76 Summer Sports

Participating in summer sports, for the first time at secondary school, was new and exciting. And disappointing, to discover more things I was no good at.

Venturing onto a running track was quite a thrill. 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 our games teacher, cupping the heavy ball behind his ear. With a couple of shuffling backward hops he spun in the turning circle and hurled the shot like the bloke on the Porage Oats box. He made it look easy but when it came to our turn most of us needed two hands just to pick it up. Despite straining every sinew and putting all we had into it, the damn thing plopped straight from our fingertips to the ground.

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. I was rubbish at both.

Everyone had a good laugh though, when an older pupil was called upon to give us a demonstration of the triple jump. Sitting cross legged along the run up, we watched intently as our demonstrator began his run up… then rolled about in hysterics when he let off a loud fart on the take off board and ran red faced into the sand pit.

Others did much better. Twydall boys Paul Parker (centre) and Stephen Clay (right) excelled on the running track and represented Upbury in an athletics meeting one evening.