The Nearly Man
I wasn’t born to be an athlete.
Short, fat, blind as a bat—three things that don’t exactly scream “sporting prowess.” And yet, I’ve had my moments. Some tragic, some triumphant (ish), all of them very, very real. From football humiliation to a snooker miracle, here are the not-so-greatest hits of my sporting life.
The Causton Hawks Debut (and Farewell)
My official football debut came with the Causton Hawks—a team formed for boys lacking anything resembling footballing talent. If you had a first touch like a trampoline and ran like you’d soiled yourself, you were in. I was about 5th or 6th choice keeper, so when I found myself in the starting lineup one Saturday, I could only assume half the team had been struck down with food poisoning.
In goal, I actually saved a penalty. Cue cheers. Then, needing to add flair, I rolled theatrically across the box, smacked my head on the post, dropped the ball, and watched it roll into the net. The gaffer moved me outfield for the second half. I scored. In the wrong goal. 2–0 down. Subbed off. Never played again.
Basketball Hope, Stolen Glory (and Ball)
Channel 4 brought American basketball to the UK in the ’80s. I loved it. Got a red, white and blue ball for Christmas and brought it to school. Mr. McNally, our PE teacher, only added me to the squad because he needed my ball. We lost our only match. I never played a minute. The ball vanished shortly after. I was cut from the team. Coincidence?
Football Trials and Tea Time Tragedy
Tried out for the school football team in 1985. Had a blinder in goal. Then I heard shouting—it was my sister, reminding me I was late for tea. I left mid-match. Never made the team.
Double Sending Off Record (1985)
Football House Cup
Wolsey vs Constable. My team? A mix of smokers, geeks, and lads who thought “fitness” was a boy band. Ian McKinnon bore down on goal. I flattened him. Red card. At least he didn’t score.
Rugby House Cup
I hate rugby. I hated it even more after being sent off for scrapping with Julian Dessaur. Sent off in both the football and rugby house cups in the same academic year. A record? Quite possibly.
Snooker Glory: Break of 37 (1991)
I was a stand-in for the Labour Club’s snooker team. My opponent looked like Joe Davis’ ghost. Out of boredom, I smashed open the reds. One thing led to another—red, black, red, black, pint, Scampi Nik Naks—and I ended with a break of 37. I won the frame. I was never picked again. Reason? I didn’t drive. I told the captain where he could put his cue.
Germany 1997: International Humiliation
Weekend trip to Amsterdam and Wesel. We played a semi-pro German side. We were a pub team. Result? 13–0. I let in 6 as goalie, missed a penalty, made one blinding save. Still got Man of the Match. Prize? A bottle of wine, half-inched from a German service station.
Golfing Genius (Briefly) – 2003
Played Purdis Heath’s 9-hole with some workmates. Won the last hole, so had the honour on the par 3. Four people watching. Ball soared. Landed 5 feet from the pin. Felt like Faldo. Smiles all round. Then I 3-putted.
Final Whistle: A Life on the Fringe
That’s it. My sporting story. Not quite Olympic standard, but filled with moments. When you’re short, fat and blind, you take the wins where you can. Even if they’re accidental.