Picked Last In Gym

My school had a sports day yesterday. My supervisor had told me that I was not expected to take part and so I turned up in trousers and a rugby shirt. Of course that morning I was almost instantly asked to play football and softball (baseball but with a larger ball), the softball being Teachers vs Student Champions. So, a quick trip back to Sunshine to get appropriately togged up (and a cup of coffee, and a ten minute sit down, and a bit of a read, and a sandwich) and back I came. Needless to say I was awful. During the football I was variously ran rings around by not only the opposing players but also by my own. I tried one seering run up the middle, dodging at least twenty players (again, many of them my own) to heroically slice the ball away from the goal.

Softball was not such an embarrassment thankfully. The whole thing reminded me rather of that scene in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life where the Masters play the Boys at a rugby match and take great glee in grinding, stamping, and generally beating up all the schoolboys. Of course there was no actual beating in the softball game but when the PE teacher slugged the first of many homeruns the scenes of jubilation were very Pythonesque. A la: