Thought of the Dave
The Bleep Test
Sport. No one word can instil fear and trepidation in me like that one seemingly innocent collection of letters. As a child I was universally awful at every type of sport going – just walking past the school field would result in a football in the face and subsequent winding. My games teachers were used to the literally twice-weekly note they’d receive from my Mum excusing me from games. It got to the stage where we had used just about every excuse going short of paralysis or death. In the end we settled with putting that I suffering from a “personal medical problem” that meant I couldn’t take part. That kept them guessing…
One particular highlight of the few Games lessons I did choose to take part in was the Bleep Test. For those who aren’t familiar with this evil practice, it works as follows. The unlucky partakers are forced to run from one side of the sports hall to the other in between two bleeps that get gradually closer together. As the bleeps get closer, you run faster, until you can’t take it any more. Some of the unfortunate collapse on the floor saying “You go ahead, leave me behind…you’re stronger than me…you have you’re whole life ahead of you. Tell Mum I loved her…”.
It would always end the same way. The same bastard would be left running long after everyone else had given up through either tiredness or boredom. They always looked particularly smug at having beaten everyone else. Still, bet it didn’t help them much when they were in the dole queue years later. How the mighty have fallen…
People have died doing the Bleep test. I know. I was one of them.