SWIMMING & THE POOL, BOXING, GYM and P.T (i.e.P.E.)
.
stills from the RLS film 'A Day at the RLS' 1953
The length of 2x1 stave was used by Master Schofield, when,
in order to escape the tortures of standing in a shivering cluster in the
shallow end, a 'non-swimmer' would attempt the qualifying test of propelling
his goose-pimpled body through the length of the pool, without his feet touching
the bottom. Master Schofield would walk along the side trailing the end of
the stave along the surface of the water just in front of the candidate, but
just out of his reach. I was never sure as to whether this was to provide
a 'lifeline' should the unfortunate begin to drown, or to whack him over knuckles
should he reach for the side safety rail. Is it my imagination, or did aforesaid
master never himself immerse into that invigorating environment. (Eric Barker)
It was mentioned in a post the other day that the water temperature was chalked up as 54 degrees. Is this really possible? That temperature is very low. I recall that we certainly did have to get into the pool when it seemed very cold but I would have imagined it was 70 or so. I won't get into my jacuzzi unless its over 95, anything below that is quite cold. (MJM)
Believe me Mike it was possible. The pool was unheated and swimming started immediately after Easter, about mid-April. Bongo used to take the temperature but if there was ever a reading too low for swimming it didn't occur during my time at the RLS. Luckily I was a swimmer and so after the pain of the mandatory lap we could amuse ourselves by watching the non-swimmers freeze to death. (Harry Harlow)
I would concur with Roger's remark: 'Believe me Mike it was
possible' regarding the low temperature. I do recall a figure of 56 degrees (in
old money) being chalked up on that little black board. It was almost enough to
make even Doc Atkinson shrivel, although we might have had to get down to
...how come Biffo, in the first year, famously got out of the freezing pool one day with his (slightly) oversized (ok enormous) knackers hanging down one leg of the trunks reaching just above the knee ? And being nicknamed "knackers" for the enormity of said event. Steve 63-70
"Nightswimming deserves a quiet night. I'm not sure all these people understand. It's not like years ago" (Stephen Byrne)
There can't be a RLSOB without some memories stirred by threads about that pool. The Borough swimming pools were part of my overall Director of Leisure Services responsibility with LB Havering in the 80's. Our Swimming Pools Section operated the public pools and maintained School pools. A 1980 'familiarisation tour' took me to the RLS pool one cold, dull morning!. The overall impression, as I stepped through the gates, was that little had changed over the almost 30 years since I was there last. Whilst of course the water seemed in better condition, memories crowded. These included changing in those poolside cubicles - cold murky green water - evening swimming with the 12th Romford, School Galas and of course, Graham Bond, he of the powerful lungs and in-built buoyancy, always able to win plunging competitions as he reached the opposite end with one mighty breath!
I can't remember whether heating had been added by that time. Can more recent attendees advise if the water is now heated? (Terry Hadert)
I don't know, Graham and Kevin, whether you remember this
incident, but it remains one of my more pleasing memories of RLS, Daddy Scho
and the swimming pool. Just reading the Master's Anecdotes brought back a lot
of memories. Daddy certainly did bring to P.T. that military discipline. I was
not a nimble lad (!) and I remember at the beginning of classes being called
into line with a bellowed command and standing there fearing whatever
muscle-snapping and lung-bursting torture he had in mind.
It must have been near to the start of the outdoor swimming season, probably
Daddy Scho's last term before retirement. Freezing cold day, water even icier.
We changed into swimming gear in those black-creosoted cubicles. "Hurry
up!" he boomed. The torture was about to begin. "Quick march!"
We emerged and reluctantly tip-toed along the pool surround. And then that
familiar command to get us all in line. "Fall in!!"
One second of deathly hush, while 20 boys judged whether to play it safe. We
all concluded the same, it was too good to miss. Almost as one body, we each
teetered on the edge of the pool, and looking skywards, we swayed over the edge
and fell in. (Dave Cornish)
Dave Cornish's story about the pool certainly brings back more
memories of Daddy Scho' and the strong feelings (pro and con) about swimming
at RLS. I'm somewhat surprised that the school never did make the pool an
indoor one. An indoor pool would have been a draw for 11+ passers and given
the school an attraction which might have helped it fill its quotas more easily.
It would certainly have been a factor in teaching more people to swim (not
having to break the ice etc.) On the other hand, just having a pool was a
good boasting point when talking to boys from other schools, not mentioning
of course, the fact that it was nearly always freezing!
Thinking back, some of my happiest days were spent standing around on the
wooden diving platform (as opposed to the 1meter springboard) and watching
the arrivals for the French Summer School as they came into RLS from
Dave, are you related to Harry Cornish who was in the '51 intake with me?
(Mike Merry)
For the more energetic, [i.e. during lunch breaks] Daddy Schofield would conduct Life Saving classes and to this day I can recall the clammy touch of the old clothes we had to wear to perform the various exercises in order to obtain awards. In summer the pool was very pleasant and the life savers were the envy of all, however, in early spring when the water was about 65 degrees, it was not funny at all. (Mike Merry)
I can't believe we defied Daddy and refused to budge. Did he
have to run along the line giving us all physical encouragement (ie a shove in
the back) to get us in the icy water ? Or did we actually stand our ground for
once and refuse to submit to this barbaric treatment? One of my own abiding
memories is of an incident following my being put on report. Being put on
report was a punishment for a usually very minor misdemeanour eg being late. It
involved getting the master taking each period to sign a form at the end of the
period confirming your attendance. The procedure was merely something of a
nuisance and meant that during the week when you were on report you could not
skive, be late etc. At the end of a games period, I and a few others who were
on report waited in the pavilion for the master to emerge to sign our forms.
The forms were always signed on a wooden table just inside the entrance to the
pavilion. It is probably better for reasons not unconnected with the laws of
defamation if the master involved remains unnamed but it should be said that
there were certain rumours abroad regarding his sexual proclivities. I remember
being horrified when the master in question emerged from one of the changing
rooms completely starkers. Furthermore when he stood at the table to sign our
reports the table was at such a height that certain parts of his anatomy rested
repulsively on it right next to the forms he was signing.
Ashen-faced we hurried away from the pavilion. After that I made sure I was
never on report again. Ah, what happy days! (Kevin Bichard)
Daddy Scho is irreparably etched on the psyche of many
members of this list. I lay the blame directly at his feet that I didn't learn
to swim until I was in my mid-30's. Do you remember the of 2x1piece of timber
that he carried with him sometimes? He would patrol the edge of that icy pool
with an air of menace swishing this baton backwards and forwards until he
barked out the command," Everybody get dressed. Last one out gets a whack!
" I may have paraphrased exactly what he said but the critical word was
'last'. There was no question of being given a couple of minutes or even 30
seconds. You could have been out of that pool faster than Flipper jumping for
herrings, if you were last you got a whack on the seat of your wet trunks. I am
sure we can all anticipate the degree of pain induced by wood thrashed on
water-sodden buttocks but only a non-swimmer can appreciate the mental torture
of anticipating being caught in the farther reaches of the pool, albeit the
shallow end, when he cracked out THAT instruction.
As our piscatorial friends rapidly swam with ease and at great speed for the
side and relative safety of those awful changing cubicles we flounderers were left,
well, floundering. Consequently, I spent as much time as possible within arms
length of the side rail and a minimum of time attending to the non-existent
swimming instruction. (Graham Alexander Lee)
The coloring of the pool has been picked over before. I
recall only once that it was done and that was when I was in the second form. I
believe it was potassium permanganate that was used and it was a great pity
because I believe the pool was then closed during the summer holidays which
meant no
I remember the swimming pool story but I though somebody threw in potassium permanganate. Perhaps this was after the algae. (David Silverside)
The potassium permanganate definitely came before the algae. Could it be that the permanganate destroyed the chlorination process, leaving an ideal medium for algae to thrive? (Clive)
Does anyone remember swimming lessons held in the Gym? We
had to lie outstretched on the benches, at right angles to the benches, and
practice the breaststroke action 1 - 2 - 3, 1 - 2 - 3, similar to boxing
instruction! Having mastered this, we were allowed into the pool for further
practice: 1 - 2 - glug, glug, glug!
I never managed a width in my time at the school. What a wasted resource the
pool was, used for a single term each year. There was talk in my time that the
Jubilee Fund would put a roof over the pool. After leaving school I enjoyed
splashing around in a public pool and soon found myself swimming (well more
controlled drowning really). My connection with the pool was to operate the
large score board for competitive meets. These were usually inter-school
evening competitions, with all boys entertained to cream sodas in the dining
rooms after. It was then late enough for the pool to be used by parents and
friends. We would skulk about peeping through knotholes for a chance thrill,
but I don't remember anyone having such luck!
The annual inter-house swimming competition was a great day. Did they really fit
the whole school around the pool to watch? The scoreboard was put up on the
change-rooms' roof, and us scorers would run back and forth on the roof to
collect the umpire's decisions at the end of each race. The day traditionally
ended with one of the boys being thrown fully clothed into the pool. I guess
the Head Boy? No-one had briefed Coles, so his first day ended with one of his
scenes of outrage. This tradition probably never occurred again. (John Hawkins)
The whole school seemed to watch and the tops of the changing cubicles and the bicycle sheds were packed with spectators. I was never a swimmer and even to this day distance swimming (e.g. more than a length) is a problem, but I did have a great desire to learn how to swim; so much so, that Pete Benson took me under his wing and towards the end of the Summer term gave me personal lessons during school time - much to the annoyance of some of the other Masters. I managed a full length before school finished. (Peter Cowling)
"... swimming lessons held in the Gym? We had to lie
outstretched on the benches .. and practice the breaststroke action" wrote
John Hawkins. Good grief!
I hadn't, until I read John's message, and now it all floods back. The amateur
psychiatrist in me suggests that I've been repressing the memory all this time
because I loathed and feared (yes, feared - confession is good for the soul)
swimming lessons.
Whenever we've discussed this in the past the general conclusion seems to have
been that there was extremely limited success in teaching non-swimmers, but
trying to teach swimming must be the *most* frustrating thing that a teacher
ever has to do. If you understand Geography, Maths, Latin,... whatever, and the
person you're trying to teach just doesn't get it, well ... he just doesn't get
it ... not everyone does. But I imagine that being able to swim is like being
able to ride a bike - you just can't imagine how someone else can not. You
can't fall off a bike if you try (excess alcohol and obstructions in the road
excepted) ... why can't this stupid person just do it?
About ten years ago, in one of my 'self improvement' phases, I took swimming
lessons at the local public pool. Eventually I could manage a length on my
back, but I could never do a yard of breast stroke. I realise now that I was
hindered by the repressed memory of when I had to "lie outstretched on the
benches, at right angles to the benches, and practice the breaststroke action 1
- 2 - 3, 1 - 2 - 3," similar to boxing instruction! (Andy)
...you fellows are making me remember those cold mornings in
March in the POOL (paid for by the Old Boys Association Heaven knows when!).
Those of you who got lessons sprawled on benches in the gym were fortunate!
Unless John Jennings states to the contrary, I recall being ordered into the
shallow end of said pool as soon as the ice had melted, and staying there for
most of the period. We were not permitted to get out but had to take our
lessons in the water. Mind you I had gone to the Romford Baths on Mawney Road
(no longer extant) many times as a wee child (after all I was almost eleven
when I started at the RLS and a "big boy"), and so was accustomed to
deep water. Even before we could swim we would jump off the high board there
and dog paddle to the side. However being obliged to stay in the icy school
pool until we could coordinate arms, lungs and legs properly was almost
torture. It was the greatest incentive to learn to swim one length of the RLS
pool damned quickly. Once we could accomplish that feat, we swam the obligatory
length and were allowed to get out and get dressed. I do not recall anyone
using showers. They did exist I know adjacent to the locker room (on the left
as one entered the door of the gym I think), but perhaps there was not enough
fuel for heating water in those wartime years.
We were also awarded a 60 yard (or two-length’s certificate as it was commonly
known) when we could make it down and up the pool. I earned mine in a
preliminary race heat and so qualified. I had never swum that distance before
but "anything for the DANES" - right? I still have that piece of
paper. Harry Saville would encourage beginners by having a large broom in the
water just out of reach of their nose, and many a pupil grabbed onto that
lifesaver halfway down the pool. "Try again", he would say -
"better luck next time", or words to that effect. One person I
remember very well as being (and looking to our eyes) like a whale in the
water.
Dennis Foreman (and he was the butt of a lot of jokes as he was grossly
overweight for his age - gland problems perhaps?) loved the water when it was
warmer weather he floated and caroused around with a big smile on his face,
rarely getting out. We really enjoyed the pool on warmer days in summer and it
was always packed with boys after
During a rare occasion when it got cold enough for snow and ice to be forecast,
the pool was drained for maintenance. It became at once a great place to slide
from the shallow end to the deep end on a light coating of snow, accelerating
as one progressed. That was great sport until one poor chap hit the deep end
wall too hard and broke his arm. That was the end of that. I am still puzzled
as to how and why we were allowed in the enclosure at lunch times. (Geoffrey
Styles)
My contribution to school swimming: memories, 'every little
bit helps' as the boy said...: I too did the Schofield 'dry-land breaststroke'
in the gym, which only helped underwater a bit, but it did not keep me afloat
at all. I could not learn to swim with the otherwise instructionless gym hours
in the pool, but my desire was great, so I learned mainly while in the 12th
Romford Scouts troop, who got use of the pool in the evenings or on an odd
weekend. I learned the dog paddle, the crawl & backstrokes, but never have
felt happy with the breast stroke, oddly. Perhaps it was Schofield who set my
system up against learning it.
I recall one school swimming competition clearly, in which Graham Bond won that
event I think they called the 'dead-man's dive' ('the plunge'). One dived in
from the deep end and floated as far as one could without breathing or moving.
Graham was the fattest boy in school then, but he also played sax and had
developed his lung capacity. In fact, he mastered - perhaps already then -the
difficult feat of 'continuous breathing' or whatever it’s called, whereby one
can take in air while keeping air pressure on the reed of the sax continuously.
Few musicians had then even heard of that, which became known generally first
due to the endless blowing of Roland Kirk. But I heard Graham do this for
phenomenal lengths of time during an all-nighter session at Ronnie Scott's club
when it was still a little pokey place in
As I recall it, it was not until we were in the 4th form that we were able to
view the annual school swimming competition due to restricted space. I remember
we sat on the roof of the bike sheds. The most popular event was called 'the
most unusual entry' into the water, in which people dressed up in absurd
clothes and fell in from the 'high dive', or proclaimed verse like 'Wal' (Wally
Walters) and forgot themselves etc. etc.... a kind of preview of Mr. Bean at
the pool. This all occurred back in 1952-3! Can I still just hear Schofield
commanding you all, 'Keep your chins up and don't piss in the pool!' (Robert
Priddy)
I did hear tell that a boy was once expelled for pissing in the pool. His mother protested that he couldn't have been the first to do that, but the head replied that he was the first to do it from the diving board.(John Hawkins)
John H said "What a wasted resource the pool was, used for a single term each year. There was talk in my time that the Jubilee Fund would put a roof over the pool." In the sense that the pool did not have a roof, I agree with John. If it had been closed in it would have been used year round and could have been heated. If this had been done I think many, many more people would have been swimmers. The freezing conditions in spring and the little improvement in summer however, discouraged lots of boys, however, the strong, the hardy, the tough, the never-say-die stalwarts did indeed thrive on it and it developed character and made us better people , and got us into the best universities and got us the choice of jobs, and all the best looking girls etc. etc. etc. While all those non-swimmers who baulked at at little bit of ice, were doomed to a life of second best. Ha ha ha! (Mike Merry)
We also had dry swimming lessons on benches and seldom used the pool. I did take my Life Saving bronze medallion during the lunch period. We swam every day in freezing conditions, but it was worth it. During the summer months we would do life guard duty on Saturday for visiting students. (Brian Coan)
I do remember that we carried the long low benches out from
the gym one day and performed the breast stroke actions (the aforesaid 1 -2
-3's) in the open area outside the swimming pool. This may have been intended
as a gentle introduction, or our first swimming lesson as first-formers, though
I doubt it - more likely because the ice was still too thick at the time!
Passing on from that, it was definitely scary as a 3.5ft eleven year old to
contemplate floundering around in 6.5ft of water - hence the value of Harry
Saville's broom and the excellent psychology of setting off from the deep end
towards the shallow. I have never really enjoyed swimming pools - much prefer
the waves and the buoyancy of salt water - being somewhat skinny I find this
quite a factor. (John C.
Jennings)
Several List members wrote of difficulties with breast-stroke.
Eventually I could manage a length on my back, but I could never do a yard of
breast stroke...
...the "swimmers" i.e. those who could convince Daddy that they could
complete a length, whatever style, without drowning or walking (after they passed
the halfway mark!) never actually received ANY formal swimming tuition during
lessons did they? Not, I suspect, that they would have benefited greatly even
if they had as I seem to remember that "instruction" in the pool was
limited to attempting to push the bar through the wall using only the force of
the breast-stroke leg kick. Twenty minutes of this and candidates were thought
to be ready for a spluttering attempt at a shallow-end width, which rarely
achieved success. I always thought it was just me - that breast-stroke was just
something for which I was genetically unsuited and ill-equipped! The year I
left school and went to PE college I was successfully taught to master
breast-stroke in a matter of four lessons! Do you know, even then it didn't occur
to me to question the value of RLS swimming lessons!! (DGM)
Yes, I remember the workouts on the benches in the gym (very
hard on a skinny chest) and those damned cold mornings in the pool in March.
Torture!! We soon learned to swim as a matter of survival. However the pool was
a very popular spot after school on the "hot" summer days. It was
packed as I recall and there was a line outside the gate just as soon as
classes were dismissed. No females were in sight. I think we had three females
on staff (Bibby, Coucher and Waters-Richards) but they never came near the
pool. I don't remember much supervision either. I did not discover what 'hot'
meant until I moved to
....one memory sticks in my mind very clearly. That is of one of our class ( who shall remain anonymous, but is not on our list ) mas******ing in one of the cubicles. Everyone knew and could more or less see what was going on, except Schofield. The boy went on to become a successful businessman (something to do with DIY, I believe ) (Terry Turner)
Mesdames Bibby (shown in the RLS schoolmaster list as Mr Bibby), Russell and Walters (the wife of 'Wally' Walters). M/s Russell's claim to fame was that one evening in 1944 she happened to be present at the swimming pool after school when Ashley Catterall, the then School Captain, broke the record for the plunge. Her fortuitous presence on that occasion enabled her to certify the achievement so that it could be entered into the record books. I was also there, but I cannot now remember the length of the plunge. It was certainly an enormously long dive and broke the previous record by a considerable distance. Does anyone know if Ashley's record still stands? (Peter Ray)
Can anybody shed light on the building of the swimming pool? What was there, before the pool? I believe that it was built with money raised from subscription but who, where, what, why, when etc. etc. etc.? (Graham Alexander Lee)
It was built in the early 30's as a gift from the old Libertians, I was led to believe. No idea what was there before. It was certainly a going concern in 1937. (Alan & Jan Styles)
John Bailey asked: "...does anyone remember the time the school swimming pool (or rather the cubicles) was mysteriously torched one summer's weekend? See the thread "Accidents and other incidents"
Mick Lee referred to his years at the school and had no
knowledge of any pool heating. I must ask the same question now, and I might
add, not for the first time "Was the pool ever heated?" I'd like to
know details.
Most of us remember early April at RLS, the air temperature probably around 60
or so and the pool water seeming even cooler. That dreaded day when you learned
the next gym lesson would be in the pool. The swimmers leaping in and doing
their length and rushing for a towel and the non-swimmers (poor bu....s) having
to go to the shallow end and suffer for twenty minutes or so, unable to get out
of the water and subjected to the most elementary of swimming lessons from
Daddy Scho. It's been said that no one ever actually learned to swim at RLS,
you either knew when you got there or you remained a non-swimmer for the
duration. Most of the remarks from swimmers, while not all endorsing
wholeheartedly the pool, suggest acceptance. However, the non-swimmers seem to
unilaterally agree it was cruel and unjust punishment to have to endure that
cold water. I wonder why they never put a roof on the pool? It would seem that
such an addition would improve the school's image (I've said this before also,
but now we have many new members) perhaps someone new could comment or provide
some ideas.
In the summer holidays, especially when the pool was open every morning from
about 930am to
When one thinks back, the masters didn't seem to like the pool much. It was
rare to see anyone except Jock Pryde utilize the facility. I do recall water
polo matches were played with the staff occasionally but I don't think this was
a regular item.
There were some excellent swimmers during my years at the school and the
inter-school competitions took us to west to Ilford and east to Southend. Of
course, most schools didn't have their own pools and municipal baths were used.
These were always heated and it seemed to slow our swimmers down! One of the
great pleasures of life was if the school ever had a half day, the life savers
would rush to Mawney Road Baths, where we all had free passes, to watch the RCH
girls take their swimming lessons. Ah, Happy Memories! (Mike Merry)
A perfect score on dry-air swim practice did not seem to help in the water. It was similar with boxing practice. One could do a perfect "advance, one, two" before being knocked to the floor by some unruly youth who got all the points! (John Hawkins)
Because we like to support and keep all members informed of absolutely true facts about our previous seat of learning, I personally visited the pool to determine the event during the school visit with Vince in July. Vince may even have the event indelibly recorded in electrobytes. From my report of 6 July: 4, the swimming pool seemed larger than I remembered. It is heated. The cubicles have no doors as the boys change in the room opposite. The cubicles are used to keep towels. At the deep end, I noticed a charred window frame and in the last cubicle there was a secret message carved in the wall. MM L JA (David Silverside)
There never was any heating during the time I was at the school. Swimming commenced immediately after Easter which meant swimming in March some times. Funny how swimming is one of the most memorable events of RLS life. No one has mentioned the supreme torture - the rope. Harry Saville would put a canvas noose on the end of a rope around a non swimmer’s torso and pull him into the deep end. When he was more than arms length from the edge the rope would go slack. You had to swim or drown. Most buys learnt very quickly (Eddie Pond)
I remember that one of the events was called the plunge. You
had to dive in and stay face down for as long as you could. The one who
travelled the furthest won the event.
There was a big fat guy in the school (whose name I can't remember). He was a
crap swimmer but he always won the plunge, presumably because he had the most
momentum (from what I remember of physics is momentum mass times acceleration?)
So his mass was a great asset. (John 'Mac' McCarthy)
We too had a "plunge" expert of similar build, in the shape of the late Graham Bond (Roman) who achieved some musical fame after leaving school in 1956. His staying ability may have been due not only to his build but also to his lung capacity from playing the saxophone. He won this event two or three years running and was also a great one for amateur dramatics - seemed to be in most of the school or house competition plays. Romans always seemed to win the latter, in my day! (Barry Kraushaar)
There were also 'swimming hats' in several pastel colours, esp. cream - these being thin rubber things like half of a balloon. Perhaps they are still in use, I wouldn't know. There was often a smell of creosote, eg. when the sun was out, around the swimming pool, from the wooden fencing and walls.
Boys sometimes made a wave machine... lined up along the rail at the shallow end, by moving bodies back and forth together, a sizeable wave could be generated across the pool.
Scho openly warned us not to piss in the pool, for then we might find ourselves drinking it too. (Robert Priddy)
Robert P. mentioned the wave at the pool. You had to brave the chlorine spouting pipe in the shallow end to get the wave going. Once it was started however, it was very impressive. More impressive still was when the CCF RAF blokes received permission to launch their dingy during the Saturday morning swim sessions. It was huge! Under the cover of learning about getting in and out of a rescue vessel, great fun could be had with this large yellow raft. It's been said before but I don't believe there were any really serious accidents in the pool during my years anyway and according to other younger members, during theirs. The life-saving courses were fun. The down side was pulling on the clothes that were required when they were wet and cold during the lunch time training sessions. (Mike Merry)
BOXING
A recap of the Daddy Scho-sponsored boxing tournament: Those
of us old enough will recall how "early rounds" of the "voluntary"
tournament (from which no-one, it transpired, could be excused!!) took
place within PE lessons: The "ring" consisted of four gym benches,
"seconds" were any currently unemployed, press-ganged senior
boys, the audience consisted of the other members of your class all sitting
subdued and silent, dreading their own turn and, if you were fortunate,
you were matched against a member of your class who happened to be approximately
the same weight - at least that kept any ignominies "in the family".
If you were UN-fortunate - or if you progressed through the draw - you
might be called out of any other class to perform against an equally (or
more) successful opponent during HIS PE lesson (and have to face a barrage
of hostility and abuse from a rival class).
Worst of all, if the tournament was running late, was for both boys to
be called to perform during an older class's PE lesson with the mickey-taking
and kind-hearted(!) advice THAT entailed!
So...a very nervous Mick Sanders faced his first round opponent in front
of the rest of class 1A (TEO won't remember this - it happened in the
days of Don Jennings). Summoned to action, Mick advanced, One-Two and
threw a text-book
Daddy Scho-type straight left - Squeeeeze, PUNCH! Trouble was, his opponent
(a gangly youth with arms that reached almost to his ankles) threw an
identical punch at the same time and given the advantage of those telescopic
arms HE connected with Mick's nose while Mick poked at thin air about
a foot (15cm) in front of this guy's nose!
Already nervous, the tension caused by this new frustration caused a hitherto
unwitnessed reaction in Mick. Throwing all caution, (and Daddy Scho's
training) to the winds (ho-ho!) he hounded the gangly one all round the
ring,
quickening his Advance, One-Two shuffle as he prepared to throw each punch...but
the tension of the situation caused him to break wind each time he shaped
to punch!
Some-one later described it as: Advance, One-Two-Fart, Squeeeeze,fart-fart-fart-PUNCH!
Initially 1A sat in rather embarrassed silence... Then some-one sniggered...
Soon everyone (except Daddy Scho) dissolved into laughter - rumour has
it that Don Jennings cracked a smile.
Even Mick's opponent was giggling - which was a pretty stupid thing to
do as he only giggled after a fart - and a fart was quickly followed by
a punch which usually copped him fair and square!
Inevitably Mick won that bout, although there was an argument that his
opponent could have claimed a foul! And we couldn't WAIT until Mick fought
in the next round...!! (David Maltby)
Sure enough, after the ritual advancing and retiring one, two, moving to the left and right, Go, one, two and a bit of Squeeze, Punch - ing, Daddy felt we had reached competition standard and suddenly it was a different scenario altogether!
In my 11 and a bit years I'd only ever been involved in one minor playground brawl, for which I had little taste or inclination and I just did not feel equipped for the ordeal that faced me! My first opponent was a lad for whom I had a great deal of respect and, on the reasonable assumption that he could make mincemeat of me in short order, I consoled myself that at the very most I faced a mere nine minutes of pain! I could not believe the ease with which I won that fight! Not a "boxing match" - all Daddy's science and training went out of the window as soon as he commanded "Box"!
After that I feared no-one! The only other guy who I figured could sort me out was two weights heavier than me. An added bonus came along. As you progressed through the rounds you got excused from odd lessons to go and box. I began to ENJOY the new-found skill!
I boxed a lad from 1C on finals night, confidence now sky-high, father in the audience proudly watching son finish the third round in fine style to become "Champion at 7 stones"! Hah! Who's a seven-stone weakling now! Expecting fulsome praise from Dad I changed quickly to be met with the words, "If you punched your weight you'd have finished it in the second!" In the second year I actually looked forward to the boxing tournament and sailed through to the final again - to find that I had grown and put on weight and would meet the one lad who could have sorted me the previous year.
My father's words rung in my ears and I tried to "punch my weight" - reasonably successfully as I put him down in round one... ...shame he didn't stay there! He ALSO punched his weight and the fight was stopped, in his favour in round three. Suddenly I'd gone off boxing!
The following year I tried again and he and I reached the final but Pete Benson (aha Andy! I KNEW he was there in 1957 not 1958!) let slip that there were too many bouts so I accepted an offer to withdraw. Ok, I chickened out!
That was the end of boxing for me until my last year when I decided that, as I clearly wasn't going to set the world alight with my academic achievements I would enter everything possible in the sporting arena. That year they were short of bouts so I volunteered to fight a catch-weight bout and ended my school boxing career as it had begun except heavier by 3 stone 10 and a half pounds!
All in all quite fond memories of that sloping stage with adjacent rather than opposite corners! And, for once, the pr*f*cts were nice to me! (David Maltby)
Thank the lord, I only ever had to fight once those of the list who remember me, age 12, will confirm that before my many years of indulgence which have resulted in a considerable middle-age bulk,i was no Schwarzeneger in fact i was a weed !!
luckily I was paired with a lad, by the name of paul farrow, who had achieved even greater weediness sometime during the first and only round, during which paul and i did our best to avoid each other despite Daddy's cries of 'Advance ONE TWO' i must have done something wrong because i caught paul with a blow to the nose {Sorry bad pun} resulting in just enough blood to horrify the pair of us and end the fight. (Graham Alexander Lee)
Totally accurate, but don't forget also: " Move to the left ONE TWO....Move to the right ONE TWO I was always the *second* tallest boy in class and I was always paired with the *first* tallest boy (name forgotten) who was much taller and had a reach to match. He always beat the **** out of me." (Andy Lee)
What puzzled me, at the time,
was how we were reliably informed that although everyone HAD to take boxing
lessons - it being part of the RLS curriculum and character-building and
good for moral fibre and the development of backbone and useful if we
ever got on the wrong side of the Harold Hill Teds etc. etc. there was
no way that we would ever actually be required to take part in any form
of competitive boxing!
All it would require would be a signed letter from parents requesting
exemption and that would be that!
Great! I got my letter written in double quick time - my mother was even
more horrified than I was at the barbaric prospects of cauliflower ears
and black eyes adorning her little boy's face! So I advanced -one, two,
retired - one,two, moved-to-the-left-go -one,two,moved-to-the-right-go
- one,two quite happily and even reached the dizzy heights of throwing
tentative straight lefts at thin air a few times - "Straaaight left,
Squeeeze PUNCH"
How was it, at that stage, that letter or no letter and with no preparation
for the intricacies of a sport foreign to all of us except our dancing
lessons and a Squeeeeze Punch never thrown in anger, we were ALL entered
for the preliminary rounds of the inter-house boxing competition - no
questions asked, no by-your-leave, no excuses contemplated? And the more
impelled by fear you were to knock the **** out of your equally panic-stricken
opponent before he got to you - (where did move-to-the-left-go, one,two
etc go then?), the further, by accident or default, you went in the competition
until the inevitable...appearing on the bill, name in programme in front
of a hall full of strangers and REPRESENTING YOUR HOUSE (big honour!!)
in the final! (DGM)
I too learned to swim with Daddy Schofield, and like Brother Batho, not because of his teaching expertise, but despite it. I was sick to death of my freezing nuts withdrawing themselves so far into my body that I could no longer tell my gonads from my tonsils. I too forced myself to dogpaddle the length of the pool in order to qualify as a 'swimmer' and thereby be excused Daddy's excrutiating lessons at the shallow end. Boxing or swimming, Daddy seemed to have only the one lesson plan and he trotted it out day after day, week after week, year after year. He was probably the worst teacher I came across at RLS in my six years there (even worse than Jonah Jones). I can't remember that Daddy ever actually taught anyone to swim, except by default. I remember also that swimming was carried out in Summer only, and then only if the temperature was 47 degrees (Farenheit!) or above - that's 15 degrees above freezing point, if I remember rightly. I wonder if the same rules apply today.Daddy also supervised the training of candidates for Royal Life Saving certificates. Boys training for these certificates had to
spend the first half of lunch hour in the pool, with Daddy going up and down the edge, shouting encouragement. When they reported to the dining room for lunch afterwards, they were literally blue with cold and quite unable to hold their knives and forks. Most had had to get someone else to tie their shoe laces. Did any of our HMs indulge in this activity? On a related topic, was one of our HMs the naughty boy responsible for tossing potassium permanganate into the swimming pool and turning it a nice shade of pink? This prank put the pool out of action for weeks, but it also meant (if I remember rightly) extra bloody boxing lessons with Daddy. Advance, one, two... retreat, one, two... (David Vale 53-59)
Oh yes...the boxing...That brings back memories of the machine that Mr. Schofield had in the gym....He would be standing in front of thismachine.....it had a sort of leather ball suspended at chest height andhe would be sparring with it, making a hell of a rhythmicclatter...dressed in his boxing gear. He did though teach us how tobox...and it was useful when I left school and HAD to box at Sandhurst. (John Mills 47-55)
David Vale mentions the Potassium permanganate incident. My recollection
is that this was retaliation by the girls of Romford County High after
some of us had written "April Fool" on the lawn in front of
their school buildings in weedkiller.
Like many others I hated Schofield's boxing lessons. I can remember one
term being matched with Graham Slaughter who also hated boxing. We pranced
around each other (like Muhammed Ali?) until Daddy's patience ran out.
He stopped us and told us to hit one another. One of us feigned a blow
and the other staggered around the ring. I seem to recall that neither
of us got a very good comment on our report for boxing. (Colin Steward
1953-60)
GYM, P.T. (P.E.)
You were lucky! In my day it wasn't a slipper! Part of Daddy's swimming pool equipment was a plank of wood about 18 inches long, 5-6 inches wide at the working end, narrowing to about an inch with blue insulation tape wrapped around that end to give him a more comfortable grip! And he didn't mess about with it either. You'd also cop one from this weapon if you were the last one IN to the pool! I remember it well!!! Ouch!!! There was the freezing cold day when I decided that swimming was entirely out of the question so I stayed inside my cubicle sitting crouched on the bench with my feet well up out of the way. Knowing how short sighted Daddy was I felt sure this ruse would succeed. The role call, you may remember, was done from the line outside the bath. (David Maltby)
I do not recall anyone using showers. They did exist I know adjacent to the locker room (on the left as one entered the door of the gym I think), but perhaps there was not enough fuel for heating water in those wartime years. I never knew of anyone using the gym showers. The whole area stank to high heaven of dampness. I only ever saw Daddy Scho use the urinal in the middle stall. The change room stank of stale sweat. The gym hall smelt of dry dust! A WC was installed in the open entrance space before the gym change room door during my period at the school, presumably to replace the inside facility. The pool had a toilet in the end cubicle by the main school building. This always had a wet floor, and also smelt strongly of pee. These smells remain in my mind over 30 years later! (John Hawkins)
The showers in the gym were used '51/56. I can't remember them being used after gym classes but certainly after games periods when it had been muddy. It was indeed a dank dark spot and with the steam swirling around, not the best place to clean up. The gym, well it smelled of "the Gym". It was a unique smell, probably from the floor polish on those hallowed boards that were walked on by plimsolls only. For those days, the gym was surprisingly well equipped but Daddy wouldn't often use the various devices, preferring to have classes to knee bends and such which was very very boring. I always misjudged the days I reported sick. Not wanting to do the swinging arms things I would bring a note confirming my inability to do anything due to some cold or cogh. Of course, that day they would play basketball or something interesting. Just couldn't win at the RLS! Mention was made of basins in the cloakroom on the western side of the Hare Hall entrance. There were sinks and taps but no bogs or showers and one wonders just why they bothered? The cloakrooms were not the safest place to put anything either. They were a hunting ground for anyone who was missing football boots, gym shorts or a cricket cup. (Mike Merry)
I recall the terror of having a sick note for gym lessons - e.g. having a strained muscle. The penalty was to sit on top of the wall bars for the lesson. First of all it was necessary to climb the bars, whilst having the injury. Then it was precarious to turn 180 degrees to sit on the wobbling seats which sat loosely on top of the wall bars. Finally you became a target for fun if a ball game was being played, as the class would try to accidentally topple you with a stray throw! (John Hawkins)
After games periods we had the new showers in the pavilion, hence lack of use of gym showers - they must have been crowded after a games period!("There were sinks and taps but no bogs or showers") Were these provided in connection with the old outside toilet block? Were there hand basins in there? Was that old building demolished on construction of the new block near the new caretaker's house? There was a building on its site for waste bin storage, which included a lock-up garage, and may have been a reconstruction of the old toilet block. (John Hawkins)
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