Pink Derby day means more

 

My sporting highlight of the weekend? …. I did enjoy watching the Pumas beat the self-proclaimed wonders of the rugby world on Friday night, but at the risk of looking like I’m on the St Stithians payroll, it has to be the Pink Derby on Saturday.

I have to disclose that I got a personal invitation from the ebullient Annie Fyfe-Hitchings to go to Saints to watch the game, and that I confirmed for myself that you’d battle to find better food for the guests in the clubhouse than what they lay on there.

It was the 8^th staging of the Pink Derby – a collaboration between St Stithians and St John’s, promoting awareness of, and raising funds for, the scourge of breast cancer. I was at the 1^st one, I think – at St John’s – and the concept has really taken off since then. It was a production on Saturday of the type that Saints is well-known for, and it the house was packed.

St Stithians vs St John’s is a proper rugby derby – between close neighbouring schools who are alike in just about every way. Except for an important one – St John’s is the 2^nd oldest school in town; St Stithians was founded in 1953. It’s old school tradition vs the upstarts. That has added some spice to the contest, on the stands anyway, down the years.

On the day however it’s us, this year vs them, this year, and on paper St Stithians were heavily favoured. They duly won, but only after St John’s mounted a stirring second half comeback to turn a 22-0 halftime score into a one-point deficit. The hosts’ only second half points came from a last minute penalty to make the game safe.

It was a thriller, well worth the trip for me. And afterwards, while quaffing the great snacks up in the pavilion, I got to have a catch up with a number of old friends, some of whom I hadn’t seen for years. I’d hoped that would happen. In truth, that’s why I went there in the first place.

It was a great occasion, and a good game, on a day that meant more.