the bullied kid
aww man, too many memories. there was this bullied kid - badly dressed, smelly, sent into school in girls shoes by his mam! turns out when it's time for the mums race his ma was so deaf she didn't hear the starting gun go off and stood there perplexed as all the other parents fucking legged it. cut to stinky kid bawling his eyes out as everyone laughed at his mum. kids are bastards. makes me laugh and feel ashamed at the same time.
(fleas, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 23:33, Reply)

weird shit
now that maladicta mentions houses/hogwarts i remember my primary school had seperate teams, red, green, blue and yellow and guess wot? green always won, until we(red) got this cool kid who was really good at sports, blue team were always good sports and yellow sucked so much ass it was unbelievable

ps: i was just a nerdy kid who came last in all the events
(Lovefist233 Bothering Sheep since..., Thu 30 Mar 2006, 23:21, Reply)

Tents and Injuries
In my 5th year of high school the Sports Day was held in pissing rain. So us seniors being crafty devils hid in the common room building tents. Twas good fun.

Also one year during the hurdles a girl fell akwardly, and since she was a skiving wee bitch, everyone ignored her believing her to be faking. So she was left for about 2 hours in the scorching sun, till the teacher/medic went up and turns out she had a torn ligament.

Hahaha well she deserved it, right little bitch she was. Also i almost hit her with a javelin, whilst she was lying down.
(Pfft_Of_Course_We_Graduated_COCK_Beer?, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 23:14, Reply)

Aww
Back in the Primary School days Sports day was so exciting :) I remember us all being lined up for the 100m sprint in our white t-shirts, black shorts and weird P.E pumps. As soon as the whistle went off, I raced ahead and was looking like a definite winner......but then I stopped, looked back......and waited, for my childhood sweetheart of the time.

I was a regular junior casanova ey. :)
(Glomp Fuck, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 23:06, Reply)

*shudders at the memories*
My school didn't have its own athletics track or anything like that (though we did have a hockey/rugby/football/rounders/ritual sacrifice field about a mile down the road). So we used to have to go to stadiums around the area each year for the all-day fiasco that was Sports Day.

I was at the school for seven years, during which time I took part in Sports Day once, when I was in Year 6. Thereafter I got my (at the time) amazingly overprotective mum to send in the same note: "Dear whoever is in charge of PE, Maladicta has a weak ankle and therefore cannot take part in track events. At this time of year she also suffers from severe hayfever, therefore she is unable to compete in field events." If I'd known 'pwned' then it would have been used. I know that excuse was good enough to get me out of an entire summer term of playing rounders a few years in a row. I love my mum.

I'm sure the school knew I was just lazy and had no intention of representing my house (note to teachers: having houses does not automatically make your school as cool as Hogwarts, okay?), let alone my school if there was a terrible fluke and I did well at something. Either way, those who weren't participating had less fun than the people who were. We had to sit in the stands (divided into houses, which meant I was separated from most of my friends - there always seemed to be twice as many in the other house), and CHEER FOR OUR HOUSES when the track events were happening. There was nothing else whatsoever to do. Mobile phones were illegal at school, you weren't allowed to do anything constructive like read, do work or stare into space. No food, and Sports Day would generally last from 10 in the morning to about 2.30 in the afternoon (longer if it was rained off), so by 12 most people were starving. And as it was in the last week of the summer term, the weather was either fantastically hot or bucketing down with rain. In the case of a stupidly hot day, they would even confiscate water bottles. And the funniest thing was that the whole thing was set up so parents could come and watch, but I counted about three sets of parents in the whole time we were subjected to it.

In the spring term, there was also the horror of the Swimming Gala, which took place at a random swimming pool somewhere in the area. I had this one all planned out. There would be trials in swimming lessons for the younger kids (the Gala was compulsory for Years 6-9, and voluntary above that). I already knew I had no intention of humiliating myself in front of the entire school by finishing last yet again, so every time we were asked (read: forced) to try out I made a big show of nearly sinking and getting water up my nose and not knowing what stroke I was meant to be doing.

They stopped compulsory swimming lessons in Year 7, so after a couple of years of pretending to be crap, a simple "Can't swim, sir" was enough to have me passed over immediately, because everyone believed it was true. Luckily, being female, at the merest suggestion of participating, counting on your fingers with a puzzled look on your face, then looking at the ground, then around for a female games teacher, then pretending to be utterly mortified and saying "It's on the 23rd? Er... that's not going to... er... be... er... convenient, sir..." was enough to have any male games teacher squirming with embarrassment and sorry they'd asked. Yes, I was a manipulative bitch at school, but at the time I was cute and young enough to get away with it. There was the same drill here - the spectators had to sit in the stands, cheer their house (though everyone looked exactly the same and no one knew who was who because they had to wear school colours) and die of humidity, boredom and frustration at the whole thing. And no, we were not allowed drinks or anything, even if there were parents willing to buy them nearby. I think the philosophy there was "You don't want to participate? Fine. Now you will die of heatstroke, bitch."

Therefore, school = evil.
( Maladicta, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:59, Reply)

not quite sports day
back in the day, when i were a yout', in a vain attempt to interest us primary school children about the wonders of ancient greece, the school organised a greek day.

this must have seemed like a cracking idea to the teachers one evening as they sat in the pub on night. i can see the converstion now. "so why dont we make the little bastards dress up in nothing but a bedsheet, wander round the place looking like poor quality ghosts. they can all wear jesus sandals and look like uttter tossers. instead of letting them have their lovely packed lunches with that tasty ham and mighty white brought from tesco, we will feed them pitta bread and honey and maybe a grape if they are lucky."

the last part of the plan was to hold the "olympics" on our school field. i got given the job of creating both the discuss and the javelin, as my father was somewhat handy with a metal lathe. the javelin was a beauty. made from an old landing net pole (a fishing type impliment) and a skillfully honed spike which fitted the screwthread in the pole nicely. it looked lovely.

the discus however was a different matter. haing spent all that time on the javelin, it got left til the last minute. i know thought my father "ill just cut out a fucking massice disk of 9 layer ply wood. that will do. it will have the size and weight that will allow children to throw it for miles."

the dreaded day came and all of the predictions the teachers had made came true. even the pitta breads tasted like a stale imitation of the jesus sandal i was happily wearing. the afternoon came and hurray the olympics had arrived.

i failed miserably in both the long and the standing jump (jesus sandals arent exactly nike 's best effort and definately not for the explosive power a 10 year old needs to hurl himself a good metre into the catshit filled sandpit)

it was then time for the discus. oh why why why. why did i not look before i threw, why did fat michele not look before she ran across the field in front of me. why when time slowed down did i not look away from what was possibly the most hideous accident id ever seen? who knows. she certainly didnt. she didnt wake up for a good minute after recieving a fairly hefty lump of wood in the side of the head.

she got herself a week off school, concussion and a head CT. i got sent to the headmasters office.

still, it was hard to take a man seriously when he is also dressed in a bed sheet and jesus sandals.

thank fuck it wasnt the javelin

bert
( bertisfantastic bert is a sleepy bear, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:51, Reply)

*yawns*
sports day eh.
(inscrutable no use in these temperatures, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:47, Reply)

james tiger wood
Reminds me of a certain rugby match I had once.
In the great county Northamptonshire (Kettering to be precise), we had a game against Towcester. Me being the captain (and a prop the size of 3 houses to boot) thought it would be a walkover. It was, unless we count a tiny little thing called... a referee.
Also known in this game, as cunt.
Sent off a player of ours WITHOUT WARNING for punching (or as I saw it, taking a punch in the face).
Next incident. Me on their 22 running stright through their defense. Never before has anything like this been seen before in the world of rugby. Bouncing through tackles. The try line is in sight and the winning try is within my grasp! Only to be snatched away by referee who blows up for dangerous play! There was an injury (which I was running away from) and it was dangerous apparently (did I mention I was running away from it?) Despite the fact he played on when we had an injury. WTF!
We lost 24-21
Turned out the referee was a local of Towcester but he was qualified... so that's ok isn't it. Wanker

Length? They love it in the showers
(The_Reaper, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:23, Reply)

School Sports Day?
Pfft. All I remember was me and a few friends sneaking off and playing computer games for the rest of the day.
(Catfish Ma, why can't I draw? "Because you have fins dear", Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:19, Reply)

worst sports day ever...
Our Swimming gala (Whoopee!) The sadistic PE teachers thought it would bee a laugh to have swimming competitions. Forcing us already body concious 14 year old girls not only to wear swimming costumes in front of each other ( the more confident had on bikinis) but to comptete in them! Love my school. What make this "sports day" so particularly mortifying was at 14 years old i was rather well endowed in the old booby department (you know where this is going right?), as i was giving it my all in the 100m my swimming costume slid down and my booby fell out! no really. In front of the rest of the class and the teachers. Then in the next race (yes i was forced to carry on) i had an asthma attack. Shockingly nobody mentioned it. afterwards

this was just one of many horrific soprts days, the others involved running and jumping and general sports. Hate it hate it hate it.
(elegoo Huh?, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 22:09, Reply)

Racing against Racism
I recall a lovely day back when i was a temporary dwarf. It was sports day and I was in the Egg and Spaz race. Me and my two best chums - Gomi No Sensei and Remegel were discussing which of us would win. I suggested Remegel would win because he had full blown AIDS (none of this HIV nonsense for good old Remegel!!), whereas Gomi No Sensei was firmly putting forward a case for himself winning. His fat little arse was the cornerstone of his argument.

All of this was by-the-by because there was a young lad called David Blunkett in our race who outspazzed us all by not being able to see a fucking thing!! 'go david' the crowds screamed at him. 'Who the fuck is shouting that?' came the response that monged him all the way to the gold medal!!!!

Me, Remegel and Gomi No Sensei learned a valuable lesson in humility that day. We've been great friends ever since and often meet up to go wine tasting. We're such a trio of cunts!
(Andrew Avetoom, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:53, Reply)

looser
i never won anything in sports day, i was crap... except the slow bike race once... the only win i ever had! i was such a looser in primary and high.
(Serbitar Has a furry shit canon called Whitey., Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:50, Reply)

Old Enough to Know Better
Not my sport's day, you understand......my son's.

The ridiculous father's race. By the time in the afternoon this came around I had consumed a couple of bottles of chilled wine in relaxed and pleasant surroundings. Absolutely NO WAY was I going to be involved in that sort of thing, thank you very much.

Five minutes later I was walking towards the start line fuelled with fatherly devotion ('please win the race, dad. We know you can') and the recently alcohol fuelled and wifely inspired competitive spirit ('reckons he's won it five years on the trot and this year's a walkover'). Off with the shoes and barging on the start line.

Gun goes and I'm off like a rocket. Carl Lewis eat your heart out. And I'm ahead. At half way. And still ahead. After 60 metres. And then it all went wrong. The grass track started to slope gently downhill at this point and so I started to, as they say in the athletics trade, 'over rotate'. For the last 30 metres or so I career along with windmill arms and legs, losing control of my balance until the inevitable crash came - scattering the judges behind the finish line and demolishing the front three rows of chairs after it.

Having beaten all the dads it turns out I was beaten by some 17 year old brother of a kid at the school. Apparently at this stage I was pulled off the chief judge, yelling that I wanted to see the winner's child's birth certificate, and give me the winner's medal, please, if you don't mind (in a colloquial fashion).

I was confined to the car for the next year's sports day.
(tell me about the rabbits, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:48, Reply)

Rugby
Ok, I'm the purveyour of utter bollock stories.

Playing rugby, tackled bloke the size of 3 houses (I was but a little winger and he a building sized prop) - he runs on not noticing. Team mate tackles the same bloke heads clash. He gets up not noticing (he's a dim cnut) and I'm unconscious. Really.

Ref stops game, reluctantly. I'm carted off to hospital - No, that's on TV - teacher actually tosses a bucket of water over my head and tells me to get up - I play on. We win.

Nurse doesn't care when I go and see her with mild concussion.

Bitch.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:31, Reply)

oh the humanity
I hated sports day.

1) at junior school, there were only four of us in my class. I still managed to come fourth in every race.

2) another year, we used real greengrocer's sacks for the sack race. well, I assume that because my sack had moudly peaches in it. (I discovered this after the race, having wondered what the unpleasant squishing sensation was during the race)

3) at senior school, I amazingly got picked one year to represent my class at long jump (no idea how... the wind must have picked me up and carried me during the trials). however, I was so busy daydreaming I missed my heats on the big day. classmates didn't talk to me for the rest of the week because I'd "bought shame upon the year"

I *really* hated sports day.
( biscuitbiscuit is in ur garden, watering ur plantz, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:29, Reply)

Another total utter bollocks story
Same sports day - I was doing long jump. Took off, twisted ankle, landed twisted other ankle, fell like a spas, put out back.

Back's still not right 14 years later.

Bitchin'
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:28, Reply)

One sports day
I was watching my friend (who shall remain nameless as she doesn't talk to me any more - she had red hair and big barnies) run the 1500 - Well, when I say run - a spas* could have run better. I caught her at the end of her run and gave her a big congratulation hug - Well, her chest pressed against me was nice at any rate. Cue a bollocking from the evil maths teacher.

Bitch (the maths teacher)

* Yes, I'm that old that spas is still regarded as an insult - no apologies.

PS - Wish I hadn't upset the nameless friend - rearrange these letters to spell her name "Renate"
Oh. Wait......
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:27, Reply)

Hockey - Not quite school sports day
I used to play mixed hockey - usually against my sister - we hated each other (still do) - I lost count the amount of times she hit me in the face/head/body parts hard with a hockey stick. I couldn't hit her back cos that's not gentlemanly.

Bitch.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 21:23, Reply)

High jump... Low blow...
Wasn't a sports day but a PE lesson when we were training for the high jump, our sports teach was a tall fella and I at the time was just a mite. So we were practising for the high jump and the teacher would hold his hand in the air and you had to attempt to kick it while jumping over the bar. Being all pscyed up I went for it, I really did, but alas as i was about to jump I slipped, midway through a kick, hit the PE Teacher square in the nuts, I can still hear that groan. He wasn't to fond of me after that but I think it scarred me more.

Also hit the same guy in the nuts with a rugby ball a few years later (Think "Football in the groin" from the Simpsons)

The Kaiser
(ShizerKaiser, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:59, Reply)

Ouch
I was aged 7...

Wheelbarrow race + glass on track = hospital.













I was holding his legs...poor sod.
( Regger, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:58, Reply)

The dreaded cross country run.
This was a complete joke. All the (sensible) people walked the course or made half-hearted attempts to run when the teachers were looking. Only a favoured few actually ever bothered to try & make a good time. Alistair however, had other ideas.

Alistair lived on the route of the run & had taken the time to pop into his house & fetch his moped. Much 2-stroke hilarity ensued for the duration (the teachers & athletic sorts having finished ages ago) with Ali zipping up & down the line of stragglers shouting encouragement. Unfortunately he was spotted concealing the moped in a hedge just before the finish line & was suspended. How we wheezed!

Oh, & I believe that my friends & I managed to have our periods every week for the whole of the 5th Year.

Laugh? We nearly bled to death.
( Hidden Mouse, Sleeping Kitten Gromada? Gromada!, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:55, Reply)

Secondry School Sports days
They were crap and no-one (Other than the sports obssesed kids)liked them except for it gave us the afternoon off School to watch.

One year we managed to make one lad sign a folded piece of paper that on the bit he couldn't see said 'I will streak at this years sports day'.

The lad signed it and spent the next week trying to wangle his way out of it. Strangly he didn't appear anywhere at sports day that year though the particular bit of paper appeared from somewhere every year when sports day was approaching.
(The lord Boo., Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:42, Reply)

Sorry for this
Parmesan: Wilson's. HAS to be.
(TheHorseWithSteelFrame Self-referencing comment in the third person, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:29, Reply)

The lovely Miss Waterhouse
Miss Waterhouse was in her mid-twenties when she joined my (boys, state, grammar) school, which had a good water polo tradition. She was admired for much more than her teaching abilities - tall, blond, and breasts like two puppies fighting in a bag. She did art.

Anyway, some bright spark came up with the idea of a boys vs staff water polo match. Word got round that Waterhouse was involved. That lunchtime, no-one (save a few odd types) was outside. Everyone was by the sides of the pool.

Waterhouse entered. She was in a red Baywatch-style swimsuit.

Sharp intakes of breath reverberated around the room.

From what I recall, the boys won the match.

What I recall much more vividly, is that us spectators were very, very reluctant to leave the pool at the end of the match. We all wanted to see her get out of the pool in her resplendently moist glory. After five minutes of hectoring, the teachers hauled us all out on pain of detention.

Funnily enough, there wasn't a staff vs boys match the next year. Can't imagine why.
( Parmesan Quality b4 Quantity, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 20:14, Reply)

sweet disruption
when i was a kid our house backed onto the playing field of my sister's junior school. i was in a private school (well known in coventry, boo) and we got longer summer holidays than all the normal schools, so being 15, and bored, i decided to watch my sister's sports day thru the back garden railings. it was a bit crap, so i livened it up a bit by tipping three boxes each containg 100 of those giant chewy/fizzy refresher sweet things* (i forget the name but they were pink and full of E numbers) over the railings. the anarchy as 150 little kids abandoned the races was hilarious, especially when the teachers ran round peeping on whistles as they all started fighting

*our nan worked at some packing firm and was very light fingered
( nbby notkins, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 19:25, Reply)

Timing
Did high jump. Instead of a bar to jump over the school used a piece of string with black and white foam attached to it, and instead of one crash mat, we had two pushed together covered in tarp.

Not bad for a private school that increased its fees yearly above inflation.

Foot caught on rope. Landed in between two mats. Two poles fell down in perfect unison and twatted me on the head simultaneously, and I couldn't get out from in between the mats.

I later got dropped on my head.

Wheelchairs are faster than I thought.
(thePontificator, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 19:14, Reply)

Somebody asked me to take part
in a charity marathon run the other day.

I had to say no because I am so unfit.

But then they told me it was for the disabled and I thought, hang on a minute, I could actually win that.
(Party Sausage, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 18:45, Reply)

Swimming. urgh.
My tale of woe came only this week. I decided to sign up for the Inter-house swimming competition, which convieniently involved many-a-hot girl walking about in very little. Now I figured it was just going to be a quick splash down the pool, but I ended up being made to do the butterfly. With all the skill and tact of a drowning insect.
At least a dozen people told me that it was in fact the funniest thing they have ever seen!



but it wasnt over there. Despite losing horribly, I still managed to qualify and got to repeat the procedings the day after! Just my luck.

Oh, and my friend managed to break his own nose playing hockey, by shooting the ball into some guys foot which then flicked up into his face :D
(Anduril, Thu 30 Mar 2006, 18:31, Reply)