Slow jog to justice
I really don't know what got into me. I was standing with a friend in Liverpool city centre, on some back street, when I saw a young lad, about 15, running along the street. Hmmmm... up to no good, I was sure. Then a few moments later a copper came round the corner, looking pretty breathless, and making "get him!" gestures.

So I tried. Skinny little bugger just dodged right out of the way though I at least slowed him down for a moment.

Then I realised the copper had no chance of catching the kid. So I set off in pursuit.

This is where it's worth pointing out that although I'm reasonably fit, I'm also terribly asthmatic. And 38. So I have to warm up slowly or I'll bring on an attack. And I didn't have my inhaler with me....

So I set off behind the lad at a gentle jog.

Every now and then, other people would join in to try and catch him, but when he put on a sprint he could shift. He was also extremely fit, so my slow jog actually turned into quite a brisk jog as I tried to keep him in sight.

I could hear sirens going in the area, so I knew they were looking for him.

It was like a bad dream. My lungs slowly closing up, my heart now thundering away in my chest... I had the strength in my legs, but it was all too much, too soon. He reached the steps of large church and legged it up them to salvation as I came to a shuddering, wheezing halt.

The sirens were getting closer - the copper finally turned up... I waved him in the general direction, and then staggered back to collect the papers I'd put down on the floor before spending the rest of the evening trying to not die.

Sad thing is, I realised later that I had no idea what the lad had done. For all I know he was just guilty in the eyes of the law for looking a little bit dark. I may have risked everything in order to return a packet of gobstoppers.
(clopinettes, Wed 20 Feb 2008, 8:53, Reply)