Balls to you!
At school I wasn't very sporty, I was fit but didn't like school sports. I hated playing football, my two left feet made it impossible for me to kick a ball in anything near a straight line. I was however not too bad in defence, I had a habbit of just getting in peoples way, doing their ankles in and messing up a carefully planned attack.

One time I was picked for the team with the absolute arse-head of the entire year. Lets call him 'Dummo'. Dummo was one of those cocky bastards who thought he was a one man football team, full of himself and a thoroughly unpleasant guy to be around. So he gives us all positions, I mention that i'm slightly better in defence than in goal and point out the obvious that a 5'4" runt like meself isn't too good in a full size goal. So the stupid bastard puts me in goal, I'm really pissed.

The game begins, Dummo is running up and down the field like a rutting gazelle. Showing off his ball skills, forgetting that he has 10 other players on the team. I stand in the middle of the goal blissfully unaware of what is going on.

Suddenly I hear my name called, Dummo is hurtling down the pitch, red faced and screaming obscenities at me. I look down and see about 10 yards away the ball rolling gently across the grass towards my goal.

I could have stopped it with my foot. I could have sneezed heavily and the bloody thing would have stopped. I saw this, saw how angry Dummo was and made my move.

I waited until the second the ball had passed the line before collapsing sideways in a mock-dive. Cue a round of applause from the entire team and Dummo raging like an angry frog. Turns out everyone else hated him as well.

Length? Just over the line.
( rjmrjm, Tue 1 May 2007, 0:14, Reply)