As a Jesus College student, I am well acquainted with King Street. For me, the street is synonymous with good food; it is home to my favourite dumpling place, a great cheesemonger, and the best brunch you can find outside of colleges. However, there is a certain lore about King Street that is whispered about at alumni events which does not resonate with the wholesome salivating experience that springs to my mind. Rather than tasty, the tales of old King Street sound tasteless. The street may satisfy your stomachs these days, but once upon a time it was infamous for quenching – or perhaps over-quenching – your thirst.

In November 1965, Varsity ran a piece exploring the inner workings of the infamous ‘King Street Run’ challenge, and chronicling the difficulties posed by those who attempted it.

To explain the feat, students descended to engage in some good ol’ debauchery on the second and last Wednesday of every term, hoping to win a navy blue tie emblazoned with a crown-wearing tankard. In order to do so, they had to drink eight pints in two hours along the seven pubs that populated King Street. The caveat? No bathroom breaks. According to the “oral constitution”, any “relief” incurred a penalty; another pint to be drunk and the letter P branded onto the tie to indicate a “dirty” accomplishment. Whilst “disgorging” pints inside the pub led to disqualification, students were well within their rights to do so outside on the street.

“Whilst ‘disgorging’ pints inside the pub led to disqualification, students were well within their rights to do so outside on the street”

In conversation with Varsity in November, the Johnian president of the de facto drinking club lamented the lack of engagement from current students. He told Varsity that the previous year had attracted between 25 and 30 each time; this contrasted to the measly 7 students who showed up for the challenge at the end of Michaelmas ’65. Asked about the reason for this drop in attendance, the Johnian stated that the activity “is dying just like everything else in Cambridge”. Pushed as to why he thinks the social scene is dwindling, he blamed the lack of life on “chaps just [coming] up to work”. Despite the limited numbers, there was one notable attendee; the first woman to ever complete the challenge. This student had stunned the year before when “making it through as clean as a whistle”.

“Dismayed by the sight and smell of vomit and urine that was plastered by plastered students along the street, the Senior Proctor banned students from participating”

Following this Varsity report, students were seemingly inspired and numbers swelled significantly in the succeeding term. This swell was so dramatic that it caught the attention of the University’s Senior Proctor. Dismayed by the sight and smell of vomit and urine that was plastered by plastered students along the street, the Senior Proctor banned students from participating and wrote to the publicans requesting that they take action to prevent students from attempting the challenge.

As one can imagine, hard-working Cantabrigians did not take this ban lightly, and one student wrote to Varsity under the pseudonym of Borenshall and Marshizer to complain. In true Cambridge style, this pen-wielder berated the “senex impotens” for being determined to curb the “youthful pleasures of which they are no longer capable of”, and teased the Senior Proctor by stating “there are many other streets in Cambridge”.

It appears that no other street was needed. With the publicans stating that the King Street Run was good for business and they “look after their pounds, shillings and pence, mate”, the Senior Proctor was powerless in preventing students going from “pint to pint” and his concern regarding the University’s reputation was left without remedy. Indeed, one publican was so enamored with the challenge that they named their pub after it.

With the tradition being dropped at some point, readers will be pleased to know that, in an act of pre-Lent term stupidity last year, I attempted a more innocent version of the King Street Run (bathroom breaks were allowed). Whilst I left all the pubs and the street clean, I cannot say the same for a dear friend of mine who would’ve gained a penalty branding on his tie…