The air crackles with anticipation, a raw energy that only centuries of tradition can forge. Ashbourne, Derbyshire, is bracing itself for the Royal Shrovetide Football Match, a contest of endurance, grit, and unwavering local pride. This isn't a game for the faint of heart; it's a two-day battle where injuries are commonplace and the spirit of competition reigns supreme.
This year, the honor of initiating the chaos fell to Sir Andrew Walker-Okeover, representing the “Up’ards.” He set the ball in motion on Shrove Tuesday, passing the torch to Pete Mellor, a lifelong “Down’ard” and plumbing engineer, who will restart the fray on Ash Wednesday. These aren’t just ceremonial roles; they’re symbolic of a deep-rooted division that defines the town.
The objective is deceptively simple: score the ball at the opposing team’s goal, located three miles apart. The Up’ards strive for the Sturston goal to the east, while the Down’ards relentlessly pursue the Clifton goal to the west. But simplicity belies the brutal reality of the game, a chaotic surge of bodies and relentless pursuit.
Play unfolds across the town and surrounding countryside, a swirling mass of players known as a “hug” – a scrum-like formation where the ball is fiercely contested. Kicking, carrying, and throwing are permitted, but the heart of the match lies in these powerful, sustained struggles for possession. It’s a test of strength, stamina, and unwavering determination.
The clock is a constant adversary. Play continues until 6 pm each day, shifting to a next-goal-wins format. If neither team succeeds by 10 pm, the day’s battle concludes, and the aggregate score over the two days will determine the ultimate victor. The Down’ards currently hold the title, having secured a narrow 1-0 victory last year.
The origins of this extraordinary tradition stretch back to at least the 1660s, though its roots are even deeper, tracing back to Shrovetide ball games played in England since the reign of Henry II (1154-1189). While early records were tragically lost in a committee office fire in the 1890s, the unwavering commitment of the locals has ensured its survival.
The match has faced rare interruptions – cancellations in 1968 and 2001 due to foot-and-mouth disease outbreaks, and again in 2021 because of the coronavirus pandemic. Yet, each time, the community has rallied, eager to restore this vital piece of their heritage. Shops board up their windows, preparing for the inevitable surge of participants and spectators.
The “Royal” designation isn’t merely a title. It stems from the involvement of royalty itself. King Edward VIII, while still Prince of Wales, turned up the ball in 1928, famously suffering a bloody nose in the ensuing melee. More recently, in 2003, King Charles III took part in the ceremony, adding another chapter to the match’s storied history.
The Shrovetide Football Match is more than just a game; it’s a living, breathing testament to the enduring power of community, tradition, and the unyielding spirit of Ashbourne. It’s a spectacle of controlled chaos, a reminder of a time when simple games held profound cultural significance.
