Down memory lane

I couldn’t remember taking this particular photo but I must have done. I suppose it was about 50 years old. This all came about when I was clearing out a cardboard box of old school stuff under my bed. I had been meaning to do this for ages but had kept putting it off. The dusty old box was full of school reports, exercise books, programmes from school plays and a few photos.

The photo was black and white. I suppose you could say that it was a sort of selfie. Nowadays we have mobile phones and you can easily take a proper selfie but then you had to improvise as best as you could. It was a really terrible photo. Because I had taken it in my bedroom by snapping myself standing in front of a full-length mirror. I was wearing my school PE outfit and was dressed in the standard shorts and t-shirt. But I didn’t look anything like Brendan Foster or David Hemery or any of the other great athletes of that time.

The box was stirring up lots of memories. Each object made me think about something that I hadn’t thought about for years. I suppose those years were full of formative experiences, the things that turned me into the person I became.

I found a Latin test where I scored only 1 out of 10. That was the last time that I skipped my Latin homework in order to watch Top of the Pops. I was desperate to see Abba after their recent victory in the Eurovision Song Contest. After the humiliation of that very public failure I always completed my homework each night even though it meant I couldn’t chat to my friends about the programmes that they had all watched the previous night. Perhaps in later life a good knowledge of Latin was not as useful as the ability to make friends by sharing common cultural references.

Here was the programme for the school production of Agatha Christie’s Witness for the Prosecution. My part was not one of the main ones. I think I only had 4 lines of dialogue but the review of my performance was so bad that I never acted again. Perhaps that would have been an enjoyable hobby to do in later life – taking part in amateur productions. Perhaps the skills that I gained would have made me better at carrying out presentations in my working life.

Then I found a school report from my very first term. I read through the comments. “Works hard but lacks the confidence to express his opinions.” That was a fair criticism. I had been very quiet and introverted when I started at the school. Reading through the different comments from the different teachers reminded me of how stressed I had got by my annual appraisals at work. Each line manager would produce a written assessment of my success over the previous year and my ability to achieve the smart objectives we had agreed. Each time it just felt like I was travelling back to my school days when I used to dread the comments at the end of each term. It was hard to understand how as an adult I should be treated like a child.

This photo of me in my PE kit triggered a very clear memory. The day of the sponsored walk.

I had never done a sponsored walk before. The year was 1974. My first year at grammar school.

We were encouraged to do annual fundraising events to raise money for the homeless. I thought doing a sponsored walk was less terrifying than a sponsored swim. I didn’t fancy doing the sponsored disco dancing even though I knew all the lyrics to the current Abba hits off by heart.

Remember, these were the days before Children in Need and Red Nose Day. Raising money for charity was worthy but a bit dull. In fact it was very dull. I remember that you had to take a photocopied sheet round to your relatives and neighbours begging them to sponsor you for a few pence a mile. Everything was in cash in those days. No fancy JustGiving pages!

It was a Friday afternoon when we all set off. There were 7 of us. Somehow I ended up at the back. I had to stop to take a little pebble out of my trainer. By the time I’d tied my laces up – and I was being very careful as I didn’t want to trip up - I couldn’t see the others. Somewhere I must have taken a wrong turning. So now I was wandering down a street on the edge of a big council estate. In those days we didn’t have mobile phones. Also I didn’t have any money so there was no point in trying to find a phone box. So there was no way that I could ring the school or my parents.

Then to my horror I saw two boys in front of me. They were heading towards me.

“Posh boy. You go to that posh school don’t you, you smelly little posh boy.”

“Where’s your mummy and daddy now, posh boy?”

“Come on, hand over your pocket money, posh boy.”

“Or we will give you a good hiding.”

What should I do? Could I run? My mind was racing even though my feet weren’t.

I looked at them both and grinned confidently. “Sod off,” I said. “I don’t go to that bloody posh school. What do you take me for? I go to North Manchester Secondary Modern. I am desperate for a smoke. You lads got any ciggies?”

That was the day I realised that I could pretty much bluff my way out of any situation. Something that helped me get through many job interviews ever since. You can say any old rubbish as long as you say it with confidence. An important lesson to learn. Even more importantly I never did go on another sponsored walk ever again.