St. Patrick’s Day: A Day Where The Grass Is Truly Greener
By Ellen Lundy
St. Patrick’s Day: A Day Where the Grass Is Truly Greener
March 17th. The one day a year where you will find a student awake for a 9am. For today, they will not be entering the hallowed halls of the Peter Froggatt Centre to pretend to partake in their morning lecture whilst playing Wordle.
On this day, the student is destined for greater things. There is no need for an alarm; the spirit of St. Patrick and the cacophony of tinned cans opening throughout the (holy)lands will awaken a spirit that lays dormant the other 364 days of the year.
For today, we celebrate. For today, we rise. For today, we commemorate the riddance of the snakes from the emerald isle in the only way St. Patrick would have wanted; with a green cowboy hat, a random county jersey that you borrowed from a friend and a pint of Guinness that you won’t really enjoy. The stakes are high, and the day is long. So, my friend, let me ask you one question; are you ready to accept the challenge?
The Great Migration to the Points
The pubs may open at 12 but it would be a rookie mistake to assume that you could appear at the doors of Points at 11.59am and expect to walk straight in. From 9am, the student has concluded the first round of celebrations and a line of green-clad warriors fuelled by vodka in a water bottle can be found marching down University Road.
Many will find futility in their mission as the wind and rain dampen their hopes of ever making it through the sacred green doors of the Points on this day. As panic sets in, the student realises that they must seek shelter elsewhere; but options are already limited. Laverys is full and Filthies (RIP) has a line longer than the peace wall.
The student will have entered fight or flight; pretend to know someone at the top of the queue or return home to watch an episode of Father Ted with a bottle of vodka and celebrate your nationality in a more civilised manner.
A Test of Perseverance
For those who survive this initial bloodbath, the future battles to come will make the day’s start seem like child’s play. Food is both a necessity and a liability – too much and you risk soberness, too little and you are one Baby Guinness away from an Irish goodbye. At times of such hardship, the student must remember their training – a Tesco meal deal shall always serve you well on your onwards journey.
The 4PM Power Nap: A Fatal Error
Unfortunately, not every student makes it. Sometimes the student who started out the day drinking the Kings Cup at 9am and feeling higher than life, will burn out quicker than a cigarette in the rain. Famous last words will be, “I’m going to go for a quick nap. I’ll meet you back at the Student’s Union for seven”. This will be the last known interaction with the student on March 17th. They will wake up at 12PM to a phone filled with unread messages, a half-eaten spice bag and a guttural sense of regret.
The Holylands: A Circle of Hell Dante Forgot to Write About
No discussion of St. Patrick’s Day would be complete without acknowledging the war zone that is the Holylands. It is a place where rules do not exist, bins become makeshift barricades and house parties spill onto the streets in a tsunami of Buckfast and broken dreams.
Here, the council’s desperate attempts to contain the chaos are as futile as a fresher saying, “I’m going to pace myself today.” Police stand by, watching with weary resignation as a man in a tricolour cape tries to crowd-surf on Carmel Street. Somewhere, a speaker blares ‘Tell Me Ma’ for the seventeenth time that hour.
By the time darkness falls, the Holylands have become a post-apocalyptic landscape of lost student IDs, crushed cans and the haunting echoes of someone yelling ‘sure, you wouldn’t be long getting frostbit’ into the void.
What Would St. Patrick Think?
As the night draws to a close, a collective reflection takes place. What would St. Patrick himself make of this day? Would he approve of the litres of Guinness consumed in his name? Would he be proud of the annual pilgrimage to the Points and beyond? Would he look upon the chaos of the Holylands and say, “Yes, this is exactly what I was trying to achieve with Christianity?”
The answer, of course, is no. But as every young Irish person will tell you, with a shrug and a half-empty pint in hand –
“Well, this is what St. Patrick would have wanted anyway.”
