I’LL TELL you about Mrs Isedale’s amazing long toe theory shortly, but first, Mittagong Public School sesquicentenary celebrations are on in May and this got me thinking about all the fun we had playing sport there, back in the middle of last century.
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THE girls played games like vigoro and tunnel ball, an interesting contest between two teams rolling a heavy leather medicine ball down through their outstretched legs from the front of the line to the back, with the last girl collecting the ball then running to the front to continue the process. Good healthy, sweaty fun and not a computer, Ipad or smartphone in sight.
The girls also played netball, or was it basketball without a back-board? Not sure.
FOR the boys, classroom breaks in summer seemed to be never-ending cricket matches.
There were some fine cricketers and we had a brilliant coach in Don Wickham, an opening batsman in the classical mould.
Actually Young Dud went to school at Mittagong.
One recess, the boys were playing cricket and young Young Dud copped a beauty in the groin from the fastest bowler in the school. It hurt.
Young Dud sheepishly returned to class, clutching his crown jewels to help ease the pain.
“What’s wrong Young Dud?” asked Miss Nichols.
Young Dud explained, so she sent him to Don Wickham because he would know what to do.
Soon after, Young Dud returned to class, with everything dangling from his pants for the world to see.
“Young Dud, you can’t walk around like that,” said Miss Nichols. “Put it away now.”
“But Miss,” said a confused looking Young Dud, “Mr Wickham said if I can hang out ‘till lunchtime, I can go home early.”
IN WINTER, rugby league was the go-to game. Every young lad slotted into a team by weight, starting from the puny four stone sevens, through the five sevens, six sevens and the big units in the overweights. Imagine the furore these days if they decided to put kids in a team and called them the overweights.
We played against schools from Bowral, Moss Vale, Toombong and occasionally other towns like Goulburn or Thirlmere, but the highlight of the season was the annual knockout carnival at Camden.
I was lucky to be in a team with Barry Andrews and Victor Isedale.
Barry scored most of our points. He could kick goals from the sideline as a kid and later went on to have an illustrious career with Cronulla and Easts.
Barry was brilliant, the total package. Victor was hard, fast and tricky.
WHICH brings me to Mrs Isedale’s amazing long toe theory. She and old Bill produced a family of sprinters - Victor, Rosso, Duck, Fairy and Terry were very quick and Johnny was so fast he was better known around town as Lightning.
Anyway, around 55 years ago, Mrs Isedale told me you can always pick a fast runner, just by looking at their second toe. If it is longer than the big toe, then that person will be quick.
For 55 years since, I have been checking out exposed toes.
Often I see a long second toe and say to the person; “I’ll bet you were a fast runner when you were young.”
Invariably they look surprised and proudly confess; “Yes I was. How did you know?”
One afternoon, a fit looking lady came to our house to collect her son from a birthday party. Her second toe was seriously long. She was built like a greyhound, with toes like a flamin’ cassowary. So I asked her if she was ever a sprinter.
She was astonished.
“Yes, I was. How did you know?” she enquired, going on to explain that she had won the Victorian hundred and two hundred metres title at high school, then went on to compete in national titles and Olympic Games trials.
“Just a wild guess,” said I, not wanting to give away Mrs Isedale’s amazing theory.
Now I’ve blown her secret, check it out yourself. You too will be amazed.
And if you went to Mittagong Public School, get yourself a ticket for the 150 years anniversary dinner in May, while there are still some left.