I'm back at the computer in my classroom. I have time to pen this blog, as, oddly enough, my supply teaching duties don't include any input on the games front. In fact, even when I was teaching properly, with both legs, I managed to avoid this aspect of the job; principally, as anyone who has ever encountered my own particular brand of hand-eye co-ordination will testify, as I am not a natural games player. 
I was occasionally to be found prowling the Fives courts in my last job, but that really was a token presence, and I had no idea of the rules. There could well be an organic change in the rules of Eton Fives from those boys who knew the PDH version. After all, it was that sort of creativity that defined the game in the first place. I did take a couple of unimportant football matches at my first teaching job. I aroused the boys' anger by swapping the team members around at half time because the score was so uneven. And I didn't have a whistle, so had to rely on the expedient of clapping my hands together and shouting. It at least made them feel like they had a spectator. The only other time I ever had anything to do with the sportsfield was when I took a football team to an away match near Guildford. I spent the lengthy coach journey sat next to the bodyguard of the royal who was playing as one of my forwards. No doubt this man was excellent company, but his trained reticence was a little hard to get used to, and once we got there, he melted into the background - just another spectator. Except he was armed and could doubtless kill with a single blow. Not what you really want from a football supporter under normal circumstances.
All of which leaves me with a free afternoon. There is some marking to do. And a cup of tea to make. And some physio to do also. But I have discovered the joys of multi-tasking, and as the kettle is at the bottom of a flight of stairs, I can at least combine the last two priorities. In fact, the kitchen in the English department shall forever hold a great significance for me, because I had my Douglas Bader moment there two days ago. I walked some proper steps with no aid whatsoever. And it felt great. Oddly, it takes me a couple of steps to get going, and I need to flap my arms around quite a lot, just for effect, but it is certainly not the glorified hopping that I have achieved already. I am definitely walking again. After five months. And it brought a small tear to my eye. Quite genuinely. I have a photo that documents the occasion - in a way - but it will have to wait until I get back to the sofa and my laptop, as then I can download it. I have suggested a small plaque in the kitchen to commemorate my moment, but suspect it is of personal, rather than global significance. But I am still a happy man. And am going to have a cup of tea to celebrate!
I was occasionally to be found prowling the Fives courts in my last job, but that really was a token presence, and I had no idea of the rules. There could well be an organic change in the rules of Eton Fives from those boys who knew the PDH version. After all, it was that sort of creativity that defined the game in the first place. I did take a couple of unimportant football matches at my first teaching job. I aroused the boys' anger by swapping the team members around at half time because the score was so uneven. And I didn't have a whistle, so had to rely on the expedient of clapping my hands together and shouting. It at least made them feel like they had a spectator. The only other time I ever had anything to do with the sportsfield was when I took a football team to an away match near Guildford. I spent the lengthy coach journey sat next to the bodyguard of the royal who was playing as one of my forwards. No doubt this man was excellent company, but his trained reticence was a little hard to get used to, and once we got there, he melted into the background - just another spectator. Except he was armed and could doubtless kill with a single blow. Not what you really want from a football supporter under normal circumstances.All of which leaves me with a free afternoon. There is some marking to do. And a cup of tea to make. And some physio to do also. But I have discovered the joys of multi-tasking, and as the kettle is at the bottom of a flight of stairs, I can at least combine the last two priorities. In fact, the kitchen in the English department shall forever hold a great significance for me, because I had my Douglas Bader moment there two days ago. I walked some proper steps with no aid whatsoever. And it felt great. Oddly, it takes me a couple of steps to get going, and I need to flap my arms around quite a lot, just for effect, but it is certainly not the glorified hopping that I have achieved already. I am definitely walking again. After five months. And it brought a small tear to my eye. Quite genuinely. I have a photo that documents the occasion - in a way - but it will have to wait until I get back to the sofa and my laptop, as then I can download it. I have suggested a small plaque in the kitchen to commemorate my moment, but suspect it is of personal, rather than global significance. But I am still a happy man. And am going to have a cup of tea to celebrate!
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