My PE days were immensely crap.
Seven years old i developed a severe ear infection that nearly rendered me deaf, so after a throat and ear operation (little tubes things in my ears called 'grommits'), i was told to avoid sports for a good few months and to totally avoid swimming until i had my 'grommits' removed.

So by the time i was eight years old, i couldn't swim, didn't understand the rules to most sports and was the dejected kid that used to sit at the pool-side and watch everyone splash about or hit things with rackets.

After having the buggers removed, i was ecstatic, i could finally join the other kids and splash about.

Just as swimming lessons were cancelled!

So... I decided to join a football team and was always placed in goal, because 'i had the longest arms', but never did much except stand on cold fields shivering in goal.

Then as the years past, i was forced to play rugby and as i was the skinniest, lankiest, long haired kid there - i got crushed, tripped, elbowed, punched and even carried with the ball, to be flung to the ground winded and bruised.

It was during one game of rugby that i suffered TWO seperate afflictions, a damaged tendon just below my left kneecap, which inflammed it causing it to basically inflate and battered my nerves. It looked like i had a seperate knee and was absolute agony for months. AND just to top off the injury, i got studded on my shin with dog-shit encrusted steel studs, which caused me to fall abysmally ill.

So rugby and football were no-no's.

I didn't give up though, i tried basketball a few months later and burst my nose when i ran into somebody on the court. My PE teachers eventually felt sorry for me and just left me to do what i wanted.
So whilst everyone was running around cold pitches and freezing, i was drawing and reading next to the hot water pipes in the changing rooms, finally not worrying about sports. Happy in my own nerdish world.

That was until our head Pe teacher was replaced by a strange grey haired man, who always wore a grey t-shirt, grey shorts and grey trainers. I can't remember his name for the life of me, but he was a sports-lunatic of the highest order.
I was forced into again. My doctors note was disregarded as 'an excuse' and i was given an ultimatum 'cross country' , 'weights' or 'rugby'.

I became good at running, but got mildly disillusioned/amused when our cross country team kept cheating by jumping over peoples back gardens and fences. When it came to the local tournaments, we just weren't ready for any kind of competition as we'd spent most of our time smoking.The cross country team mostly consisted of petty criminals.

So it got cancelled.

I finally ended up 'refereeing' rugby as the kind of 2nd decision guy who stands at the sides. Even to this day i had no idea what the grey haired ref was saying to me, 'What do you reckon half-offside or is it full-halfback knock on with a centreyard tackle?'

I'd just say the first one and hope i wouldn't get heckled by one team or the other, for not having a clue as to what i had missed?

Pe was shit.

Length - On a lighter note i taught myself how to fucking swim in a week!

I have since given up sports of all kinds.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Mon 23 Nov 2009, 18:26, Reply)