CUKC in the Year of Plague

It all started so well. On the evening of Saturday 29th February, 2020, after completing our ritual decapitation of Oxford (the fourteenth in a row), the CUKC squad voyaged back to Cambridge with the wind firmly in our sails. There were handshakes, and group hugs, and we drank vodka and coke from the Enoeda Cup (a filthy chalice if ever there was one; has it ever actually been cleaned?). We revelled in our victory. There was some talk of a novel virus in the air, but no heed was taken. It is hard to imagine such unhygienic decadence now.

There is no rest for the wicked. The following weekend our swashbuckling squad emerged from an expedition to the Central Region Championships in Chesterfield, again thronged with copious silverware — taking gold in both Men’s and Women’s Individual and Team Kumite events, among other glories. This time there were half-serious elbow bumps and plenty of hand-washing amid a celebratory roadside Burger King. But again the medals clinked merrily and little notice was taken of the news from Wuhan.

Buoyed by our bounty, I applied the next day for the Men’s Captaincy — and was ordained the following week, with a strong mandate to Get Oxford Done, to Level Up the club, and... wait, no, that’s the other bloke. Anyway, we all know what happened next. Since my inauguration I have been Captain of a ship that is near-perpetually stuck in the harbour; able to plan fantastical voyages to exotic locations but forbidden to raise the anchor. Here is how it went.

March, April and May were quiet. CUKC members retreated to family homes in all corners of the country (and, indeed, the globe) and resolved to wait out the storm. Remember those heady days? Even Zoom was new and exciting. You could talk to your grandad on it. You could pick a humorous background. You could even attempt to teach Gojushiho Sho via your iPad. Oh, the larks.

In June we emerged from our hibernation and were thrust into the summer heat. For twelve consecutive Sundays, Coldham’s Common was our dojo, and stray cats were our audience. And for twelve consecutive Sundays, the Sun shone brilliantly — proving that God is a karateka. But this was not training as usual. Our government overlords had imposed a ban on kiai, and a ban on kumite, and a ban on Kanku Dai (okay, that last one hasn’t happened yet, but just you wait and see). What is more, there were molehills to contend with, and rabbit droppings, and the searing heat, which at one point rendered our eminent Chief Instructor topless. Yet all things were well upon the grass.

And on the thirteenth Sunday, the heavens opened — but luckily this did not matter to us, for we the faithful had a solid roof over our heads. We were ensconced in Chesterton Methodist Church, in our new hexagonal home, for our first indoor training in many months. Again things were unusual: bare feet were disallowed, so a fiery debate raged over the optimal karate footwear (Vibram Fivefingers being the resounding winner, and receiving a certain 7th Dan’s lucrative endorsement later in the year). Of course there were no competitions to travel to and no courses to attend. Nevertheless, progress was being made, and by the beginning of Michaelmas the CUKC ship had properly set sail again.

For four weeks of Michaelmas term we had more people attending our classes than I’ve ever known. Though limited by space and thus forced to employ a pre-booking system, every class was sold out to maximum capacity, often with a long waiting list. I, along with my Women’s Captain counterpart Ms Danielle Ball, improvised a ‘kumite’ session on Tuesdays which involved an array of ladders, skipping ropes, foam sticks, and chairs that were recruited as makeshift sparring partners. We had had pre-term worries about potential low attendance, what with the disease and the remote new venues and the ban on physical contact. But we needn’t have fretted. There was to be no mutiny upon this ship. We had never been so popular.

Alas our maiden voyage was cut short, and the cruel winds of Covid once again blasted us ashore. Locked down for a second time in November, I retreated into bedroom Zoom gloom. Danielle however was unfazed, and ensured that CUKC continued to participate in the national effort both physically and financially: her online fitness classes in November raised £100 for Addenbrooke's Charitable Trust. We were allowed back upon deck in December, hosting several well-attended sessions as late as the 19th and even a small Kyu grading (Sensei Richard having been newly anointed a KUGB examiner). But again our freedom was short- lived. At the time of writing we are firmly back in port and will remain so for some time.

Thus, barring a miracle, I will have the undistinguished honour of being the first CUKC Men’s Captain in 15 years not to lead a victorious armada against Oxford; though I didn’t lead a losing one, either. (By the way, forget the Bill Gates conspiracy and the 5G masts and the Chinese bioweapons factory — we all know that Covid-19 was released by OUKC as a way to finally end their inglorious losing streak).

And yet I am proud of what we have achieved this year and how we have held CUKC together in difficult — and constantly fluctuating — circumstances. Very little of this is down to me, so I would like to acknowledge all those who have helped and supported the club throughout. In particular I am grateful to Richard, and Danielle, and most importantly our President, Alex. Though I am Captain of one galleon he is in command of the entire fleet, and has been an admirable admiral.

Let me speak finally, and vulgarly, of money. At a Committee meeting in June we prophesied glumly that our coffers would be empty by Christmas; not because of marauding pirates, but because of a lack of willing karateka, an inability to hold gradings or competitions or courses, and the closure of all Colleges (which in normal times provide us with free training venues). Instead we have roughly broken even. This is testament to the tireless work of those mentioned above as well as several others behind the scenes, but was also contingent on us being able to find cheap venues, and receiving our usual University funding grant. However, as yet we have no real guarantee against future storms. We have made an excellent start: thanks to OKA donations our Bob Poynton Memorial fund has raised well over £1000 already. But Covid has highlighted the vicissitude of fortune and the potential fickleness of funding bodies. We must continue to raise money and insure CUKC for the future. Please use the following link for any kind donations.

I will soon be disembarking the ship and joining the OKA ranks. Let us veterans, then, endeavour to keep the CUKC fleet weather-proof for the many years and voyages to come. For though it be dormant now, when that fleet is finally freed for good it will do a roaring — no, a kiai-ing — trade.

Chris Hamilton

CUKC Men’s Captain 2020-2021

17th January 2021