Play the Game

Off to the daughter's school this morning for a parental visit to see the little angels do PE. So there we were, 20 parents crammed onto a bench obviously not designed for sitting on if you are over four years old. Watching the kids run around was enchanting, at least for the first 10 minutes. After that I lost the feeling in my left leg. At the half an hour stage it was frankly wearing a bit thin. Distracted myself by looking at all the greying roots of all the neighbouring mums.

By the 45 minute stage the lesson had decended into mayhem, the chaos theory as interpreted by 5 year olds. Kids ran wild, smashing into each other at high speed, richocheting off walls while squealing with delight. Why the heck are we spending billions on the Large Hadron Collider when we could simply wire up all the junior school PE lessons in the world and achieve the same effect for a fraction of the cost.

And then it happened. The teacher called for a volunteer. My Swiss German is not what it should be and I did not fully understand. I made the school boy error of making eye contact with the teacher. "You, Herr Welle-Skitt, come here".

I was told I would be playing Britsih Bulldog against the whole class. I had to stand at one end of the sports hall while 40 plus tots stood at the other. They were and ugly looking bunch with a nasty collective glint in the eyes. I am sure I caught site of a knuckle duster and a cosh being slipped expertly up sleeves. Anyway, my mission was to make it to the opposite wall. The spawn were to stop me.

How difficult could it be I thought. So I charged, and so did they. I dealt with the first two kids, a couple of crew cut thugs from Fat Kath's neck of the woods with well aimed palm slaps to the face. The third I caught with my knee and sent the spud flying. Then I felt something wrap around my right leg. I still had no feeling in the left leg.

And they were on me. One sweet little girl, dressed in a delightful Laura Ashley flower print dress, donkey punched me. My shins were being kicked and I feared my belt was about to give way under the weight of tots hanging off it. I stumbled, they scented a kill. One well aimed blow to the solar plexus from an unseen hand sent me down. I had lost, but that did not stop the little hooligans from giving me a good kicking until they were pulled off by the beaming teacher.

I limped back to my two square centimetres of bench space in disgrace and a good deal of pain. I don't know how long the lesson went on, I had mild concussion. Infact, I have no recollection of how I got back home. Must rest now, painkillers are wearing off.