Sports Team Goes Fishing for Acclaim During their Boston Debut

by Erin Christie

Sports Team frontman Alex Rice carefully balances on a rickety speaker, finding his bearings as he clings to a metal pipe hanging from the ceiling. Despite his position, he continues to belt out the chorus to their high-energy single, “Here It Comes,” almost knocking down the orange-tinted lighting hanging precariously close to his head. Needless to say, the band’s first trip to Boston was a little chaotic.

As the band took the stage at Great Scott, the atmosphere was uncertain: the room had been packed largely due to the opening band, Mom Rock, a Barklee-based local favorite, and many in attendance likely didn’t know much about the headlining Brits. With the stakes so high, there were only two ways the night could go: it could be a smashing success or a Punk’d-level disaster scenario.

Sports Team formed after the six-piece—frontman Alex Rice, guitarist Rob Knaggs, guitarist Henry Young, drummer Al Greenwood, bassist Oli Dewdney, and keyboardist Ben Mac—met while studying at Cambridge and things clicked immediately. In a live setting, their chemistry and masterful abilities combine effortlessly. Throughout the evening, the group could be seen sharing small smiles and jokes in the moments between songs; it was clear that regardless of where and when they play together, they always have the best time in each other’s company.

As the set progressed, Rice stomped around the small elevated platform like a high school marching band conductor, commanding the crowd. He wielded the mic stand, whirling it around like a high-speed propeller above his head. It’s his brazen cockiness and eccentric stage presence—especially in contrast to Ben Mac’s menacing, statuesque stance behind his keyboard—that makes watching them all the more enchanting.

“C’mon, all you have to say is ‘yes’ and we can move on!” he whines when his question as to whether anyone fishes is greeted with little to no response. Someone reluctantly says that they catch carp and Rice chuckles, launching into the band’s latest single, “Fishing.” 

Listen to 'Fishing': https://SportsTeam.lnk.to/FishingID Directed by Kris Rimmer - https://www.krisrfilms.com I can't make any sense Of all the letters you write It's like your pen doesn't work You're so much better in type We used to talk all the time But now we don't anymore I guess we don't have the time It doesn't work any more If the band doesn't work just get a regular job The pressure's starting to melt through your shirt it's a lot Is there something we're missing?

Their lyrical content—largely helmed by Knaggs—is clever and poignant, ranging from a petty hatred for Ashton Kutcher to descriptions of drag-racing along the freeway, like a real-world version of Mario Kart. Combined with lively instrumentation, heavy with reverb and perfect for toe-tapping, Sports Team has honed in on something truly remarkable, and for that, they won the crowd over with ease.

Joining my friends (who had traveled up from New York for the gig), we lifted our tiniest peer onto our shoulders as the set came to a close, carrying her across the floor and onto the stage. The floor was slick with split beer—the perfect storm for a tumble—and still, a pushpit ensued. Though the “pit” consisted of about five of us (and a few reluctant participants who happened to be on the outskirts of our tussling), we had just as much fun as we would have if the room had been packed to the brim. Part of the fun was the intimacy, allowing for even more comfortability to holler lines such as “I wanna buy you a flip-screen Motorola” back at Rice as he ventures into the crowd.

Despite having yet to break into the States’ “indie-sphere,” there’s no telling when their time to shine might be; with new releases in tow, it could be as soon as now. From an outward perspective, the stars didn’t seem to be aligned for Sports Team’s Boston debut, but still, they managed to tear the pub to pieces.