Clementine Yost| Contributing Editor
It was a cold, rainy night. The type of night that horror directors adore, where little effort is needed from the audience, or perhaps just me, to expect something sinister is about to happen. After nearly interrupting a rehearsal for Player’s co-op, I began pacing anxiously back and forth, unsure where the rifle club was, worried my boots might flood and nervous I might get hypothermia and die here in this puddled alleyway behind the rugby pitch. I was told this was the largest inner city shooting range in Dublin, so where exactly was it hidden?
After messaging Stephen Ennis, perhaps a psychotic amount, I saw the smallest, green oompa-loompa sized door opening outward towards me in the darkened alleyway. Hallelujiah, praise the Lord!, it was indeed my rifle club savior, rescuing me from impending frostbite to usher me down this mysterious rabbit hole and into the rifle club’s underground layer.
Down the stairs into a cavernous expanse of gray concrete lies the shooting range and the club room, where amidst a smattering of kitbags and well-loved couches on its floor are numerous relics and memories of past championships; photos, medals and numerous foot-long trophies. It felt crowded with miscellaneous proof of rifle club’s popularity and success.
However, I had heard rumors that Rifle Club was being kicked out of this clearly well-lived in and much-loved base In an earnest attempt at flattery, I addressed the rumor, asking if and if so when, they were being evicted from their layer. Stephen Ellis, my tour guide and shooting coach for the evening, said they have plans to stay past Christmas. Stephen said they “haven’t got a firm date,” adding, “in no way are we finishing” and would I mind not calling the range a layer because despite Batman being the best, the word layer only furthers the negative misconceptions surrounding the rifle club.
These misconceptions really drive them mad, just ask Stephen. What gets him is that “a lot of people have this idea we’re into ‘gun culture’ or ‘hunting’ and generally associate the sport with violence.” When people see rifle club members doing things like purchasing ammunition in bulk (like on this website here) in order to save money, they often associate that with bad intentions. He explained how they “remind people that we are a sport,” and turning to me, noted “what you’re doing tonight is the beginning of an Olympic sport.”
Aside from the occasional paintball or BBgun, this was only the second time I’d ever shot what felt like a proper gun. I once shot a hunting rifle in the forest with a friend’s dad, not at anything, but I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and I suppose looking back, the entire thing couldn’t have been anything short of highly illegal, in addition to being rather unsafe. He was an avid hunter and would tell me about it, even suggesting the Best hunting range finder, which he said, always helped him to calculate the right distance between him and his target.
After giving me the three cardinal rules of rifle club, most importantly, don’t point the gun at anyone and always keep the barrel pointing down the range, Stephen began demonstrating how shooting works. (Incidentally you’re allowed to talk about the rifle club.) I paid my very best attention and yet most of what he said went right over my head. When it was my turn to hold the air rifle, I sat in the folded chair and grasped the rifle, most of its weight supported by a stack of textbooks and a small beanbag. Stephen explained how I should fit the rifle against my shoulder and slide my cheek against it just so, keeping myself, and the rifle, as still as possible. Stephen had little to no expectations of me. However, I am delighted to report that I wasn’t a complete waste of space and actually got most of my scores in the 10s and 9s, which I didn’t know at the time, but Stephen rather quickly explained to me, are the sort of scores you want in the competitions.
When asked about the competitions, Stephen went into considerable length about the wild adventures of Colors and Intervarsities. Like any other club at these events, the rifle club goes on the lash for a weekend of shooting and general debauchery with a good few cans in tow. In short, the rifle club is neither for the faint nor the straight-laced of heart.
After my half hour slot in the range, it was easy to see how the rifle club has so many members. It annoys Stephen when “people think we are fringe” despite the fact that “we get lots of members every year.” I’ll admit to wrongly assuming it was a niche club. It’s so popular in fact, that last year, they ranked second in membership behind DU snow sports, a club which can’t practice locally and tends to include the word ski in ski trip to denote the likely presence of snow and not the mythical possibility of hoards of yoked trinity students actually skiing. Rifle club’s strong base is definitely strengthened by having a range on campus, enabling them to “run at full capacity all year” and not fall victim to the sways of trending or seasonal student interests.
Rifle club gives loads of students the opportunity to try shooting, who would never have had the opportunity before, just by simply signing up online and registering for a slot in the range. My slot at the range was transformative. I arrived fearing an early death from my bone-chilling scuttle round the full metal camouflage of their entrance. Having never been there before, my first impression was eerily reminiscent of the set for The Lovely Bones. However, after thirty minutes of chatter with rifle club members and a fun little competition against my neighboring newbie, I realized the range was truly nothing more than an endearing fort for these athletes to mediate and enjoy their favourite sport.
As I left, feeling enlightened and almost like I could actually be Katniss Everdeen, I was stopped and my fantasy bubble unceremoniously popped with the kind request that I wash my hands in order that I didn’t get led poisoning.
