over much aboutthe conventional. He did things quite spontaneous!/. A situation arose during the game when Wall/ Balcomb, our scrum half(and there wasn't much of him at the time),came round the side ofthe scrum and ran into the ample form of Bill Pa/n, who prompt!/ picked him and the ball up together, and set off in the direction of the Kearsne/ goal line. It was an act so total!/ unexpected that there was a roar of laughter around the ground. Then sudden!/ the Kearsne/ bo/s realised that Bill would score a tr/ with Wall/ in his arms. John Barratt, a strong running centre and a dead!/ tackier, went into Bill, and carried him. Wall/, ball and all. Into touch, where the whole parcel was dul/ dumped, much to Bill's amusement. In one of those Old Crock games, Harold Sulin, a former sprint champion, pla/ing on the wing, was being sent round to the posts to score a tr/, when John Barratt decided to halt his progress. It was near the dead ball line that John and Harold met, and poor Harold was carried well into a grit pit that used to be at the back of the field. That night Harold hobbled about on crutches, and for weeks felt the effects of that tackle. On one occasion, a game between Past and Present seemed to be carried on well Into the twilight. No-one believed that the referee's watch had stopped. He was accused of prolonging the game until the school team had drawn level! The old Kearsne/ field (note the singular) was hard. Bruises were man/. Elbows, knees and hips were often grazed. Sister Edwards and later Sister Attlee were kept bus/ with iodine and flavin, as the lads hopped about in the sickroom. Keeping the bo/s fit, and piecing together a team in those earl/ da/s when there were fewer than 70 bo/s from the prep to the matric was no eas/ matter. But there was unbounded enthusiasm, and that counts for a great deal. The masters, particular!/ Mr. Reece, Mr. Oram, m/self, and, while he was with us, Mr. Purdon,turned out regular!/for practices. How the seniors en|o/ed this. It was the on!/ chance the/ had of settling the old score the/ might have built up. The bo/s would tear into their superiors if the/ got the siightest chance. The masters usuail/ gave as good as the/ got, It was all In a good cause. Mr. Oram, alwa/s light, once during a practice game came bounding along with the ball. Taken in a heav/ tackle out to touch, he flapped his arms as he went sailing through the air,sa/ing "aeroplanes now". He was alwa/s a game pla/er. Masters pla/ed in the school team when our opponents were men. In the Weber Cup competition with Stanger, Eshowe and Empangeni,we enjo/ed man/ a hard game. At Empangeni we pla/ed one match in heav/ rain on the railwa/ field covered in thick black mud. If a pla/er started moving in a certain direction, he could not possibi/ change his course. Much the lighter side, we used the boot effective!/, and the winning tr/ was scored in an amazing slide which took the scorer right over the dead ball line. Within minutes of the beginning it was impossible to distinguish one side from the other. Making pia/ers fit into particuiar positionsfor which nature did not originall/ design them was part and parcel of the ingenuit/ one had to use when lack of numbers prevented an/ choice. Our school bus was a ricket/ Dodge able to carr/ 10 passengers. It meant ofcourse the use ofstaff carsfor matches,and membersofstaff rallied magnificent!/ tothe call for support. The Dodge broke down on a return trip from Durban one Saturda/ evening, and we got back just in time for Chapel on Sunda/ morning. The hotel at Tongaat did a roaring trade and turned out a fi rst class meal at short notice. Despite the infirmit/ ofthis bus,we risked man/a long journey and puffed up man/ hills, more especially when we had to climb to Eshowe. Then came the fateful da/ when we purchased a brand new bus, and it fell to my lot to drive it back from Durban. Never having driven so large a vehicle before, and having to proceed at a snail's pace, it was not a journey I shall lightly 297
RkJQdWJsaXNoZXIy MTc3MDU5Nw==