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Welcome to the world of the Vincent D'Onofrio obsessed - and a bit of real life thrown in.


Monday, December 31, 2012

School Sport

At school, I was really unsporty. Hockey in the freezing cold was only slightly less of a torture than the cross country running they made us do when it was too cold to play hockey. Purple and orange knees don't suit teenage girls. Netball and athletics in summer were OK if you could run, jump or aim a big ball. Swimming was fine if you could get out of the pool and make it to the toilets before puking up.

So when options became available, I went for it. Ice skating and horseriding were great, but I only made it on to those lists at 15. So I opted for diving. It took place at the National Sports Centre at Crystal Palace:



There was a dedicated diving pool (much warmer than the swimming pool), 10ft deep at the edges, 16ft in the middle.


I was already scared of heights, so I could just about jump from the 5m board, but couldn't dive from it. I limited myself to the 1m and 3m springboards. Pikes, backward and inward dives were as advanced as I got.

We had a tutor for these classes, whose name was George Rackham. We came to realise he was actually an Olympic diving coach. As a warm-up he had us shoot ourselves feet-first down to the bottom of the pool. We would have to lie first on one side, then on the other, and do pedalling motions that made us turn round like wheels in the water.

If there were due to be televised diving competitions later in the day, we helped them set up the cameras by diving down past the round underwater windows where the film crews were.

So if anyone catches me watching Tom Daley's new TV programme about diving that starts next week, it's purely to appreciate the diving, not his muscular young body.


(How the hell does he keep those swimming trunks up when he hits the water? I broke my bikini straps once diving in.)

I looked up George online the other day, and found that he wrote some books on diving that are still available.


What surprised me, however, was that he had also introduced another water sport to the UK:


I suppose our wheelie swimming was an elementary form of synchronised swimming. Never occurred to me till now.

George will be long gone now, but I remember him fondly, and I imagine everyone who had dealings with him will feel the same.

3 comments:

JoJo said...

I never wanted to join sports at all. I hated having to take pool in gym class too. When I was little and taking swimming lessons, an instructor told my parents I had the makings of an Olympic swimmer. Because of that, my mom enrolled me in winter swim lessons at an indoor pool in Hyannis, after school. I HATED it. So I decided that if I abjectly refused to learn to dive, I wouldn't be forced into competitive swimming. That's what I did and to this day I still can't dive.

Eliza said...

You have my admiration for managing to launch yourself off the board at all..I hated diving at school.I did enjoy swimming, until one of the helpers had an epileptic fit by the side of the pool..scared me then and for a long time was linked to pools in my head. I should buy myself a costume and start going again in my New Years fitness regime...maybe :)

You're very lucky to have a teacher who made such an impression, I remember the name of a couple of my teachers, but thats because they had to deal with me when I was naughty ::blush::

vikeau said...

Happy New Year val. He must glue those on. I mean wow, it's offical I'm a dirty old woman.

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