The Rise of Team Oxford - Newark 2018

Well I certainly made up my photo quota. After only taking 129 at Sherwood, I have now gone through about 1178 photos from the Newark show. Big thanks to Malcolm Butler and Matt Holmes, who took photos on my camera while I was fighting.  

The setting for this show was Newark Castle, famously known for being the castle where the very unpopular King John shat himself to death. You have to be a pretty miserable excuse for a king for the English to consider a French king to be a better option and your public image does not improve by having you die on a medieval toilet. After that, in 1216, John's nine-year-old son became King Henry III and his regent, Sir William Marshal, helped him to regain control and restore order to the kingdom.

For our show, we were enacting the retaking of Newark Castle, by the king, after it had been given to Robert de Gaugi for safe keeping during the conflicts with the barons. For each of the three days of the show, we would have a few show clashes and then a competitive fight between the two sides, after which win-or-lose, de Gaugi would surrender the castle to the king. Following that, we would have a tournament. Since it was a later period show, we had knights in full kit - full mail coats, layers of padding, and a giant bucket helmet that greatly reduced their vision and hearing ability - just the type of person you want with a massive sword. The tournaments were great fun, the battle of supremacy between Oxford, Gower, Shrewsbury, and Lincoln consisted of men-at-arms fights, circle of honours, knights clash, and then the grand melee. We kept the same teams each day so we really got to bond with our teams - more on that later. 

Katya's and my plan had been to sleep in the undercroft of the castle. With its beautiful carved arches, the shields on the wall, and the light filtering between a few narrow window, it seemed like the most perfect and atmospheric place to sleep.

One problem.

The fluorescent lights in the room do not turn off. Consequently, I got very little sleep, but at least we had to be up early next morning to make breakfast anyways. Katya and myself, wearing the official Canadian uniform of matching flannel pjs, made pancakes with maple syrup for ØC and a few other stragglers. After breakfast, Jordan, Katya, and I moved into the Mercian group tent. Tom was the only Merican in the place so there was plenty of room for a few ØC refugees. 

All of the trainings were great. There were plenty of people I hadn't really fought against before and since there weren't a lot of ØC fighters along we really got to work with other people as well. On one of the exercises, I even took command of the line! We got massacred but it was a good learning experience. My 'no bruises before the wedding' policy has not been working very well, or at least the rest of Regia has not gotten the memo. 

For this show Jordan had decided to catch leprosy. Through the creative use of a PVA glue to create pealing skin, a crutch, juggling balls, and a simultaneously pathetic and ornery demeanour he quickly became a crowd favourite. He would constantly try to get near to the king or be involved with the tournament and was shooed away by anyone with a weapon or a large enough stick. So now instead of calling "wimples off" when our show was over, we started referring to the end of the day as the time to "peel the leper" since Jordan let me pull the glue off his face. He may have lost a few eyebrow hairs as well but that can't be helped. The leper also taught me how to juggle! Well, partially, I can do one 'juggle' at a time. Sometimes. However, lepers are very encouraging teachers, so he did say I was catching on very quickly.

There were a lot of kids at this show, and they were well coordinated. They had all organized bringing NERF guns and so there was a massive ongoing war during the evening. It didn't take much convincing for me to join in. Children are surprisingly compliant when you use them at meat shields. A few more of the adults joined in and we played Capture the Flag and Zombies. Many were killed and Newark will be finding NERF darts around the grounds for a while. 

There are some nights where the world seems perfect. Our last night in Newark started normally, meaning it started at a pub. I had been texting dad and he said to buy a round on him, which instantly made him the most popular person in Regia without even being in the country. It also caused a level of confusion since people thought he must have been in the pub with us, which lead some to assume that Will Vallance was my dad, mainly because the age gap was close. Despite the later clarification, Will is now known as my British father.

We walked back to the castle and since ØC’s group shelter had been abruptly taken down by the wind, and we couldn't be asked to set it up again, we hung around the Hwitmearum wic. Stu is an amazing story teller and many tales of past Regia triumphs and more amusing failures were shared around the fire. We had a go on the slack-line that was set up, since that's the perfect activity to try after a few pints. As the sun set behind the castle, the singing started up. Pirate shanties and Disney songs abounded until we were told to keep it down. However, rather than going to bed, I had obtained the literal keys to the castle- more specifically, the undercroft where we had spent the first night. A less than ideal place to sleep became the perfect place to spend an evening of singing, drinking, and even eating some pickled watermelon. We had tried to bring a firebox in with us, but as the chamber began to fill up with smoke, we decided against it. As the night, and then the early morning wore on, only Team Oxford remained conscious. Stu, Tim, Tom and myself continued our late night strategy session until 5:30am. 

The following morning, I was the only member of Team Oxford conscious and lucid enough to attend the morning's training. Tom and Stu had both temporarily resurrected and then collapsed again rather quickly. However, in the afternoon we were all out there in all our glory. Every time Stu, our valiant Knight Sir Robert de Vere of Oxfordshire, took to the field the audience were treated to our rousing cries of "He's drunk! He's corney! He'll beat you in the tourney! Robert de Vere! Robert de Vere!" along with many melodic calls of "Oxfordshire, Oxfordshire, Oxfordshiiiiiireeee!!!" The energy was enough to make me consider becoming a football hooligan. I managed to get second place in the man-at-arms circle of honour, winning against a few talented fighters before being defeated by Tom. We were both Team Oxford, so that was cause for yet another round of cheering. "Oxfordshire!" We had far too much fun with the tournament. It was wonderful to watch the different knights, marshals, and peasants becoming characters. The peasants were throwing fruit from the sidelines, the marshals were telling everyone off, and the knights were fully embracing their roles as drunken show-offs, leading a band of miscreants, or cheating sore-losers. 

As part of this, our team decided to have a brawl with the men of Sir Gregory de Braose of Bamburgh and the Gower. After Tim and Greg's fight, Greg decided to cheat and take a swing at Tim after he had surrendered. This broke out into an all out line brawl where Katya and I faced off. I 'punched' her in the face, she 'staggered' back, and completely rugby tackled me. We grappled on the ground until the king's man pulled us a part. We took a breather but everyone else was still fighting so we went in for round two. It was amazing. It might be the Canadian in me, but it's not a real sport if there aren't brawls every now and again. 

That brawl is a renaissance painting in the making. My lovely punch is in the top right corner. This weekend was absolutely phenomenal. I will have the "Oxfordshire" chant stuck my head for ages. 

In honour of my team, I have made sure to include every Oxford comma.