Van Mildert Alumni Association

Category: History

  • Everyone seems to know the score: Memories of Euro 96 at Mildert

    Everyone seems to know the score: Memories of Euro 96 at Mildert

    I was lucky to be at Mildert in a golden area for football. I arrived in 1994 and by the time I left in summer 1998 there had been the rise of Fergie time at Man United, Blackburn winning the league and, of course, who can forget Bradford City’s promotion to the Championship in the 1996 playoffs after being 2-0 down in the first leg. (Ed – only you remember that!)

    Complementing those highlights (Ed – again only you think the Bantams were a highlight) was the pure brilliance of Euro 96, when the whole country, and college, got behind a competition in our back yard. Three of the games were just up the road in Newcastle, with the best free kick of the whole tournament coming from Hagi in a 3-1 defeat to France. In fact I was very lucky to get a last minute ticket to that game with a bunch of other Mildertians, and being at a game in the North East made it feel even more special as England progressed.

    In those days watching football at college was a strictly communal experience. The Premier League was on Sky and, with no other way of watching Sunday afternoon games, a group watch was the norm. The TV room, and it’s feed of live sport moved around over my four years, going from the top floor overlooking the lake and Tees lawn, before settling in the refurbished JCR. Communal viewing wasn’t just tournament football, you were just as likely to see a crowd for the latest Alan Partridge as for the big match.

    Euro 96 started with a bang on 8th June for England fans but unfortunately this clashed with another college sporting tradition, the annual trip to the test match. The coach load of Mildertians managed to intertwine watching England steamroll India at Edgbaston with updates on the big screens of the rather disappointing draw with Switzerland, falling to a late penalty at Wembley. However what laid in wait was a clash with Scotland in a few days time. This game was going to be a big deal, not just because of the auld enemy but because we had a new location to watch the game.

    The Ustinov room had been opened earlier in the academic year, primarily for conference use, but a forward-thinking Bursar​ had installed a projector, giant screen and surround sound speaker system. I’m not sure if food and drink was allowed in there, but it was a weekend and most people had a beer in hand by kick off. The chairs weren’t the most comfortable, but the crowd was large and in great spirit. The game was close and there was tension in the room thanks to a small but vocal crowd of Scots in one corner, led by the irrepressible George Patterson, then college Vice Principal. Shearer’s goal shortly after half time created a buoyant feeling amongst the majority, but the game turned on the missed Scottish penalty and Gascoigne’s ‘Dentist’s Chair’ goal within a minute of each other and left the English fans ecstatic.

    As the nation began to believe that football was coming home, excitement soared in college. Every second room in college had ‘Three Lions’ blasting out of the window, corridors were filled with watching the Euro Fantasy Football on the communal TV set and football shirts became more and more common in the dinner queue. However there was a problem looming!

    England’s crucial final group game, against the Dutch, was to be held at the exact same time as the final formal dinner of the academic year. The choice was stark, miss the chance to drink cheap wine and Woodman bitter (available from all good off licences called Sammy Sultanas at £2.99 for four cans) with your mates before you headed off for summer holidays, or watch England. Decisions were made and friendships tested and I made my own personal choice. I chose the formal, and it wasn’t a decision I came to regret.

    Imagine the scene: the hall was packed out with 250 students, celebrating the end of exams and anticipating adventures in sunnier climes. The Ustinov room was again the choice of venue for those watching the game for two reasons. Firstly, superstition is a powerful motivator with one win under the belt in the location but, secondly, for more practical reasons a bunch of spectators in the JCR, directly adjacent to the hall, just wasn’t practical.

    The college principal, Judy Turner, was in the middle of her end of year speech, when it happened. Judy is a slight, small and well spoken academic with an intense curiosity in all things learning. Football was not her go-to topic of conversation, it would be fair to say. She also had an accent and speech cadence very reminiscent of the late Queen Elizabeth, a fairly high pitched voice punctuated by pauses and moments of reflection. It would help enormously with the telling of this story if you read Judy’s quotes to yourself in the voice of QE2.

    As Judy was summing up her views on another successful year, standing at the high table with a microphone amplifying her shrill voice, it happened. It actually happened, England scored. At the precise moment the ball hit the back of the net about 20 people jumped up and cheered, revealing the radios and earphones that had been hidden on their person, in one synchronised leap! This was followed five seconds later by a sight I will never forget.

    On the reception balcony overlooking the hall appeared a mass of England fans, pints in hand shouting at the top of their voices, led by Jeremy Rampling. The delay was the precise time it had taken for the goal to be scored and for the mob to run from the Ustinov room to overlook the hall to celebrate. Judy took one look at the hall, one look at the cheering lads in reception and without missing a beat in her speech said, ‘I take it we have scored’ and then returned to the topic at hand about academic achievements in the Biology department. 

    This event was repeated three times, as England won 4-1, with precisely the same outcome each time. An immediate reaction from those with secreted radios, followed by a delayed arrival of drunker and drunker fans from the Ustinov room as every goal went in. To her credit Judy didn’t react to any of the outbreaks in the hall, which made it more and more absurd. Although she did say to me afterwards, “Kenzie, what is this song about ‘going home’ (sic) that they are singing about the football?” I didn’t have the heart to burst her bubble, as she never really had her finger on the cultural zeitgeist of the 90s.

    There were other communal football days in college, with France 98 a worthy successor, but Euro 96 was something special. It wasn’t just that we nearly won it, but because it was our tournament in our backyard. It was the first time we heard, sang and loved Three Lions. After the hooliganism of the 80s, football was cool again. However, the memory that will always stick with me about that tournament is the reaction in the dining hall on a muggy evening in June 1996.

  • Things Could Only Get Better: Mildert Memories of the 1997 General Election

    Things Could Only Get Better: Mildert Memories of the 1997 General Election

    A long-standing Conservative government beset with scandal, challenged by a resurgent Labour Party led by a centrist leader. But it’s not 2024. It’s 1997, I’m a student at Mildert and things could only get better…

    1997 was the most culturally and historically important year in the decade, the summer bookended by this seismic general election and the death of Princess Diana.

    A 1st May election did not work well for students, as it fell bang in the revision period. The JCR and DSU ran poster campaigns and held meetings (social media was still a decade away), encouraging students to register to vote either at home or in Durham, according to where their votes would count the most.

    On polling day, the anticipation in college was huge, fueled by the 6 week campaign
    and a palpable sense of change. To get as many students as possible voting, the JCR hired a mini bus and ran a regular service to the polling station at Neville’s Cross. The then JCR President, Ben Tomlinsson (known as Cheesy) was the driver for the day, and was acting out every ‘On The Buses’ catchphrase and 1980s coach driver trope to entertain passengers on the short hop to vote.

    The rest of the day was focused on revision for my finals. However, at dinner time the mood in college started to change. The conversation was ‘Are you going to watch it all tonight?’ and ‘Do you think it will be a landslide?’. After a few more hours of work, we congregated in the bar from 9pm.

    In those days TVs weren’t in every room, and most people relied on the large screen in the JCR for most major events such as England games, comedy shows and news. At 10pm, the polls closed and a large group congregated in the JCR to watch the exit poll on the BBC. There was shock and celebration when the exit polls revealed a swing of over 10% and a forecasted Labour landslide. Most people retired to the bar to wait for the real results to be declared.

    As more and more beer was consumed, more and more people said they would stay up all night. It felt like an unmissable moment. As last orders were being called at the bar, the first result came in from Sunderland. Jonty Alone, Mildert’s uber-political DSU Rep, ran into the bar shouting “It’s a 13% swing. It’s gonna be a wipeout”. This was the most excited I’d seen Jonty since he photocopied Paul Phillips’ notes from a year of skipped lectures and scraped a 2:2.

    Corridor watch parties were hastily organised. In those days people would sit out in the corridor surrounding a TV, like an old folks home watching Antiques Roadshow on a Sunday evening. My corridor had a decent TV that was rolled out and placed against the wall as seats and beanbags fanned out in a semi-circle around it.

    People moved to and fro through the night, but as the Tories kept tumbling the sense of shock was immense. My personal favourite was still being up for Portillo at 3am, his smug face was a sight for very tired eyes. There were also other surreal moments that evening, such as Tom Hunt watching his father lose his job live on TV. Tom didn’t seem too bothered so neither were we, and his dad soon ended up in the Lords anyway.

    The next morning was exciting. It genuinely felt like there was change in the air, both in Durham and across the country. Whether or not the Blair and Brown governments delivered on this hope is a matter of opinion, but the whole evening still rides high in my Mildert memories. It’s a shame the students this year will be unable to watch in college due to the election being called in the summer holidays.

  • Memories of a lost boathouse by George Weeks

    Memories of a lost boathouse by George Weeks

    By George Weeks, VMC 2003-06. VMBC Treasurer 2004-5; VMBC Boatman 2005-6

    Last December’s immolation of Van Mildert Boat Club (VMBC) was more than a straightforward fire; it consumed 56 years of history. 

    I joined VMBC as a fresher in 2003. Unlike the majority of my sign-ups, this commitment lasted well beyond Freshers’ Week. Little did I know how prominently this tiny green shed would feature throughout my Durham career.

    VMBC’s boathouse was a modest building, but its location was spectacular. Sitting on the edge of UNESCO World Heritage Site, arrival at VMBC always provided a sense of occasion, whether via Kingsgate Bridge or the riverside paths. The staircase leading from Durham cathedral to the boathouse was frequently used for land training a.k.a. hazing.

    Open the wooden double doors and the prows of rowing boats old and new greeted the oncomer; an array of bow balls. An old-but-serviceable fibreglass Aylings sat on wheeled dollies, accompanied by the new-in-2004 George Patterson, the lightweight wooden Temptress, two single sculls, a venerable double called Non Sequitur and two other wooden fours. High in the rafters sat an array of bright yellow blades – VMBC boats were visible from afar.  

    The George Patterson being prepared for its maiden voyage

    VMBC was always too small for eights. Not that rowing was unpopular – far from it – the boathouse was simply too diminutive for anything bigger than a four. Unlike the neighbouring Chad’s and John’s/Mary’s boathouses, VMBC never had mains electricity, thus giving a speleological flavour to any expedition to the back of the boathouse. Deep in the depths of the building you’d find a bewildering array of old steel riggers from long-forgotten vessels; the bones of rowing history. 

    Participation has always characterised Van Mildert College; this was similarly true for the boat club. Many first year rowers progressed to coaching in the second year; others led gruelling circuit training, ergo sessions and 2K tests (motto: “pain is merely weakness leaving the body”). In summer we bought rollers and painted the boathouse’s interior white. I dutifully marked all movable VMBC possessions (cox box, bicycle, etc) with small squares of yellow paint. 

    Maintenance was a constant duty. Seats, riggers, shows, electrics…all  needed to be kept in good condition. In rowing, mechanical failure can lose a race…as can collisions and clashed blades.  We frequently took boats for repairs at Brown’s, the boatbuilder under Elvet Bridge. In my committee positions as Treasurer and then Boatman, this pained me greatly. My all-VMBC e-mails would plead for tenderness in handling our boats. Did we really want our precious membership subscriptions to fund the boatbuilder’s newest Mercedes-Benz? 

    George Weeks prepares the George Patterson for launch

    Inter-collegiate rowing was a highlight of Durham, with an overriding sense of competitive camaraderie between the college boat clubs. Participate in a regatta, or indeed any rowing-related event, and you had the sense of adding your own tiny layer of history to the VMBC story. 

    Buildings do not need to be big or grand to have a sense of place. VMBC’s boathouse may have been no bigger than an average garage, but it encapsulated a half-century of rowing enjoyment. It welcomed thousands of Mildertians onto the Wear with bright yellow blades. It will be sorely missed. 

    George Weeks, 2003-06. VMBC Treasurer 2004-5; VMBC Boatman 2005-6

  • Popping Down to the Virtual Mildert Bar

    Popping Down to the Virtual Mildert Bar

    I’ve been back to Mildert bar on several occasions over the twenty three years since I graduated, usually for a drunken reunion or a quick nosey when heading up the A1. I have probably clocked up ten visits, almost one every two years since 1998. That, I think from my group of Mildertian friends, isn’t too shabby a record. However, in the last 5 weeks I’ve been back seven times.

    Yes, you read it correctly. In the midst of the global Covid-19 pandemic I’ve managed to clock up circa 20 hours drinking and chatting in Mildert bar with fellow alumni. Of course, this isn’t breaking any of the lockdown rules by travelling northwards but it is in fact the ‘Virtual’ Mildert Bar.

    Whether it is Google Hangouts, Zoom or any other video conferencing platform, Mildert Bar has returned with a big bang into my life. A couple of times a week I’m hanging out like it was 1996 with close friends and people I haven’t seen since the heady days of Blur vs Oasis, and can I tell you it has been wonderful!

    At a time when the world is a challenge and the news is 24-hour doom and gloom it has been brilliant to get away from it all and talk ‘shite’ for three hours about anything and everything. It’s been great hearing what people are now doing, what their families are like and often what they look like as a small child comes running into shot calling for mummy. I daren’t say to many Mildertian’s children that the last time I saw your dad he was vomiting into a grate outside the Dunn Cow post-graduation.

    The talk, as you would imagine, defaults to our time at college pretty quickly. Do you remember the first Kazu, your first ‘laking’, the recycling of sausages into every dish imaginable in the kitchens and the high pitched Geordie banter of the amazing cleaning staff.  These memories are quickly enriched by people thrusting 25-year-old, slightly faded, photographs to their laptop camera so that we can relive the horror of Indie haircuts, drunken formals and liaisons we’d rather forget. Thank god that camera phones had not been invented in the 90’s or else the evidence would have been far more plentiful.

    There are alumni scattered all around the world and on the calls I’ve conversed with Mancs living in California, Stoke City fans in Saxony, expats in NYC and Geordies in the Caymans. The latter is purely for work opportunities and nothing to do with tax implications I’ve been told to say in case any alumni work for HMRC.

    What has amazed me was that a time of restricted social interaction many of my friends first thoughts were to spend the time and reach out to people they haven’t spoken to in years. It shows a lot about the community spirit, love and general bunch of top drawer people Mildert produces, and still produces to this day.

    I’ve enclosed a few screenshots of some of the sessions I’ve been involved in to seen if you can spot anyone you know. However please share some more with the Alumni if you have any of your virtual meet ups, or indeed future meet ups if this inspires you. We’d love to keep a record of the virtual bar and share with everyone in the Alumni at a later date.

    James Mackenzie, VMC 1994 -98

  • Keepers of the College Things

    Keepers of the College Things

    Mildert has thrived for over half a century thanks to the hard work of the students who fill the hundreds of JCR positions. The library, the shop, the bar, social events, welfare services and much more are only possible because of the hours sacrificed by students looking for a way to avoid studying. Some even put the real world on hold for a year (or occasionally two) by taking full-time sabbatical roles after graduation.

    And then are there are those whose dedication to a single cause leads them to become a KOTC: Keeper of the College Things.

    These roles date back to at least the 1990s. The JCR’s standing orders from 1994 require the annual election of a ‘Keeper of the College Darkroom’, and while this role may not have survived either the loss of a college darkroom or the advent of digital photography, it does seem to have been the seed of dozens of similar KOTC positions.

    Some KOTC positions were serious roles, requiring specialist skills and knowledge, such as the keepers of the college multi-gym, drum kit and sewing machine. Others – like the KOTC Stallion, Spew and Stubble – had rather less clearly defined responsibilities.

    KOTC Things, as defined by the 2003 JCR Standing Orders

    The JCR standing orders expressly forbids the Keepers of the College Things from ever meeting together, presumably out of concern that the combined power of those with expertise in ducks, snooker rooms and spew would threaten the existing power structures.

    In 2004, the crime most feared by a KOTC Thing occurred: burglary. The JCR’s 42″ plasma TV screen was stolen from the wall, leaving the KOTC Plasma – George Weeks – with the unwelcome honour of being the only known KOTC Thing to outright fail to maintain the existence of their thing within the college.

    He had literally one job
    Police would like to speak to this man

    It is unclear if KOTC Things still exist, and the journalistic quality of Mildert News does not extend to me actually asking anyone, but there does not seem to be any evidence of these roles in the current JCR standing orders. It is unclear how the college can continue to operate effectively without someone dedicated to advertising the existence of its sewing machine, but somehow they soldier on.

    Here is a list of all the KOTC Things that I could find. If you know of more, please comment below or on the Mildert Memories Facebook group:

    • KOTC Drum Kit whose duties shall include the maintenance of the college drum kit
    • KOTC Ducks whose duties shall include caring for and the protection of the college’s duck, particularly newborn ducklings.
    • KOT Mildert Spirit whose duties shall include compelling members of the JCR to get involved with as much as possible within college and share Mildert love.
    • KOTC Multi-gym and four assistants to the KOTC multi- gym whose duties shall include the maintenance and improvement of the multi-gym.
    • KOTC Plasma whose duties shall include looking after the 42” wide screen plasma television located in the JCR.
    • KOTC Pianos whose duties shall include facilitating the regular tuning and maintenance of pianos around college.
    • KOTC Sewing Machine whose duties shall include keeping, maintaining and advertising the college’s sewing machine.
    • KOTC Snooker Room whose duties shall include the maintenance and improvement of the colleges Snooker room.
    • KOTC Spew whose duties are too vulgar to record within the Standing Orders.
    • KOTC Stallion whose duties include pampering and caring for the college stallion.
    • KOTC Stubble whose duties shall include maintaining visible facial hair growth for seventy percent (70%) of the academic year.
    • The Average Person, who shall be responsible for representing the average view on any JCR matter.
    • KOTC Drill, who shall be responsible for ensuring that the legend of the Drillman, and the associated song by Jonathan Fudger, continues to be passed on to new generations of Mildertians.
    • KOTC Friendly Sloth, whose duties shall include introducing the sloth into any argument to remind the two sides that they should be being nice to each other.
    • KOTC Grounds, whose duties shall include caring for the college grounds, the lake and the surrounding areas. The KOTC Grounds shall be responsible for recruiting and co-ordinating a team of volunteers to maintain and improve the grounds and to plant bulbs etc.
  • The Kazu: A Brief History

    The Kazu: A Brief History

    If you attended Mildert in the last twenty years, you will probably have hazy memories of ‘The Kazu’. This ritual, started by a Japanese student named Kazuhisa Fukatsu in 1997, involved a can of Coke being thrown, kicked, rolled and/or slapped, then sprayed over the head of a JCR election winner.

    What are the origins of the Kazu? What caused this visiting student to start a tradition that spans eight generations of Mildertian? Kazu himself was interviewed by former JCR President Martin Saville in 2015:

    The Japanese sketch that inspired the first Kazu

    I’m very glad to hear about people still ‘Do a Kazu’. I didn’t know about that. The reason I did ‘Do a Kazu’, before I came back to Japan, I wanted to do something as a memory. I want to tell people, gag of the Japanese comedian. The comedian, he clapped his chest while he say something. He beated his head with steel ashtray. You check the gag [see video].

    When I did ‘Do a Kazu’ I couldn’t find ashtray. I hit using coke. I just wanted to tell everybody the guy which I like.

    Kazu, interviewed by Martin Saville in 2015
    The Kazu, as performed by Kazu. From the 1997 Van Mildert yearbook. Photo credit: James Mackenzie

    So that’s that cleared up then. Kazu was imitating a shirtless Japanese comedian who bangs an ashtray on his head, but substituted the ashtray for a can of Coke. A standard Saturday night.

    This inaugural Kazu in early 1997 was witnessed by drinkers leaving the bar, creating a buzz around college and prompting both Kazuhisa himself and Kazu copy cats to recreate the event over the following weeks. Crucially, this coincided with the conclusion of a few JCR exec elections. As the election results were declared, the gathered crowd spontaneously erupted in a chant of “Ka-zu! Ka-zu!”. A 50p was found for the Coke machine and Kazuhisa was on hand to guide the winning candidates through his ritual.

    Although the Kazu has varied over the years, the core requirements quickly evolved into:

    1. After the results declaration, the winning candidate climbs the foyer staircase and is handed a can of fizzy drink. Although originally performed with Coca Cola, perfectly legitimate Kazus have been completed with Fanta or Cherry Coke. For a period, the college cleaners insisted that Diet Coke be used, as it’s less sticky.
    2. The candidate kicks the can down the staircase towards the baying crowd below, before running down after it.
    3. The candidate tosses the can three times over their head. A split can at this stage is said by some to be a harbinger of bad luck for the candidate’s year in office.
    4. Finally, the can is opened overhead, spraying the candidate and the gathered crowd with sticky sweet soda.

    Mildert’s 34th JCR President, James Mackenzie, has the proud claim to be the first to perform the Kazu in March 1997. Since then, the tradition has been performed by 20 other Presidents, and by countless Exec members. A hardcore few have performed the Kazu multiple times by virtue of holding more than one Exec position during their time at Mildert.

    For the audience, the Kazu is a uniquely hilarious spectacle, but for the participants it can mean so much more. After a couple of weeks of sticking posters in toilets, knocking on doors and singing weakly-comedic songs to a partisan audience, that high pressure jet of Coke is the climax of a draining election process. In June 2005 I was lucky enough to perform a Kazu and I can honestly say I don’t think I’ll ever feel more proud to be soaked in Coca Cola.

    I can report that, as of 2019, the Kazu is still performed, but only now by victorious presidential candidates. It is not clear when or how the tradition fell out of favour with winners of other positions.

    For more than a third of Mildert’s history, a strange ritual initiated spontaneously by a Teikyo student in a time before social media or camera phones has become a unifying absurdity between generations of Mildertians.

    Mildert News would like to hear from you. Did you ever perform a Kazu? Did you know Kazu himself? Please add your Kazu photos, videos and memories to the Mildert Memories Facebook group.