Marc made me think today about his memories of Seven Kings, were they as bad as I remembered them. Don't get me wrong I had a horrible time at school with bullying and stuff but perhaps I had allowed those memories too cloud other memories that were fun. So after I reading Marc's blog I started to think back and do you know what? I remembered some very funny things, well I found them funny, so allow me to indulge in a little reminiscing about some good times I had at school.Firstly Mr Wilson (I think): Mad as a box of frogs, he was truly mental. A small bald squat man who was missing half his teeth ho took us for woodwork and metalwork. He hated whistling so what did we do? Yep every chance we got we whistled at him, well behind his back anyway. He would throw anything at you, hammers, chisels, lumps of wood just to shut you up. He used to tell us he had been in the navy, had been a wrestler, was it true? God knows he was nuts anyway. I was gutted when he left........sort of in a kind of way you miss a mad dog I suppose.
The Semi-Final: This was priceless. I was the captain of the school First Year team and we had to play Mayfields in the Semi-Final of a cup game. For some reason this was played during school time, cant remember why, anyway we set of with Mt Puttick driving the mini-bus to their school were the game would take place. We played the game and won. All happy and celebrating when over the school field came about 50 of Mayfields pupils, pissed we had beaten them and ready to do us in. We fancied our chances, well the hard men in the team did, so we wanted to stay, Mr Puttick was having none of it and made us run for the van, which made them chase us even harder. We just made it when the first blows started to rain down. They surrounded the van and with teachers coming from all sides trying to get them away from us Mr Puttick slammed on the accelerator, it was close very close but we made a triumphant return to school.
My Dad: Whys he here? Because he inadvertently caused me a load of grief. He got hood winked a bit and took some of the blame but I got most of it. There was a game being played at the Upper site between us and Canon Palmer the local Catholic School. A bit of rivalry always ensued but nothing to serious. That was until one day I come out of school and see 50-60 lads from Valentines. Not sure whats going on I start to walk home when a few of them start to say hello. I stop and chat and the next thing I know I'm in Mr Steers office being asked why Ive organised this mass fight. Not having a clue what he is talking about I protested my innocence. He believed me and I went home. For those of you that don't know I used to live on Wards Road next to Old Bealonians clubhouse. My garden backed onto the school field. As I arrive home I see the old man chatting to some of the Valentines lot. He knew them as he coached them and me in the team we played in. We used to have the keys to Old Bealonians as it got broke into on a regular basis and there he is bless him opening the gate and about to let them all through the gate. A ran up to him a total look of panic on my face, after all Mr Steer had just asked me had I organised this and there is my Dad ready to let them all in. He saw the look of panic on my face and stopped just in time sending them off with a flea in their ear for wasting his time. That was too close.
The Girls Who Kept Me Sane: Here is a lesson for any young teenage boy. If you want to know anything about sex, girls and what makes them tick. Make friends with some. I did. They were the ones who protected me and stuck up for me when the shit was hitting the fan. From cigarettes down the alleyway before school to lunch over the park, some of the stuff they used to discuss made my hair stand on end. Whilst my boy mates were all bragging about nothing, the girls were sharing every detail. Me? Oh I lapped it up, stored it in the memory bank and used it for a very productive few years after school hitting on older girls and getting away with it. So to you thanks :)
The Gym: For some reason they decided on year that part of our PE lessons needed to be conducted at Redbridge Sports Center. Wasn't to bad I suppose and allowed me a little bit of revenge with the help of a mate. There was this machine that you had to use your legs with. You pressed the pads with your legs and as they went further apart the higher the weights went. Now one day this knob head was giving me a load of grief so I swiped his tracksuit bottoms. Not proud of it but read on. He always used to do gym commando, said he got sweaty, so he wore shorts this week. Knowing this I challenged him to a go on the machine previously mentioned to see who could lift the heaviest weight. I went first in tracksuit bottoms of course. The whole class stood and watched as I didn't do to badly. The ego then went next. All the class standing in front of him and off he goes. As his legs get further apart, little and I mean little, Johnny decides to poke his head out. I had a fair idea this would happen and watched as the whole class cracked up at him. It took him a while to realise what had happened and gave me enormous revenge for all the crap Id taken off of him. I never owned up to taking his tracksuit bottoms ( until now) but he did leave me alone after that.
So there you go I suppose it all wasn't bad, its easier having moved on now to remember the good times rather than the bad. It just takes time I suppose.
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