Queen’s.  After scoring four more goals, the Redmen were dominating 7-0 and a comeback from Queen’s seemed very unlikely.  It wasn’t until the third period that the Queen’s team was able to squeeze in their only goal, but that was it.  The better University, I mean team, remained on top for the entire duration of the game, reminding Queen’s of our superiority not only as a hockey team but also as a school.  McGill students have a tendency to channel their McGill pride through their school spirit at sporting events, and this game was no exception.  Marlet Girl is expecting big things from this year’s Redmen hockey team.  Good job, boys!

Put a Little "Boot" in Your Life

After last weekend's four-day food binge, more commonly known as Thanksgiving, I returned back to classes feeling a few pounds heavier.  They say that you are what you eat, and after a few too many slices of pumpkin pie I was beginning to worry that without any immediate action I was going to start resembling a pumpkin.  As we all know, returning home for Thanksgiving means that you are going to be consuming at least twice the amount of food you would on your student budget at university.
As per usual, I ate myself into unconsciousness three of the four nights I was home.  Some people would call this a food coma, a state wherein you have consumed so much food you literally cannot do anything but sit on the couch and watch television. As a result of the three such food comas over the Thanksgiving weekend, my first priority upon returning to school was hitting the gym and ridding my body of the pounds of sugar, butter and stuffing I had consumed over the last four days.


When I returned Monday evening however, the gym was closed so my plans were postponed until the next morning. Tuesday, after a decent workout, I left the gym still feeling bloated and in danger of rolling back down the hill to my apartment.  It was then that I decided activity slightly more rigorous and challenging than forty-five minutes on the treadmill and some sit-ups was needed.  It was time for Boot Camp.

Boot Camp classes at McGill are offered every Wednesday night in the Aerobics room from 6:00 to 6:55 pm. Part of the Pay-As-You-Go fitness program, the classes are open to all McGill students.  Accompanied by a friend, who was also suffering from post-Thanksgiving pumpkin shape syndrome, I arrived right before the class started. The room was packed full of girls all with a wide variety of equipment set up in front of them. After quickly assembling our own stations, that included exercise balls, weights, resistance bands and aerobic steps, the class got started.

We began with a standard warm-up of lunges, punches, and stretches after which things started speeding up.  During the basic aerobic routines however it became very clear that the class was overbooked for the evening.  Apparently I wasn't the only one hoping to sweat off a little excess turkey.  That so many people were there, however, made it difficult to fully execute some of the kicks and cross-body punches for fear of knocking out the brunette beside me.

In spite of the lack of space, the class definitely got me sweating.  In fact I was sweating so much I was excessively thankful that no cute boys were there to see me, the sweating pumpkin, kicking, punching and doing obscure abdominal exercises on a giant purple bouncy ball. 

Notwithstanding the balanced combination of cardio and muscle toning exercises, which overall provided a reasonable workout, I don't think that Martlet Girl will be returning to Boot Camp anytime soon.  I was under the impression from the name of the class that I would be under the supervision of some muscular and intimidating army officer, breathing down my neck demanding that I work harder and faster.  This Boot Camp class, however, turned out to be more like an aerobic dance class that incorporated exercises on the ground, on the purple bouncy ball and with weights, under the direction of a fellow student.  I cannot deny that it was enjoyable, however, and a great way to satisfy my daily need for exercise and time with a friend, but I believe less chance of injuring myself on a treadmill than in a congested room of girls, large bouncy balls, a variety of weights and limbs flailing left, right and centre.