Wee boy
With the conclusion of each year came the pis de resistance in the schools p.e calendar - the House Football Competition. Always an eventful occasion, I was in sixth form and was house captain when it happened.

Assembling a team of adequate footballers from a limited choice of un co-ordinated, uninterested, useless misfits was always an issue and most of the teams couldnt string 2 passes together if their sorry, sad, lonely lives depended on it. No more was this type of character epitomised than by Sam, 16 years old, a trainee referee, walked only on his toes so he bounced along like an epileptic kangaroo and loved nothing more than to make inappropriate comments that nobody was interested in.

On that fateful winters day, the wind howling across the hollowed turf of the school fields sam was playing in goal for his house who had unbelievably made it to the final. All at once, attention turned away from the game and towards Sam who was shifting uncomfortably in goal as a yellow trickle ran down his leg. His skin-tight rugby shorts couldnt hide the shame as 21 players and another 50 or so spectators pointed and laughed.

From that day forward, no amount of excuses (including "i had a carton of Um Bungo in my pocket) could alter the fact that he had pissed himself in plain daylight in a highly public situation.

It's not very creative but in someway, I dont think anything else could have been more derogative - Wee Boy was born.
(Eggstrovert isnt patronising you...honest..., Fri 20 Nov 2009, 13:00, Reply)