Mister Potts was an accomplished teacher
and a well respected man, but behind the smiles and humorous quips was a hothead
with a nasty streak.
His next victim was a freckle faced kid
called Patterson, a boy in 2A1. From the opening words of condemnation I knew
what was coming, and so did Patterson, who bravely spoke up for himself. Not
that it did him any good. For his insolence
Patterson was pushed once, twice, three times in the chest, shouted down and
bullied into submission. I saw his frustration and recognised his despair and when
he broke down, I felt for him. His caning disturbed me more than most and troubled
me for some time later.
What looked like rabbit hutch and flagpole on the
field, near the top of the lower school playground was a mystery to me and many
others. I had no idea what it was until the day Mister Potts took us to it in a
Geography lesson, and opened a gate in the wooden fence that surrounded it. Some
kind of meteorological monitoring station, I learned, but exactly what it did,
I’m not sure. In the first place I wasn't that interested and in the second
place, even though Mister Potts had us gather round, it wasn’t so much a
demonstration as an invitation to watch him play with his own personal toy. (If
anyone out there remembers exactly what it did, you’re welcome to keep it to
yourself.)
Saturday
February 4th was a momentous day. A first visit to Priestfield
Stadium for John and Kevin, and only a second visit for me. The match was nothing special, ending in a 0-0 draw, but I enjoyed the
camaraderie and it was fun to follow the lead of other kids and climb on the
wall at the Redfern Avenue/Rainham End corner of the ground. For a few minutes we
had the best of views, until a stadium announcement requesting us to get off the
wall was backed up by the arrival of a policeman.
‘Who’s
that copper with the helmet on? Dixon, Dixon,’ sang the Rainham
End to the tune of Camptown Races.
Kevin
and John’s first match turned out to be their last but I was back again three
weeks later, with Paul, to watch Gillingham play out another goalless draw with Torquay
United. Just my luck; four and a half hours of professional football and I’d
yet to see a goal.
2 comments:
Loving your posts. I was there between 1971 - 76 and I remember Mr Potts. I got the cane from him no less than 7 times during my stay. I was no angel but even now, I still believe I didn't deserve them all. Yes, Mr Potts was a one off. Liking this blog. Please keep the posts coming.
Hello Andy. Welcome aboard. You too, eh? Yes, Mr. Potts was a strange one. My brother and his mates thought it a good idea one morning to walk round the back of the school and come in through the gate on the lines. When they found the gate locked they climbed over. Mr Potts caned them for it. The charge? 'Breaking and entering.'
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