Two hours, 23 minutes and 12 seconds is a very long time. It seems even longer if you imagine having to spend all of it continuously running. In marathon terms though, this is seriously quick. This time is the personal best of Mara Yamauchi, St Anne’s College alumnus, now Commonwealth Bronze medallist and the second fastest female British Marathon runner of all time.

Things could have turned out so differently. Like so many Oxford graduates Yamauchi jumped straight from the academic treadmill into employment, getting a job in the Foreign Office. She moved quickly up the ranks and that could have been it: another Oxbridge civil servant quietly working behind the scenes to make sure society ticks along as normal, a complete non-story. No medals, no stardom and most importantly, no interview with Cherwell Sport. Thankfully, for the benefit of British athletics, Yamauchi did not opt for a normal life.

‘When I was 29 I decided to follow my dream of being a professional athlete’, she told us. And so she did. Within a few years she had won a bronze medal in the Commonwealth Games in Melbourne in 2006.  This story should provide motivation to all aspiring athletes or sportspeople who have had to put their dreams on ice for a few years. I for one shall not give up on my dream of being a Premiership football until at least the age of 30. To decide to ditch normality whilst nearing middle age is a testament to Yamauchi’s character and resolve – qualities we see in her during her long distance running.

Furthermore, Yamauchi’s relationship with the marathon took some time to develop, and it was far from love at first sight. Initially ‘to be honest I had absolutely no interest in it, it just seemed too far’. At Oxford the furthest distance she had run was three kilometres, as cross-country with its shorter races over tougher terrain was her first love. The older Yamauchi got, the further she started to run.When one discusses female British marathon runners, most people immediately think of women’s world-record holder and multiple Olympian Paula Radcliffe. Radcliffe and Yamauchi share more than just their sport – for both the marathon is a family affair, with their husbands influential both in training and in off the road elements such as nutrition. Yamauchi’s husband left his job in 2007 to become her coach: ‘It’s a big credit to him with no real background in athletics to coach someone to 6th in the Olympics. But I think it also shows that marathon running doesn’t have to be rocket science, anyone can pick it up and learn if you want to.’

 Athletics often goes hand in hand with obsession, with many of the true greats being perfectionists to near the point of self-destruction, but in this regard Yamauchi seems remarkably pragmatic. For her the pursuit is one of simplicity, and an escape from running is of paramount importance: ‘Even now I still think it would sometimes be better if I was working part time as I tend to become slightly obsessed with training, so I think having something else in your life, for example studying for a degree, is really valuable”. Yamauchi clearly sees life beyond athletics, and has aspirations for her future outside of the sport. This said, just the one day off every nine days seems like a pretty brutal schedule.

An obvious point of conversation was Yamauchi’s time at Oxford. She sings the praises of St Anne’s: ‘I loved every minute of it. My time at Anne’s was really nice, it’s a very big college with a good atmosphere and seemed to me to be really tolerant and neither elitist nor snooty.’ She also did some writing for Cherwell, which is perhaps why she agreed to give us the interview. Yamauchi somehow managed to fit everything in on top of the demanding schedule of a PPE degree, but this was mainly because athletics was never a chore: ‘I found running refreshing. It makes you organised and you value your time with friends more.’ It is easy to see how a run offers an escape from the daily pressures of Oxford life.

It is ironic that had Yamauchi ran her personal best at the Beijing Olympics she would have won the gold medal. However, as she explained to me, marathon running is quite an enigmatic discipline. Over the course of two hours tiny factors can make a huge difference, be they weather conditions, the pacing of the other runners around you or the course itself, and these combine to be the difference between a spot on the podium or merely top 20 anonymity. 

On form, if Yamauchi can peak at the right time next year, avoid injury, and work out how to perfect the mysteries of the marathon an Olympic medal in front of her home crowd would not be out of the question. Then she can finally retire and get a real job again.

Monday night saw the return of the most anticipated home fixture of the season, as the upstarts from Headington way congregated on Iffley Road to take on OURFC’s Greyhounds. This meeting had extra spice as it was also the first round of the Oxfordshire Cup, and although Brookes had given up their home fixture to have the match played at the larger Iffley, the huge numbers they had brought with them removed all possible element of home advantage.

Local derbies are always cagey affairs, often punctuated more by mistakes than free-flowing play, and this game was no exception. The Greyhounds were the first side to falter, as a ruck infringement handed Brookes a kickable penalty in the middle of the park. The Brookes 10 had been laughably bad when warming up his place-kicking boot before the match, but he struck this one well enough – just wide. Poor hands in the midfield and a faltering lineout meant the Greyhounds spent most of the next 15 minutes in their own half, allowing Brookes fly-half Rory Davis to put his side on the scoreboard, one penalty kicked and one more missed leaving it 3-0 midway through the first half.

Then came the first moment of quality in the match. A poorly chased box kick gave the Brookes right wing plenty of space to launch a counter attack on the halfway line, and good hands released his left wing counterpart down the touchline, neatly stepping the Greyhounds full back in the corner. Against all the odds, Davis kicked the conversion to give Brookes a 10-0 lead, and when the Greyhounds restart went straight into touch, the situation was beginning to look a little worrying for them.

One of the only real positives for Oxford was their scrum, with the strong front row of Andrew Grounds, Sean Brassill and John Direen really getting on top of their opposite numbers. The only real negative was the consistently dodgy handling in the loose from the Greyhounds who gave them so many opportunities to show their superiority. Indeed, the remainder of the first half was dominated by a rash of knock-ons and breakdown penalties.

Rory Davis’ kicking from hand had been the antithesis of his from the tee, putting the Greyhounds back three under all sorts of pressure, and from a Brookes lineout deep in Oxford territory a delightful grubber through saw three Brookes backs converge on the ball, their number 11 being the first in the queue to touch it down under the posts.  17-0  at half time then, and the Brookes supporters in ecstasy. The person responsible for deciding that Frosty Jack’s was to be the default alcohol on sale was clearly in need of a serious head examination as the sea of pink that was the main stand was getting pretty feisty, the chants more boisterous and the atmosphere as the teams returned to the pitch even more intimidating for a Greyhounds side facing a serious test to get anything from the match.

They appeared to emerge with renewed resolve and a new game plan, keeping it tight among the forwards to try and gain yards and momentum with one particularly effective driving maul drawing the ire of the Brookes fans and yells of support from the few Dark Blue fans who had dared attend. However, the errors were still too prevalent and the first 15 minutes were an arm-wrestle in the centre of the pitch punctuated by flaring tempers. Bullocking prop Andrew Grounds was at the centre of the still-dominant Greyhounds scrum, making their insistence on kicking to touch and allowing the ineffective lineout to lose the ball even more bizarre and infuriating.

However, the Greyhounds keeping the ball tight was causing Brookes to concede a few too many penalties at the ruck, and after a clever kick put them under pressure on their own line their No 8 was guilty once too often, receiving ten minutes in the sin bin for his trouble. The Greyhounds finally took a scrum from the resulting penalty, and Number 8 and captain Dugald MacDonald, who had carried strongly all evening, picked up from the base before releasing scrum half Ruari O’Donovan to barge over in the corner. Fly half Guillaume Bourda, in the middle of a difficult night, missed the conversion, but at least the ‘Hounds now had a toehold in the match.

Unfortunately, for the last ten minutes of what should have been a tense finale, the crowd, by now universally absolutely smashed, took centre stage. It was only a matter of time before the first streaker appeared, and the only surprise when it happened was her gender, one particularly classy Brookes girl deciding to follow the advice of the rabid crowd and ‘get her tits out for the lads’. She was collared by the stewards before making it onto the pitch, but the two guys who swiftly followed her were much more successful, one of them even leaving and then returning five minutes later to take up station at outside centre for Brookes in their back line before being dragged away.

As it was, not much else happened on the pitch up until the final minute, when a Brookes breakaway appeared to lead to a try in the corner. However, I confess to not having had a clue what was going on as at this moment the entire main stand stormed the pitch, forcing the referee to abandon the match. It was a pity for it to end this way, and the half full cans being hurled everywhere were a slightly sour sight (as far as I’m aware, no-one got hit in any serious way) but that is part and parcel of this fixture, and the atmosphere and sheer amount of money Brookes bring in to OURFC mean we can look forward to this fixture again next year, where hopefully the Greyhounds will make a slightly better fist of it.

Proposition – Caspar ‘Casparnova’ Eliot – New College Full-back

I love sport, and what with football being sport I do enjoy it very much (and hate it occasionally, being a long-suffering Spurs fan). But it has always irritated me that football has managed to obtain status as the global sport when it is clearly inferior to rugby, and here’s why.

I’m going to start with a personal bugbear. Both sports are meant to be man’s games. Why then, do we see the constant image of footballers writhing around on the ground in apparent agony upon receiving the merest hint of physical contact. I also find the hounding of referees and brandishing of imaginary cards abhorrent. With rugby, there is no hiding. Any sign of weakness is an opportunity for the opponent to exploit, so there is no simulation. Also, respect for the referee (or ‘sir’) is paramount, and you will never see a rugby team crowd around the ref shoving and bellowing a descision in their favour.

Rugby is known as ‘a game for all shapes-and-sizes’, and this maxim still holds true. Physique of a human cube? You could make an excellent front-rower. Beanpole? The lineout is your calling. Vertically challenged but nippy? You’d slot in nicely at scrum-half. Compared to football, where unless you’re reasonably tall and fast you’re going to struggle at a decent level, this come-one-come-all nature is one of the game’s greatest features (and for those of you doubting this holds at the highest levels, watching Wales v. France in the 2010 Six Nations you could have witnessed Marc Andreu – 5 ft 5 and 11 stone – tackling Luke Charteris – 6 ft 10 and 20 stone).

Three years ago I had the pleasure of watching New College AFC 2nd XI defeat Keble to gloriously win Cuppers and it was one of the worst spectacles I’ve ever witnessed. Neither team was capable of stringing more than two passes together, the ball spent most of the time fired into the air around the centre circle and the only part that bore any similarity to a professional match was when one of our midfielders got booked for diving. And therein lies a major problem. At the top level I won’t deny that football is a (I’ll withhold the definite article) beautiful game, but that bears little or no resemblance to what happens on sports grounds around Oxford on a weekday afternoon as deficiencies in first touch and technical ability put paid to all attempts to do what you can see in your mind, or on the FIFA screen.

With rugby, on the other hand, it is perfectly possible to watch the All Blacks perform some magical set-piece move on the weekend, and then give it a go next time you train or play. The speed of the game may be lower, the skill levels slightly less and the contacts not quite as terrifyingly brutal, but fundamentally it is the same at whatever level, with any wing capable of that scything run, or any forward that bone-shuddering hit.

I could also mention how rugby has managed to utilise technology to eradicate (for the most part) ridiculously contentious decisions that can ruin one’s enjoyment of an entire match. I could mention how rugby is a generally higher scoring game, with much less of an opportunity for one team to turn up and park their bus in front of the goal/try line. The arguments are innumerable.In the end, to settle the debate,  we could simply follow the Harry Hill method to decide which is better, but I fear that upon the shout of ‘FIGHT’ all the footballers would lie on the ground feigning injury. Says it all, really.

Opposition – Adam Fellows – Blues Left-back

Every single schoolboy dreams of being a footballer. And why wouldn’t he? They want what the pros have – the glory, the adoration, the exhilaration, the fame, the fast cars the beautiful women. 

They play our sport on every playground and on every blade of grass in an endless pursuit of perfection for one very simple reason. The better you are at football, the more popular you are – this is an irrefutable fact. 

Unfortunately at a stage in early adolescence the weak minded ones turn to the dark side. The frail, shy yet cumbersome children who feel intimidated and belittled by the dominant footballers turn to steroids to bulk themselves up . The rugby players do their lifts, their curls and their presses until they feel confident enough to stand up to football’s superior species. 

After their inevitable rejection to rejoin our game they steal the conventional spherical ball in a fit of growth hormone-induced petulance and sit on it with all their considerable weight. Thus, the misshapen egg that is the rugby ball is born. 

Rugby players change the rules so that they can carry the ball in the air in order to stare at each other’s sculpted pecs and inflated arms (not to mention the overhanging rolls of flab in the middle). 

Having failed at the notion of kicking the ball into a net they decide to kick it over the net into an infinitely bigger area. This takes much less skill, perhaps the crucial strength of football. In rugby points are scored when one falls over the opponents’ line. In football a goal requires evasion, a cool head and the ability to beat the goalkeeper. 

This is just one example of an endless list where association football has the edge on that other posh-boy, meat-headed excuse for a sport. There’s so much more finesse – a footballer has technique, precision, tactics and fitness in addition to strength and force. Rather than just mindlessly bashing skulls together in the scrum (which I’m fairly sure is just an excuse for everyone to fondle each other’s genitals) footballers pass, move and work together. 

Whilst the men of the “hard-man’s” game afterwards moan about their vegetable ears until they have to resort to protective headgear, the footballer takes the knee high lunge and gets on with the game.

Whilst I must admit that a lot of what the media says about football is true – there is corruption, disappointment on an international level and the excessive spending of money domestically. Despite this football covers both the front and back pages of the newspapers. Why? Because people care about it. It is the heart and soul of millions whilst rugby articles end up in the editors’ shredding pile because, frankly. nobody is really that bothered.

The media criticse the boozing and the disappointment that our national team provides. At least the England rugby team didn’t go on a ridiculous bender in the middle of a World Cup and lose what may have been their tournament. Oh wait…

When I was traveling across Australia a few years ago (yeah, gap yah story, deal with it), a helpful Antipodean tried his best to explain the madness that was occuring on the television in front of me. It looked like 36 angry men in coloured wife beaters charging around a cricket pitch with four vertical posts at each end. There was a ball, but it seemed merely incidental. This was my introduction to Aussie Rules football, and a visit to a local derby at the Melbourne Cricket Ground (capacity: 100,000, atmosphere: second to none) later, I was hooked.

It is hard to appreciate just how massive Aussie rules is in Australia when one barely ever hears about it over here. The AFL has a higher average attendance than the Premier League. It is like rugby, both in ball shape and general handling and tackling, and played on a large egg-shaped pitch. The object is to kick the “footie” through the sets of four posts at the end of the pitch to score points, and a few other minor rules aside, that’s pretty much it.

I turned up to the training along with seemingly every Aussie in Oxford. The Rhodes Scholarship and its emphasis on academic and athletic excellence ensures a constant supply of players, and means the annual Varsity match with Cambridge is now in its 91st year. We started off with some drills, designed to get newcomers used to some of the peculiarities of the game. Rather than passing as in rugby, you punch the ball out of your hand with your other fist, in what is known as a handpass. There is also a lot of kicking, and if you catch a kick on the full it is known as a ‘mark’ and is the only time in an incredibly frantic game where you cannot be touched as you are allowed to make the next kick for free, unchallenged.

Training finished with a proper game of eight-on-eight footie. This was chaos, but also great fun. It was incredibly physical, and as, unlike in both rugby codes, there are no offside lines, things can and do happen from any and every direction. You can think you’re clean through and ready to kick a glorious six-pointer (kicks between the two central posts are worth six, others are worth one), when suddenly you’re flattened by an opponent you had no idea was there. 

The ball spent a lot of the time being scrapped over on the ground, making the satisfaction of taking a mark, and being afforded the few seconds’ peace that offers, even greater. There were nuances to the game I didn’t pick up (what I thought were excellent ‘cheeky offloads’ were all immediately pinged for being passes, not handballs), but in terms up of being easy to pick up and play, it was a revelation.

If any rugby players are looking for something a little different, or if you just fancy playing a sport where a team beer after training is not merely encouraged but mandatory, I can’t recommend it enough.

Last Tuesday marked the end of England’s humiliating 5 match ODI encounter with India. They lost by 95 runs at Eden Gardens completing India’s bemusing 5-0 whitewash over them. The series saw Indian skipper, MS Dhoni, score 330 runs without losing his wicket once.

But what does this series reveal about the prospects of one day cricket in India and England? Clearly, it has crucial indicators for where cricket is going in both countries. Firstly let us look at India. They have done well to deny England even a single win, after their own ill-fated summer in England. Using the slow, turning pitches of the sub-continent, spinners Ashwin and Jadeja ripped through the England ranks, while middle order batsmen like Virat Kohli made runs effortlessly. 

But there are problems. India is suffering from an exhaustive international schedule, playing full series against the West Indies, Australia, Sri Lanka and Pakistan, in the year to come. It is little wonder that key players such as Tendulkar and Sehwag are injured and did not play in this series as a result. For the first time in living memory, stands for an international series in India were empty: even the Indian public have had enough.

England too has some issues, but it is not time to panic just yet. Unlike India who will cast aside their young prospects such as Rahane and Ashwin, once the likes of Zaheer Khan and Sachin Tendulkar return, England have committed in earnest to a young, developing side: Kieswetter, Patel, Bairstow, Finn and Dernbach are all relatively new names. 

Yes, the middle order consistently collapsed at the hands of the Indian spinners, but don’t forget the glimpses of form shown by Kieswetter and Patel. They are playing the start of 2012 in Pakistan and Sri Lanka: an opportunity to improve against the turning ball. England also has a strong management who rotate players in the context of a very reasonable international schedule.

Clearly, both sides have a lot to take away from this tour, but while England has until January to reflect upon their game, India will already be onto their next series in an exhausting, never-ending season.

The Oxford Women’s Rugby Team welcomed Exeter University fully aware that they were in for a challenge. This was always going to be a tough fixture against the team that reached the final of the University Women’s Rugby Cup last year.

It would be interesting to see how this relatively unfamiliar Blues side would fare against the league big boys and for the first twenty five minutes at least, Oxford proved a spirited match for their opponents. The scrum was organised and competitive, and possession fairly equal. 

Already though, there were warning signs that the Blues’ carelessness with the ball could prove costly. Handling errors (on both sides, admittedly) meant play was fragmented all too often and Exeter began to show their authority at the line-outs. 

A series of borderline decisions from the match referee did little to help either team’s fluidity, and with neither side showing the sort of play needed to lift play above the middle-of-the-park scrap, a spark was needed to get the game going. 

Finally, with nearly thirty minutes played, Exeter provided the injection of quality the match needed. Oxford had only themselves to blame for this however. A missed tackle left the home side’s backline mercilessly exposed and Exeter’s lightning number 10 took full advantage, grabbing her first try of the afternoon to break the deadlock. The conversion was missed, but the damage was done, and Oxford never really recovered. 

Rather than bring the Blues to life, the five points only seemed to spur on Exeter, who were now well in control of proceedings. A series of injury breaks gave the hosts a chance to regroup, but despite the best efforts of the tacticians on the sidelines, the Exeter girls remained on top, almost cutting open the Oxford backline again on thirty four minutes. A heroic last ditch tackle was all that lay in the way of Exeter extending their lead further.

The green-kitted visitors stayed calm and assured, and minutes later their patience was rewarded with a second try, again scored by their number ten. To make matters worse, the Exeter kicker defied the blustery conditions to notch her first conversion of the meeting. As half-time approached, not even the sight of one of Exeter’s players limping off the pitch could have done much to encourage the Blues, who were now facing a 12-0 deficit.

The second period began in much the same way as the first. Oxford, apparently spurred on by their team talk, began to frustrate their free-flowing opponents – although Exeter’s pace and strength in attack continued to cause trouble.  With the clock approaching 60 minutes another hammer blow was layed out by the side in green. The Exeter forwards strolled through the Blues backs after another missed interception, and an inevitable try and conversion followed. 

A brief lull in the game’s tempo was then rudely interrupted by another nail in Oxford’s coffin, this time some fine work down the right flank leaving the Blues backline powerless to avoid conceding a further five points. The Exeter fly-half began to find her Jonny Wilkinson touch and it came as no surprise when she buried a fine conversion from a tight angle to send her team twenty six points clear.

Emotions began to rise in the Blues area of the touchline as the team’s hard core contingent of followers began to get agitated. This score line had to be kept respectable but still Exeter probed at the hosts’ defence, although Oxford started to show some resilience of their own. 

Finally, with virtually the last action of the match, Oxford huffed and puffed their way to a try, their sheer determination proving too much for the Exeter backs. The welcome five points were met with an expected roar from the crowd. 

Despite the convincing victory for Exeter, Blues Coach Al Heath was in good spirits after the match. He reiterated the proven superior quality of Exeter’s team (the ‘second best in the country’) and said he was ‘not displeased’ with the manner of his side’s loss. 

‘They showed good endeavour’, he remarked, while citing his side’s own mistakes as being the key cause of their downfall. Still, this was a sobering contest after the 43-10 conquest of Cardiff last week, and there will be plenty for the Oxford girls to think about going into next week’s away tie at Bath. They need to come back from Wednesday’s disappointment in order to rebuild their season.