Tenuous, but worth it in the end
I come from a fairly large family (6 kids). There’s an average of 2 years between each of us. This means that when I went to high school, I still had 2 brothers there (one 3 years older – D, and one 5 years older, M), and 2 sisters in the Girls school down the road.

This could be either a help, or a hindrance. I was never particularly worried about bullying, as my brothers did a fine job on their own. Nothing particularly malicious, just standard brother stuff, like kidnapping me from the middle of a group of lads I was supposed to be showing round (they returned me 30 seconds later), or tying my laces together and making me carry a tray. I now look back and find them utterly hilarious, but pretty embarrassing at the time.

However, while they enjoyed teasing me, they never let any of the older lads cause me trouble. There were a few who seemed to delight in doing this. One was 5 years older, what a prick.

Anyway, the main lad who gave me shit was 2 years older than me, and he was a cunt. Sadly, his Dad was one of the school’s P.E. teachers, so he was also untouchable. If it came to your word versus his, you’d lose every time. This led to multiple bollockings, for me and my brothers. He once said that I’d attacked him for no good reason, so he’d pushed me down and ran away. The fact that I then walked into the office with a split lip, a bleeding nose, and several obvious shoe marks on my shirt, I still got the detention. He was a cunt.

The rugby teacher in question was famous once upon a time; he played rugby for Scotland at one point. He was also about 6’7”, and had a major problem with anyone who didn’t play for the first XI in any year. He also referred to anyone who wasn’t amazing at sports by only their last name. This was subtle bullying, but it was cuntish nonetheless. One lesson you’d hear ‘Cracking try Agnostic’, and the next week it’d be ‘You’ve got to try harder Antichrist’. The other lads picked up on this, and would just ignore you while you were getting changed afterwards. I suppose he viewed this as character building, we just hated it.

Anyway, one lesson the rugby ball we were using had popped, and all others were in use. So he let us play football, but once again made us take it incredibly seriously. However, I was glad for one reason only. He taught me how to slide tackle properly. I’d always ended up injuring myself prior to this. He then said something that sticks with me to this day – ‘If you’re going to tackle someone, do it properly!’

About a week later, it was lunchtime, and as usual, I was playing football with my brothers. I’d just passed the ball, and was waiting for a pass back, when all of a sudden I get elbowed in the back of the head, and flattened, twatting my nose on the tennis court floor. It was the aforementioned knobhead teacher’s kid. I was face down, so I didn’t see what happened, so all I heard was a slapping sound, as the ball - which M had volleyed from all of about 10 feet – hit the cunt straight into his face. Now to anyone who has ever played with a flyaway football on a cold day, you know how much this hurts. The ball basically wrapped around his face, it was genius. 30 seconds later M is being shouted off the court, as all any teacher saw was the ball being volleyed.

The cunt then goes back to his mates, and 5 minutes later, proceeds to kick the ball straight into my back from about 2 feet. Once again, this really stings. He hadn’t counted on D walking over and giving him a cracking dig in the stomach. The kind where you end up foetal as you try desperately to regain your breath. 30 seconds later D is being shouted off the court, as once again, the teacher had only seen the second incident.

Now I’m a little worried, as I have a very pissed off lad who is after my blood, and is now certain that he can ‘get’ me without fear of reproach. I’m now basically waiting for him to kick off. This happens within 5 minutes, as he decides to take the ball off me, and start to run off with it at his feet, before lamping it over the fence (which required a 5 minute run to get back), and laughing. At this point, I saw red, ran over, and executed the perfect sliding challenge, straight through his shins (don’t do this on tennis courts kids, it hurts). He’s lying on the floor, screaming as if I’ve broken his leg or summat. I shit myself, and hear my name shouted, as I am escorted to the office. I get to the office, and end up sat next to my brothers, to whom I whisper my story. They’re a little skeptical, until his is helped past on his way to the sick room, at which point many grins are exchanged.

The headmaster comes back after his lunch, looks at the note left for him, and just says “Antichrist, come in please” as he turns. As all 3 of us stood up, you could just see his brain whirring in a ‘hang on, this isn’t right’ sort of way. He calls in M first, 5 minutes later he calls in D, then I’m called in. So we’re all sat in front of the headmaster, an unnerving experience if ever there was one. We all clarify our stories, and the headmaster agrees that while they match, that’s no excuse for what happened. We were each to get an after school detention, all to be served at the same time. He then smiled at us, and said “And please lads, stop crippling the other kids, it’s not good for the school”, and dismissed us.

We walked downstairs, and out into freedom! (OK, so we just headed back to our lessons, but you get my point).

Then the major problem hit. I hadn’t quite thought this one through. My next lesson was a double. With the lad I’d just crippled’s Dad. Oh fuck.

As soon as I get to the pavilion I hear “AGNOSTIC! COME HERE!”, and wander into his office for the inevitable bollocking. He then proceeds to kick off at me, saying how disgusting it was that my brothers and I had launched an ‘unprovoked’ attack on his son! My response was “But Sir, I was only following instructions!” He glared at me, and asked me to clarify. “Sir, you told me that if I was going to tackle someone, do it properly!” Another after school detention Sir? Ok then.

Still worth it for the scream he gave.

Length? Another 7 months before I left that school.
( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Fri 20 Nov 2009, 10:40, Reply)