The St Andrews Challenge: Hidden in Plain Sight

The highlight of the clay pigeon calendar and precursor to Welly Ball returned to St Andrews

Ever wondered what was occurring on the morning of Welly Ball? While the rest of St Andrews applies the last of their fake tan and debates dinner suit versus tux, somewhere just outside Leuchars, 300 students participate in the St Andrews Challenge.

Hosted each year at the Scottish Clay Shooting Centre by the St Andrews Clay Pigeon Shooting Club, the Challenge is the UK’s largest university clay pigeon shooting event. 

It’s one of those St Andrews secrets hiding in plain sight. Ask most students what happens on the morning of the ball, and they would shrug, but for the shooters, it’s the heart of the weekend — the real start to Welly. 

At 7:45am, the first teams began arriving for check-in, clad in tweed and gilets, ready for the jam-packed day. It was an early start, but spirits were high — and if the ‘friendly’ banter between teams was anything to go off, then so, it seemed, were the stakes. 

This year, teams from seventeen universities made the trip north to compete. The Challenge’s reputation stretches far beyond Fife, attracting the likes of Exeter, Durham, and Edinburgh. It’s become the premier student shooting event in the UK, and a prelude to one of the wildest nights on the University social calendar. 

Even before any shots were fired, the atmosphere in St Andrews had already shifted. The evening before the shoot, the Clay committee hosted a pre-tournament social on the town, giving teams a chance to mingle before the competition began. 

“It’s a good way to break the ice,” said club secretary Lily Algate. “We see a lot of these faces throughout the year, so it’s great to catch up before the big day.” 

Founded in 1854, the St Andrews Clay Pigeon Shooting Club is one of the oldest university societies in Britain. Over the decades, it has evolved into a large club, responsible for organising this now national competition. 

Teams from all corners of the country make a full weekend of it, shooting by day and Welly-Balling by night. The overlap is part of the event’s charm: what could be more St Andrews than swapping gun cartridges for cufflinks? 

The camaraderie between universities was clear, though not without its competitive edge. Algate grinned as she recalled one interaction: “The Exeter ladies told us, ‘Good luck beating Exeter!’ when they were sitting on 14 points [...] friendly competition, of course.” 

This year, the event ran like clockwork, largely thanks to the tireless efforts of Vice President Megan Hewitt, who received high praise from her fellow committee members. 

“We definitely learned from last year,” said Hewitt. “We redid the timesheets and, well, trimmed the guest list a little. Some of the rowdier teams got a year off,” she laughed, adding, “I’m a big believer in retribution. They’ll be back next year once they’ve redeemed themselves.” 

Hewitt did not name the universities left off the list but hinted their absence had made the event calmer. “It’s the same size as last year,” added Algate, “but it’s all running smoother. All credit to Megan.” 

The competition displayed the best of amateur shooting and banter alike. “It’s very, very good fun as always,” said men’s captain Elliot Wright. “It’s nice to see all the different unis coming up and having fun. We’ve got some really strong teams this year.” 

Among the competitors was Rohan Thandi, the club’s postgraduate representative, who had previously shot for Durham before moving north for his Master’s. He admitted that the St Andrews club was more open, more welcoming, and — he added with a grin — “a lot more fun.” 

President Henry Tebbutt summed it up simply: “Chaos,” he called it, “but brilliant chaos.” 

Treasurer James Barable joked that his performance “wasn’t his best”, and that hitting half was “alright.” It was an attitude shared across the range.  

By late afternoon, the last clays were shattered, and attention turned to the next target: Welly Ball. Within hours, the same shooters, now scrubbed up and suited, were filing into Fallside Mill. 

As the afternoon light faded, talk turned to the night ahead. Barable smiled knowingly and said simply that he expected they would “get it unbelievably wrong,” a statement that neatly captured the spirit of the day. 

The moment the shooting ended, it was straight into black tie. The men often finished late, tying bow ties in the dark while the women rushed home to get ready. Then everyone piled onto buses and joined the rest of St Andrews, most of whom, as Tebbutt put it, “had no idea this was happening.” 

Although Welly Ball began as the shooting club’s own ball, it is now organised by a separate committee. Barable acknowledged the split made sense; no one wanted to run a 2000-person ball and a national shooting competition in the same weekend. Still, he said it would be nice to see a little more overlap. Relations, he added, were strong, with good correspondence between the club and Welly Ball president Eva Shrimpton, who had been supportive throughout. 

Despite composing half of Welly Ball’s guest list, the shooters rarely crossed paths with the dinner crowd. Instead, they were tucked away in a separate section of the venue — “in the tent, where they keep the animals,” Tebbutt joked. Self-proclaimed animals, he clarified, since that was where the club handed out prizes before being released into the chaos.

One thing likely to stay under control, though, is the infamous food fight, which was finally banned after years of frustration from the venue. Hewitt confirmed it was “not exactly popular with the venue,” while Tebbutt admitted that it had been “pretty chaotic last year,” and “a bit much.” Both agreed that the decision to call it off was probably for the best. 

The Challenge might be St Andrews’ best-kept secret, and perhaps that is the real allure of Welly Ball: the hundreds of unfamiliar faces in the town where everyone normally knows everybody. Among the Henry Cavendishes studying PPE at Durham and the ExeRAH girls in matching tweed lay the reason St Andrews’ biggest night felt so big. It wasn’t just a ball; it was the afterparty to Britain’s largest student shooting event. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the first shot of Welly Ball weekend wasn’t poured, it was fired. 

Illustration by Eve Fishman