Tales with a ring of truth
A LITTLE book comes this way, titled Midlands Mischief. It's by Bev Wimbush and chronicles some lively incidents in and around Maritzburg. There's nothing to show when it was published but it seems to cover a period over the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s. It has a great ring of truth.
One story concerns a group of Maritzburg College boys who were swimming starkers in the Girls' High School pool one night.
Usually on such expeditions one entered and left the water with all the sleek elegance of a beaver, leaving not a ripple. But this time they kicked up such a ruckus that a GHS housemistress was alerted. She rounded up a posse of gals with strong torches, who sneaked up on the swimmers then switched on, causing panic and pandemonium.
One hearty was on the high diving board in all his naked glory. Caught in a spotlight from the combined torches, he dived and gave imitations of a speedboat as he hit the water.
How cruel those GHS girls have always been.
Slow chukka
ANOTHER story in the abovementioned collection is titled Slow Boat To Mooi River. No, it's not about a voyage up the Tugela to the Mooi, which is a tributary. It is allegorical.
The Mooi River Polo Team were at the national championships at Inanda, Johannesburg. One of the Mooi River fellows made a pass at one of the Johannesburg ladies, who seemed not averse. But the lady's husband – a large, beefy fellow – certainly was averse. Fisticuffs ensued and the Mooi River fellow ended up with a beaut of a shiner.
This presented him with a problem. Polo is not a sport that dishes out black eyes. How was he to explain the shiner to his loving wife. As anyone knows, shiners are usually the outcome of another game.
And the whole team were affected. In a place like Mooi River the word gets about. If it turns out that polo tournaments are occasions for other forms of equestrianism, that will be the end of them. The fellows won't be allowed to go.
They discussed the matter. They discussed the medical side of it– the number of days it would take for a black eye to subside. And so began the (allegorical) slow boat to Mooi River.
After a leisurely breakfast the team departed for Heidelberg, some 40km away, where they booked into a local hotel and whiled away the day, playing snooker and darts that night, with the occasional drink. Then they pushed on to Balfour, a stone's throw down the road. The evening was spent the same way as the one before.
The third and fourth nights were spent in Standerston and Volksrust. The Mooi River polo side were becoming experts at snooker and darts.
"By now the eye was changing colour. The black and purple hues were changing to a lighter green. After an inspection the team reached consensus that another three days would see the end of the black eye. So after Volksrust they pushed on to Newcastle for a night then Ladysmith for another night or two, depending on whether the eye had recovered completely by then or not."
The upshot was seven days on the road, and no awkward questions the other end – "the longest ever recorded motor car journey between Johannesburg and Mooi River."
Hey, lovely stuff! Time for another chukka!
Kidnapped
I ONCE took four days to get back to Durban from a Durban Press XI fixture at Harrismith, in the Free State. I'd been kidnapped and held as a sex slave by the gals of that town.
Or so the story got about. Actually I'd proceeded from Harrismith on a perfectly legitimate professional jaunt to Ithala Game Reserve, near Louwsburg, but the vexatious story was put about (I suspect by GHS old girls) and I've spent my time vehemently denying it ever since. It is most distressing.
Heh, heh!
Tailpiece
A MUMMY discovered in the Middle East has been carbon-dated to be 3 000 years old. The archaeologists believe it died of a heart attack.
Reason: "A betting slip in its hand has been deciphered to read: "5 000 shekels on Goliath."
Last word
When I came back to Dublin I was courtmartialed in my absence and sentenced to death in my absence, so I said they could shoot me in my absence.
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