A Very Informative Tour of the Athletics Complex

Photo by Kamryn Minors

Welcome everyone, and thank you for taking this tour of your Athletic Complex. Better get excited, because we’ve got tons of funs stops on the tour today. So, stretch out, take some deep breaths, maybe even do some jumping jacks (if you want to look like an idiot) because we’re taking the scenic route today.

I decided to take the scenic route, firstly to delay my workout, but also to enjoy the brisk fall air blowing up from the dykes. So everyone, please take one of these clothes pegs from the bag, and clamp it down on the bridge of your nose, to get the maximum amount of fresh air while minimizing the smell of cow manure. If you’re starting to feel like you can taste it, quit now, it’s not your day. Now that we’re strolling we’ll get started by trespassing through the grassy place on the east side of Raymond Field. If you’re not careful you make just walk right into the long jump pits. The tracks are usually in great condition, depending on which direction the wind is coming from. Eurus is on our side today, as he trapped the mounds of plastic leaves and autumn garbage against the fence with his west flowing breaths. The sand pits are messy and rugged, looking something like a guy in mid-Movember unsure if he really wants to commit, but wanting to see what he looks like with a moustache. On a positive note, this is the only sand in Wolfville you can stand on without the worries of sinking or having forty tipsy frosh trench around half naked and cover themselves in mud. Seriously, try mud-sliding, it’s more fun than reading.

Hope you had time to do some jumps because it’s due time to move on. You may want to avoid the abandoned soccer field, it’s where the Old Cemetery residents come to play. They say you can even hear them complain about the pitch quality if you listen to their moans – clearly the idiom “beggars can’t be choosers” doesn’t apply to ghosts. On the left we’ll pass what I believe is either a top-secret headquarters from a 1950’s Chicago mob boss, or a power plant from a similar era. The place is windowless, terrifying yet also very intriguing if you’re into scaling bricks walls to enter dangerous buildings. That’s a story for another time.

As we loop around the back of the complex you must not deny yourself the view from here. The dykes have a very honest feel of empty beauty, inhabitable and untouched by humans. Mother Nature is much more decorative than us. If you’re wondering about the chopped up logs stacked up to your left – death by Axemen. If you’re wondering about the painfully loud buzzing coming from the hockey rinks cooling system, don’t. The off switch is not in any public areas so you may have to do some independent research to shut that one down.

The aggravating hum does bring a cold intensity to the dressing room which you can see to your left as we walk in the bottom doors of the complex. No wonder hockey players are so loud, you can’t even hear yourself think in here. If you’re bold enough to poke your nose into one those rooms, you’ll get a hefty whiff of the sweetest smell – victory of the Summer Street Stallions in the last game. Nothing is more appealing than the used hockey gear and Dry Ice combo. As we get closer to the rink, you’ll note that the buzzing seems to die down, especially past the skate sharpening area. When we pass the dented red nets, you can run your hand down their sides and feel the disappointing ding which warped their shape. Looking at this empty rink is very intimidating, and I would hate to play our hockey team at home. No joke, there are over 25 giant red A’s smothering the cavernous ceiling. At this point I’m not sure if the A stands for Acadia or Arrogance.

Moving on from the rink, we head towards the turf field. I hate the walkway from the front entrance to the exterior. It feels like a concrete desert, as weak currents combine with aged leaves to generate the only noise of the corridor. I still can’t decide what is more unnerving: the six larger than life posters screwed to each wall, each sporting their perfectly timed vinegar faces; or the one poster of Shaffy, off the wall and sloping over a picnic table, looking like he did while playing for DAL during last week’s playoffs. Regardless, time for a new face. Hopefully with the future renovations, we can find a better use of this phony patio-area.

As my feet grow weary, I realize that walking around mindlessly can also be a workout. I won’t blame you if you skip your workout, as I’m going to skip mine. If you still have some steam, you may want to check out the squash courts. That hole in the wall is about fifteen feet past the varsity gym, but is usually easier to spot by the long line of high-socked, visor wearing squash enthusiasts who refuse to let anyone else have a turn with their space. If you don’t see them at first glance, it is because they don’t exist. I have never seen a soul in those courts. This leads me to a great place to end my very informative tour. Go have fun, hit a squash ball at your friends. It’s always enjoyable. You can find me down there working on my game if you’re looking to continue the tour.

Sam Gillis

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