King Henry VIII Grammar School

I daresay Bert said it to a few individuals in different years, so maybe there were several versions of the "trees" doing the rounds, each with an appropriate surname inserted. With my interest in history (zero), and performance in class (near the bottom), I'm surprised he never said it to me.

The first time I played cricket for the school (scored 3 not out, batting at 8, you probably all remember it) Kitty Fisher was the Henry's umpire for the match. It was on a Saturday, so I assumed that the formalities were not required, what with it being the weekend. When I went into bat, I asked the other school's umpire, who was at the bowler's end, for a mark of 'middle and leg'. Fisher screams out from the square leg umpire position "Middle and leg WHAT?". I cautiously reply "Middle and leg - please?" To which he yells back "MIDDLE AND LEG PLEASE SIR." I looked at their umpire and responded with "What he said." I wish. I'd never seen anyone so irate as Fisher. Their teacher umpire just looked a bit nonplussed. Made me recognise, once more, that school life was going to be so much fun with these smiley, happy teachers for company.

I don't remember anyone actually teaching us the rudiments of the games we used to play. For years I thought 'middle and leg' was 'Midland Leg' ie. something peculiar to us in the Coventry area. No-one explained the the field positions so if I was told to go to third man or something I would just wander around aimlessly until told to stop. And as for coaching in the finer points of batting or bowling - nah. Maybe I was just a lost cause so not worth the effort of the explanation. Having been involved in engineering training however for most of my career, I soon learnt to assume that everyone starts off knowing nothing. If that proves not to be the case then it soon becomes obvious and you can adapt accordingly. If only KHVIII had adopted the same philosophy maybe I would have learned a bit more while I was there.

It wasn't just in games that they failed in this aspect. All too often it held true for the academic side.

I think it is absolutely true that boys were not given any sort of basic coaching or instruction on any of the games played. This only happened if you were keen and/or talented enough to get involved with the school teams that had out-of-school training and separate groups on games days. Otherwise you were on your own. Before starting at the senior school I had never had any involvement whatsoever with the game of rugby, even in KHVIII Junior School. So it came as something of a culture shock to be taken on an old coach to Stonebridge Highway and told we were having a game of it. Being one of the bigger lads I was expected to be a forward but I had no idea what to do or how you formed a scrum. This actually continued for a year or two whenever I 'played' and I seemed to run around aimlessly, keeping out of the way of the ball. I often went whole games without any actual involvement. It is this that had me hating rugby for many years, I was never given any clue as to what I was supposed to be doing. The ineptitude of the teachers didn't help, I suspect. I can clearly recall 'Moggy' Owen taking rugby at Allesley Park and doing nothing but rant and blow a whistle continually. Cricket was much the same, as the few decent players were the only ones who got to bat or bowl so I would spend the afternoon standing in the outfield bored stiff. A shame as I was quite keen but never had a moment's coaching on either batting or bowling. From the second year I chose tennis because, although not very good, at least I got a game with a regular doubles partner. The sporting ethos was, as Bohica suggests, similar to the academic ethos. If you were good at a sport you were encouraged, just like if you were Oxbridge material. The rest were largely left to their own devices. It is no wonder I spent so many games afternoons in town or at the cinema.

Recollecting the Fisher anecdote has caused me to reflect upon how teachers and pupils inhabited the same time and space but existed, effectively, in alternate Universes. It seems that the school's perception was that they were doing pupils the favour, by permitting us to attend a grammar school, represent it in sports, etc. if deemed sufficiently competent and providing us with an education that would enhance our chances in life. In sum, pupils should be grateful to the school. Whereas I was looking at it from a completely different point of view. In my universe, if I was chosen to represent the school, I was doing them a favour by having to give up a chunk of my precious weekend. After all, who, in their right mind, would choose to extend school attendance into a sixth day, if they didn't have to? Hence why a Saturday morning detention was deemed a severe punishment. Seemed logical to me. In addition, I was doing them a favour by having to attend the mind-numbingly boring classes that were on offer in this God-forsaken hell hole of a Victorian throwback, more in keeping with the 1860s, rather than the 1960s of pop, rock, James Bond, Thunderbirds, George Best and miniskirts. In sum, without me, and others like me, you wouldn't be earning any wages, pal. You ought to be grateful to me and not constantly bawling me out over minor breaches of etiquette, ink-smudged homework and occasionally gazing out the window on a sunny day for some light relief (pun unintended). Definitely a proverbial clash of civilizations!

It's so true - even in Philip's day and mine! How come the Junior School played football (soccer) and the Main School played rugger? I should say that, in the Junior School, we played footie on the rugger pitches at Stonebridge Highway, with their posts instead of proper ones!

This thought made me chuckle and there is a degree of accuracy to it: Within three weeks of commencing life at Henry VIII, I'd totally lost my faith in the notion of a loving God. (To which some might respond "That long, huh?") Cricket, like much is life, is a very simple game that has been complicated beyond belief, thanks to cheats and idiots. Essentially, fun is to be had in smacking the ball as far as possible and seeing some poor sap have to run after it and try and retrieve it from a bed of stinging nettles or an unhappy neighbour's garden, or the sea. It has taken the authorities about 130 years to recognize this truth and formally call it 20 over cricket or variations thereof. In Australia, they call it the Big Bash, which is getting closer to the mark. I think I'd call it 'Chase That, You Mug'. All the technical stuff about Midland Leg (good one!), Third Man, Cover Drives and the rest are pretty much redundant in 20 over cricket. Batsmen move all around the crease and invent shots that would have rendered traditionalists apoplectic. I still take an interest in Test Match cricket because, hey, any sporting contest that is meant to last up to five days is fine by me. Plus it's always amusing to watch our England teams get a pasting. They used to do a similar thing - keeping going for hours - in early forms of Boxing, until someone finally caught on that it might be somewhat dangerous to combatants. (Nooo. Who would have thought?) Actually, my memory is that we all did have rugby coaching. It lasted for the first games session. They taught us how to tackle correctly. The advice was to put your head behind the knees of the runner, rather than in front. I think that one could have been figured out by the trial-and-error method. They also taught us how to pass the ball. That was "Like this". Then they showed us. I won't describe what I recall about scrummaging coaching. All I took away from it was the imperative to steer clear of them at all costs. I mean, who would want to put their head down there? No thank you. No wonder England turns, from time to time, to foreign coaches, if the Henry's standard was representative. Even if you were in school teams, it wasn't much better, from my experience. There was the catching cradle thing. Anyone remember that? But I can't recall any teacher advising me on batting or bowling technique for cricket. Probably because I had already achieved perfection. (see '3 not out' above) As far as rugby was concerned, I wanted to learn how to endure pain without crying and running home to Mummy. I needed some sort of psychological technique, like a mantra, so that when I got stamped on the head I could chant: "I'm rugby player. I'm man. I have one hair on body that is not on top of bonce. I like bleeding and getting stitches in wounds. I like the thought of no front teeth." That might have worked.

Makes you wonder how they managed to produce David Duckham, Peter Rossborough and Peter Preece

Midland Red, I don't think they managed to produce these talented individuals. It was more like they arose from The Swamp.

In addition, without wishing to besmirch the name of an excellent rugby player, David Duckham was never what one would call a 'great tackler'. I attribute this to an absence of mantra. Or maybe he was just too sensible.

Those three slightly pre-dated me there. I tend to think that they succeeded despite, rather than because of the school's system. As I stated earlier, if you had talent and were keen you would be snatched into the school team groups where there was some coaching. I think Thunderguts McGawley may have the school team coach, although I'm sure that Peter Preece's father, Ivor, did some coaching of the first team too. I remember that being the case too. The only football pitch was on the far side of the school field for the Junior School 1st XI but we were never allowed to use it. When we were in the first couple of years of the Juniors we did sometimes play on Spencer Park, completely unofficially I presume. I can remember being in Upper Prep A and football at Stonebridge Highway, on the rugby pitch, being refereed by Mrs Collins. Even aged 9 I knew she hadn't got a clue. Nor a whistle!

Hi MisterD-Di, Hi all, Memories for me, meant a coach trip, with "RHMS" coaches taking us to the playing fields adjacent to the Fletch. I was not permitted to play, but always went to watch.

Just in case some other ex-school players visit this forum and challenge my detailed and serious analysis of the standard of coaching, I packed it in after Under-13s, when I discovered (long story) that you didn't actually get a detention for not going to pre-season training, nor did they knock at your door at four in the morning and demand that you play. In my time, Bob Griffiths took the Under-14s for rugby. As I mentioned, there was pre-season training that began near the end of the summer holidays. So maybe this was the age when serious coaching began. It has already been stated in previous posts that he played for Coventry, who were a very good team in those days, so he must have known quite a bit about the sport. Presumably he passed this on. But, from my viewpoint, the reason why the school was so successful when I happened to be in the team was because there were some really naturally talented players amongst the 15. Fortunately, I wasn't amongst them so I'm sure I wasn't missed. No, I'm kidding. My absence was a devastating loss from which the school never truly recovered.

Philip, I also recall the coaches they supplied to transport us kids to the pitches at Stonebridge Highway or Allesley Park. They were clearly past their best and I suspect some were probably old enough to have carried troops to the front in wartime. I also recall that we had to squeeze in with 3 people on a double seat, meaning you would get about 70 kids to a coach.