Honour of the Line Read Online Free Page B

about 40 yards it became all to apparent that two other lads, both from the other side of town, were getting well away from me. Sadly, for me, I finished a well beaten 3 rd and only just hung onto that. Not only did I get well beaten, but I would not get my chance in the 150 yards, the highlight of the day. I was distraught as one of the teachers, Mr Ellis, gave the 1 st and 2 nd in the race a card which would entitle them to their prizes at the end of the day presentation. Both of the other lads, Derek and Tim, came over to shake hands but rather petulantly I refused. Losing was awful, not getting my book was even worse. When Grandad came home from work that night I told him of my failure and he asked if I would be interested in sport, perhaps even learning to play football as I was now old enough to learn the game. Without really thinking I agreed, and unbeknown to me at the time, that snap decision could have eventually changed my life forever.
    The morning after Sports Day I went to school feeling rather sheepish. The indignity of defeat was still weighing heavy on my shoulders but everybody was great and carried on as usual. Mid-way through our first lesson, which was arithmetic, one of the senior monitors came to our teacher with a note. Our teacher, Mr Redwood, looked rather stern as he told me I had to report to the Head Master’s office. It seemed I was standing there for an eternity wondering what was going on but I wasn’t frightened as I didn’t think I had offended in any way. Our Head Master’s name was Mr Boddingford and he had the reputation for strict discipline. I found him almost a bully even when he spoke and really didn’t like him very much. That opinion was about to change. He called me in and told me I had let the good name of the school down by my total lack of grace in defeat. Mr Ellis had obviously reported me for not shaking hands. Boddingford ordered me to bend over his table and he thrashed me senseless with the slipper, so severely I was unable to stop shaking and could not begin to eat my school dinner, which earned me 25 lines. As if one punishment wasn’t enough. ‘I must eat the dinner my parents had paid for’ was the line. I felt like adding … ‘I would have eaten it if that bastard of a Head Master hadn’t nearly killed me for such a petty offence’. God only knows what happened for something more serious. I can only assume he beheaded children who were really naughty.
    As time went by other lads also told of the terrible beatings they had taken at the hands of Boddingford but none of us dared to tell our parents. We all then realised he only ever thrashed the boys from the Arches, which seemed very unfair. Eventually one lad, who had taken the most severest of beatings, told his father who had gone to the Police and informed them of the names of the other lads who had been abused.
    That October, when we returned to school after half-term, we learned we had a new Head Teacher, a lady called Miss Baker. Boddingford had lost his job and had been taken to court and put on probation for dishing out corporal punishment. He was also banned from ever working with children again. Three weeks later he committed suicide and when those who he had abused found out where he was buried we all went along one night after school, when it was dark, and pissed on his grave. If nothing else it made us feel we had gained some revenge. I am sure I would be speaking for all of us from the Arches when I say we hated him with a vengeance.

C HAPTER 7
Sporting Beginnings
    Grandad and I started kicking a proper leather football around at the local rec. I had no idea whatsoever how to play the game and wondered why the bigger kids kicked the hell out of each other trying to get the ball. I was told this was called tackling. I didn’t like the look of it at all, it seemed far easier if everybody just let you kick the ball and try to score a goal.
    We started playing ‘three and in’, meaning we took