Dolphins Surface in Oxford

The Chaplain's football days are too few to record on the back of a stamp (for our youngest undergraduates I should explain that a stamp is a self-adhesive, small patch of material, decorated with the king's head and of monetary value, which allows one to send papers through the post). However, who would not be excited

Dolphins Team (for the second half) in Oxford on Saturday 17 May 2025

at the thought of the annual More-Fisher Cup, played by the football teams of the Oxford and Cambridge Chaplaincies? And after our 8-1 defeat to Oxford last year, it was for the Dolphins - Fisher House's own team - to rediscover our brilliance.

Gathered beneath low-lying clouds at Marston Road Sports Ground in Oxford, we had a wonderful start. In this Leonine Age, where all things Peruvian are to be celebrated, our own Mario of Peru scored the first goal within the opening minutes of the game. We were elated and we were never to be ahead again. With fewer substitues than the home team, our players had to work harder (and had already had the long journey of a drive to Oxfordshire that morning). The Oxford team made our end of the pitch their home, and, - despite the greatness of our goalkeeper, who stopped many a goal - by the end of the first half we were behind 4-1.

I cannot lie: the Dolphins were dispirited. At this rate, Oxford was destined to equal last year's score, if not beat it. We did not return to the pitch for the second half with noticeable enthusiasm. Yet, with the repositioning of our players and the introduction of some fresh blood, we had a new energy. And something quite wonderful happened. The closer reader of this blog knows already that we did not win but we discovered Oxford's end of the pitch, our goalkeeper maintained her record of saving goals, and our players lobbed some beautiful shots into the back of our friends' net. Marion, Will, Daniele, Radek and Tom - their names will live on as we scored again and again. When the whistle blew, Oxford had won, 6-5, but morally the victory was ours. NEVER had any team worked so hard and achieved so much in a second half (and, thank God, football is a game of two halves). Under Kristina and Mario's captaincies, truly, we had not lost.

Afterwards, something dreadful happened. Fr Damian and Alvea, the Oxford Chaplains, and the Catholic community of Oxford, welcomed us so warmly to Mass at the Chaplaincy and a garden party at Campion Hall, that we had to like and admire them. As the sun shone, you could almost imagine why some go to the Other Place.