I saw a photo the other day of the junior school play I was in back in 1980, but I can’t remember a thing about that play. Ah Chesworth, with your yellow doors and classrooms divided by curtains. Here’s something I do remember:Chesworth 1977 or 1978 and me and David Wood, who’s my best friend at school, hatch this plan where we must spend the day hopping on one foot and the leg that we're not hopping on isn’t allowed to touch the floor. A harmless enough plan, perhaps even a brilliant one. By first break this plan is gaining momentum. As we hop to the first break other kids in the class are joining in. There must be about 10 of us hopping by the time we head back to the class. By lunchtime it’s become a craze. As we bob up and down en-masse towards the hallway to collect our coats, a teacher comes charging over, demanding us to stop. Her adult mind, perhaps tainted by disappointment, hints of tragedy, with a little bitterness and paranoia thrown in, is not clear enough to see that this is pure fun. Cleverly I have decided to put one foot on top of the other so I’m not, technically speaking, touching the floor with both feet. The teacher demands to know what this is about. Is she thick? It's the challenge of not letting both feet touch the floor. It's about hopping. We’re shouted at some more and told we’re all in lunchtime detention immediately. I use both feet to walk to the detention.
The following day Tim Ottley arranges a lunchtime football match especially for the hoppers. Non-hoppers are not allowed to play. He’s quite ruthless about this rule, grabbing the ball off one kid and sending him off the pitch. Yesterday we were punished, today we're being rewarded. Good times.
I don't know if I've explained it too well but I still laugh when I think about these kind of memories. It's a comfort. Life just isn't that funny anymore, at least right now. I'm just glad we're out of 2011.
