Fortune favours the Bold
You are running as fast as you can. Your shirt is soaked with sweat, your mouth is dry, and as you watch, another police jeep rounds the corner. There's a dull thud behind you as a neighbour succumbs to a police baton. No, you're not in South Central Los Angeles. On the contrary, you're running down towards the Liberty Cinema, weaving in and out of the morning traffic. You 've spent the morning in every girls'school in Colombo. You'll probably be spending the evening in one of its finer remand cells.
For those of you who have never experienced it, trucking is truly a phenomenal experience. Having originated during the very early years of the match, it is possibly one of the staunchest and most fiercely guarded traditions that surround the Battle of the Blues. Sadly, it became popular too soon, and many other schools also adopted the tradition, incorporating it with their annual matches. The recent events of misconduct are undoubtedly due to the greater publicity received by this tradition. As the legend goes, trucking originated as a form of requesting the principal of each girls' school to grant a holiday on the Friday on which the match was being played. The Royal Thomian was played over a two day period at this time, and thus if the boys' succeeded, the ladies were free to enjoy the match to ^ fullest. As expected however, the heads of the schools often refuseo'this request, and compensated by allowing the invading party to give their war cry within the premises.
To the average school boy, trucking is a big part of the Royal Thomian itself. Usually, the first official truck organized by a class is done in the upper sixth, with great care being taken to see that the correct bus, band and other paraphernalia are acquired. By the Wednesday before the match, the fever has reached epidemical levels. Thus, on that very morning, hordes of excited schoolboys approach the girls' schools and meet throngs of angry riot police. The rest of the morning is thus spent in formulating manoeuvres and< tactics that would easily rival the military genius of Alexander the Great. The history of Greece however, is probably the last thing on the mind of your average trucker as he gracefully propels himself over the wall into one of Colombo's less guarded schools. He knows that he has less than two minutes before the cops show up, and knows he has to make the best of it.
If
there is one thing that comes close to the act itself, it is the process of
reliving some of the more poignant memories of the bygone trucking era. Tales
are told of one first XI cricketer who spent the evening prior to the match in
the Cinnamon Gardens lockup. It is said that he was granted special permission
to stand outside, and practice his forward defensive stroke with a broomstick.
Incidentally, College won that year, and the lad went on to captain the side two
years later. Tales are also told of the principal of a Colombo 7 school, who
during the early fifties actually gave her girls the day off so they could watch
the match. The convincing factor it turns out, were the Thomians who had quietly
climbed in quietly through the back gate and asked in a unified voice for the
presence of the ladies at the match.
Back
on the streets, the party is beginning to draw to a close. The sun is high in
the sky now and a few have retired for the day. A few have succumbed to the long
arm of the law, others have taken off on more rewarding pursuits and another lot
have fallen prey to the convents (take it from me, hell hath no fury like a nun
with a broom stick). And thus another year of trucking ends. Those who are in
their final year undoubtedly feel nostalgic at this point (while they wait for
the nice policeman to call their parents) and will muse as to the changes that
have taken place in the police station since the last time they visited. Those
on the other hand, who have tasted the feeling for the first time, will already
be planning for next year. And so the saga lives on.
In
recent times, trucking has come under a lot of flak, and this is indeed
understandable, seeing the irresponsible behaviour of several parties. As public
opinion of the tradition declines, the police increase their presence every
year, reducing the amount of active participants. The next few years may see the
decline of snipers on the walls of Flower Road and soon, even scaling the
veritable fortress down Boyd Place may be but a thing of the past. As less and
less boys come forward to carry on one of the Royal Thomian's oldest traditions,
it is our wish to record that during the run up to the 125th encounter, the
sound of running feet were still heard in Colombo. Perhaps not a rumble, but a
murmur enough to remind us all that it's mid March again. '
Audaces
fortuna juvat