For more on the history of Red Cards in Dunedin, check out: How The Red Card Became a Dunedin Cultural Phenomenon
An introduction to, and critical appraisal of, a Dunedin student tradition
The red card is a mysterious phenomenon. No one knows quite where it came from, but I like to imagine that it was born in the bad-ass back streets of Dunedin; let’s say Grange or Titan Street. It can perhaps be described as the new, hip, crazy cousin of the classic “lock-in” challenges of old. It’s safe to say that it epitomises scarfiedom. Mention red cards and - depending on who you’re talking to - you might elicit laughter, mild apprehension or excruciating tales of mishap and mayhem.
But I’m getting ahead of myself: those of you with fresher features may be confused as to what a red card is, whether you need one to get into Med and, if so, where you can buy one.
The trouble is that red cards are difficult beasties to define. In common parlance, a red card is the piece of paper wielded by a soccer referee which has the effect of banishing naughty players from the field, sending them to the sin bin. But apart from the name, and the element of misdemeanour, the similarities end there.
When it comes to the Dunedin version of the red card, a generally accepted rule of the game is that each member of a flat has one red card per year to play. When they decide to “pull” their red card, the other flat members must return to the house, willing and able to submit to all manner of embarrassing/messy/downright dangerous challenges. Alcohol is not an obligatory part of proceedings but it inevitably makes things even more embarrassing/messy/downright dangerous and hence is often involved.
There appear to be many different motivations behind red cards and what they involve. Certainly, no two red cards are the same and, equally, it is impossible to know in advance what will happen over the course of a red card. And therein lies their beauty. In researching this most scarfie of traditions, I observed that red cards seem to be driven by several different factors. A key motivation is the golden opportunity to make others do things they would never voluntarily agree to doing. As well as this, the involvement of randoms, participation in crazy and unusual activities and, most importantly, flat bonding (or bondage, depending) seem important characteristics of red cards.
While red cards may seem to be primarily about alcohol consumption and its effects, they are often well thought out and border on intellectual in their content. One such example was a red card invented by two enterprising past residents of 639 Castle Street. The boys made a sophisticated, tea-stained map of Dunedin and sent their flatmates (in teams of two) on a treasure hunt to its far-flung four corners. Once there, the flatmates had to carry out various tasks, one of which involved jumping off a monument on the Otago Peninsula and resulted in a broken ankle. The teams then drew two lines between the opposite points that each of them had visited. Upon finding the intersection where X-marks-the-spot, basic treasure hunting know-how took them to that treasure trove The Break where 639 shots of beer were waiting.
Themed red cards are also popular, providing a framework on which to fashion frivolous activities. For example, one student recalls a Harry Potter themed event he orchestrated last year. Having been sorted into either Gryffindor or Slytherin, his then-flatmates participated in flying lessons on the Alhambra rugby ground, beer pong quidditch, cross-dressing transfiguration and defence-against-the-dark-arts paper scissors rock.
Red cards need not be devoid of educational value; cultural awareness and discovery can also be incorporated. One ex-scarfie remembers a United Nations-themed red card: “I ended up losing some sort of bet and had to put on a strip show as a filthy Guinness-fuelled Irish leprechaun for some random girls across the street. Tom (dressed as a Belgian beer wench) took offence to some remarks about his appearance and got in a wee scuffle. He then got really dark and proceeded to tell anyone who would listen (while still in full Belgian get up) that he was going to ‘f*ck some c**ts up tonight’”.
A red card seems to be a good excuse to do wild things that aren’t normally acceptable or sensible. Another Castle Street residence once hosted a genuine beach party as part of a “black card”, in which multiple flats from one complex are invited. In order to conjure up tropical climes in the middle of a Dunedin winter, they snuck a couple of trailer loads of sand from St. Kilda beach in the middle of the night and filled their lounge with it. The heat pump was blasting, people were limboing, and much tropical punch was imbibed. The next morning, the sand-encrusted lads were left encumbered with great amounts of sand. In a spark of hungover inspiration, they disposed of it by pulling up the boards on their deck, pushing the sand in, and nailing the boards back down.
Other red cards encourage exploration outside Dunedin. A recent O Week adventure took one Queen Street flat to Wanaka for a bit of high culture. Dressed to the nines, the seven boys enjoyed a local theatrical performance at the Masonic Hall, then headed back to Dunedin where a keg was waiting for them. Unfortunately poor planning meant that one of the cars ran out of petrol circa Alexandra at around midnight, when absolutely nothing is open for business – except the cop shop. Luckily a friendly police officer was able to open up the supply of emergency petrol for the boys and they made it back to Dunedin thirsty for some delicious keg contents.
Of course alcohol is not always, and need not be, an integral part of a red card. In a simple yet fantastically thought-out red card, one flat-member presented his fellow male flatmates with a pair of spandex tights and a tab of Viagra each, then sent them off to pump class at Unipol.
This collection of red card gems is but a small sample of the gaiety that goes on daily in our fair student city. While a peak in red cards is always seen during O Week, Re-O Week and the first weeks of each semester when homework is at an all-time low, one is nonetheless never hard-pressed to find fellow students dressed inappropriately for the southern climes, busking on a street corner or wearing a rubbish bag and pretending to be homeless, making sacrifices of health, dignity and hygiene in pursuit of red card completion. Just a few weekends ago my flatmates and I brought smiles to the faces of - and potentially dangerous distraction to - some Dunedin motorists as we rambled down Albany Street in lycra morph suits [exhibit A]. Many a honk was made in appreciation of our athletic forms and we felt glad in the knowledge that we had brought momentary joy to our fellow Dunedin residents.
Red cards are undoubtedly a colourful thread snaking through Dunedin’s student culture and no one seems to be short of new and outrageous ideas with which to challenge their cohabitants. Long may the tradition prosper.
Word from the Proctor:
While red cards are mainly fun and games, such frivolity sometimes comes at a cost to property, reputations and limbs. In order to find out what headaches red cards have caused for the university and our friends at Campus Watch I approached the Proctor, Simon Thompson.
Thompson has been the University of Otago’s Proctor for the last ten years so he’s well acquainted with red cards, although he says that they have only really been on his radar for the last four years. When asked whether anything similar was around in his day as a student, he said no - “there was no game which involved dares combined with alcohol consumption” - and he was quick to condemn red cards as both problematic and dangerous. Not only does participation in a red card event pose risks to one’s reputation, but the almost inevitable involvement of great quantities of alcohol has caused some serious incidents in the past, including the hospitalisation of one student. Thompson also pointed out that not only participants but also bystanders can find themselves implicated in less-than-ideal situations.
Thompson is realistic in realising that red cards will continue to be pulled and there will undoubtedly be some negative outcomes as a result. But he urges people to consider the safety of themselves and others before becoming involved: at the end of the day, red cards are not compulsory and no one should feel pressured to participate in them. That is a sentiment shared by Thompson’s Campus Watch team who deal first-hand with the unfortunate results of red cards; alcohol poisoning, brain damage, liver disease and other injuries. If things get really out of hand, students can face expulsion from the university or police action.
Red cards don’t have to be dodgy; they can be fun as well as safe. Thompson’s a nice guy but you don’t want to be meeting him for the wrong reasons.