Swimming was not
for me either. I’d been to The Strand with Kevin and his big brother but the
buggers chucked me in one day and I never went back. Thus, a faint heart and a
lack of co-ordination meant I was never in a rush to get in the Upbury pool. While the likes of
Raymond Wright and Trevor Hickson hurried to the pool and eagerly dived in, followed
by the fatties who did their best to empty it, I joined the nervous ninnies
waiting glumly near the shallow end for Mister Charlesworth to appear. The
water in that pool was blooming freezing. No matter how carefully I eased
myself into the water, it always took my breath away. How anyone could just
dive in, I don’t know..
Track
and field events were new to all and quite exciting, as was venturing onto the
field on the seniors’ side of the school, where a running track had been marked
out. Though quick to appreciate that a short dash, a longer dash, one lap, two
laps and four laps equated to a 100 yards, 220 yards, 440 yards, 880 yards and a
mile, I was no Alf Tupper. Not that I was bad, I just wasn’t very good,
consistently finishing midway between the Billy Whizzes at the front and the fatties
at the back, whatever the distance.
‘Like
this,’ said Mister Charlesworth, cupping the heavy ball behind his ear. With a
couple of shuffling backward hops he spun around in the turning circle and
hurled the shot like the bloke on the Porage Oats box. He made it look easy but bloody hell, when it came to our
turn most of us needed two hands just to pick it up. Despite stretching every
sinew and putting all we had into throwing it, the damn thing plopped straight to the ground from
our fingertips. Few made a credible impression until class heavyweight Richard
Pascall stepped forward and launched the shot a good eight or ten feet, which
earned him a big cheer and a round of applause.
The
long jump held no surprises. The usual suspects shone again, just as they did
in the high jump, where half a dozen of them managed to jump as high as three
foot six, which was only four foot short of the world record.
The
triple jump – Wow! That sounded exciting. ‘Also known as the hop, skip and
jump’ said Mister Charlesworth, as he led us to the bottom corner of the field.
‘Patterson!’
he called to an older boy in PE kit, who till then had been jogging around the
field doing his own thing. ‘Come here and show these first years how to do the
triple jump.’
Stretched
out along the run up to the sand pit, thirty boys sat cross legged to watch as Patterson
limbered up and then crouched, a picture of intense concentration. Then he
started running, arms pumping, sprinting hard to achieve maximum power. Highly
impressed, we watched agog as he hit the launch board, whereupon he hopped,
skipped… and let off an enormous fart. Red faced, Patterson ran straight into
the pit and collapsed in the sand, leaving the boys of 1A1 and 1A2 rolling
around on their backs, helpless with laughter.
As a
prestigious modern school with all the necessary facilities, Upbury Manor was
chosen to host an inter schools athletics event.
Some
of our athletes appeared in the local paper…
 |
| Unknown, Paul Parker, Stephen Clay |
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