Following on from last week’s look at alcohol’s place in sport, and in the wake of the AU Ball, I found myself questioning why it is that we drink to the point vomiting, blackouts, shameful pulls and even hospital.
The AU Ball it right up there with the Carol as the highlight of the AU social calendar. The often scruffy rabble of sportsmen and women scrub themselves up, don dinner jackets and ball gowns and descend upon a fairly nice hotel for the awarding of colours. Sounds civilized, doesn’t it?
However, for what should be a glamorous and memorable occasion is not for most. This isn’t because it’s not a great event, but because of the copious amounts of grog imbibed. I certainly can’t say I’m not guilty of this – I was slurring my words on the Tube on the way there, and my last memory (before American Fried Chicken post Zoo) is of throwing tomatoes and mozzarella everywhere.
So when I woke on Thursday morning, I inevitably asked myself why I had paid £50 for the privilege of a meal I certainly don’t remember and probably didn’t even eat. It’s something I wonder most Thursday mornings as I go through the receipts in my wallet (Zoo Bar is rather appropriately listed as Venom on the statements), my sent messages and Hamdi’s photos, but this time it was different, given the increased financial aspect.
So, in a manner you would probably only get at somewhere like LSE, lets perform a cost-benefit analysis of the AU Ball:
Costs: £50 for ticket; Dress/Tux; Dry cleaning; 2-day hangover
Benefits: Legendary night of debauchery, shenanigans, banter, lash and minge; stories that will live on; a nice meal
It may appear from this that it is a simple case of costs outweighing the benefits. All in all, the AU ball can cost hundreds of pounds just for one night. However, ask anyone who has ever been to an AU ball and they will tell you that it is worth every penny, in spite of the complete lack of memories, empty wallets and vomit covered clothes/rooms/girlfriends. What matters most it that you had an absolutely epic tour, the time of your life, and can take away tales that those who weren’t there can never be a part of.
As a species, we are social creatures, and have a natural urge to be a part of something. That’s something that justifies the cost, being there, feeling a part of it, avoiding the ‘fear of missing out’ – all things you cant put a price on. To quote Mastercard: Ticket – £50. Dinner Jacket – £70. Cleaning bill – £30. Being there when Laurence Koo was found passed out on the 4th floor of the hotel across the road to the one the AU ball was in – priceless.
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