#47: Dazzling to Deceive on the Sporting Stage

I’ve always been good at sport(s). Never great. But always displaying at least a modicum of talent in a variety of activities, such as football (/soccer), cricket, athletics, swimming, table-tennis, pool and golf.

On occasion, though, a spark of greatness would shoot to the fore when I least expected. Making me think, if only. If only I’d been able to transform that ‘good’-ness into something a little more consistent, how different my life direction could have been.

The cross-country trial race I mentioned in a recent post – where I finished 6^th out of 50 – is an example. A race where I had seemingly no form going in, but got stuck in and excelled.

Then, as a sprinter, coming third in the 100m trials and qualifying to compete for Holywell in the esteemed Town Sports competition.

People knew I was nippy on the football pitch, but that had never translated into anything of note on the track. Until one year in around Grade 5, when I ran out-of-my-skin and kept first and second in sight. A Top-2 finish was never in range, but I comfortably held off fourth.

At the Town Sports itself, my display was only remarkable for how unremarkable it was. Fourth of four in my semi-final sent me home, still wondering where that trials performance had sprung from.

On the football field, I shone one Saturday morning during a 7-a-side competition at a rival school. Twice embarking on dazzling runs and clinically finishing them off to help us bag a victory or two. That performance earned me a hallowed place in the 11-a-side team for the next big match, only for my hopes to be dashed by a clashing dentist's appointment.

Then again, playing for Shelthorpe Hearts, outside of school hours, I pulled off a move reminiscent of John Barnes for England against Brazil in ’84.

That night, the wily Watford winger danced his way around at least 35 Brazilians (on a team of 11), before coolly slotting home (a wonder goal/moment he was never quite able to repeat).

My version came during a training session at an army barracks (a scary-looking place which kind of gave me the heebee-geebies) on the outskirts of Loughboro...

To read the rest of this column, check out BC Johnny's upcoming book: Chilled Almonds.