My old school Sydney Grammar, the most super-elite of all the Sydney GPS Silver Spoon Academies, has apparently entered a team in the 2010 GPS Geezer Olympics, a sporting competition for deluded fossils aged fifty and over as at the years end.
Our team will once again wage battle against our traditional foes; the moronic, slab-featured Press Buttons from Scots College, the agriculturally-inclined livestock-molesters from Kings, the pasty-faced preppies from Shore’s Wasp Nest, the Inner-West Scientologists from Newington’s First Evangelical Church of the Blessed Lord and All His Works, the twin God-fondling Evils from Riverview and St Joseph’s Colleges for Abused Choirboys…and the peasants from Sydney High.
Thirty years have passed since I last played GPS sport, a game of rugby if memory serves me correctly. I know we won, though the score escapes me…but my most vivid recollection of that day was the conversation I had with the St Joseph’s prop as I was preparing to feed the ball into the scrum…
Him: ‘What are you waiting for you skinny Jewish faggot ??’
Me: ‘I was just thinking about fucking your mother last night and how much her snatch reminded me of the drain in the changing room showers.’
The game was delayed five minutes while he chased me across three football fields before finally collapsing from exhaustion. Thank fuck !!!
Anyway, back to the present; it turns out my school needs me once more…they require me to swim the 50 meters freestyle race at The Games, an event for which I once held the school record in an imposing time of 26.8 seconds back in 1977.
You should have seen me then…seventeen years old, 52 kilograms, lean, mean and tanned…I would explode off the blocks as though shot from a canon, then streak through the water like a barracuda, taking just one breath around the 30 meter mark before reaching the end of the pool. I was a pure speed machine, capable of one stunningly quick lap of the pool…occasionally followed by an equally stunningly laborious second lap when I foolishly entered the 100 meters. I never broke one minute for that event…but over that 50 meter distance I was The King.
I gave up competitive swimming in 1978 to concentrate on my HSC, where I scored brilliantly, gaining the necessary marks for Law School and a degree, which I then discarded to prostitute myself in the money-market doing a job fit for a monkey. I’ve often wondered whether I did the right thing squandering the natural gift I had for breaking records in the pool, so this opportunity to don the Speedos one last time (not counting those times I’m draped like a louche over the rear lounge on the boat) may provide me with a shot at sporting redemption.
I was last clocked over the sprint distance, in 2005 at Club Med Bali, finishing utterly spannered in a leisurely 35 seconds. This got me into the final of the swimming event where I lined up against a crack field of German pedophiles…and a 150 kilogram Geoff Huegill, who looked like he’d eaten the Geoff Huegill that once held the world record for the 50 meters butterfly.
Drawing the outside lane, three away from Skippy Doughnut Features, I made a fast start before veering to the side of the pool, getting out and running the rest of the way before diving back into the pool at the other end. When Huegill came steaming into the wall and looked up I was already there, faux-heaving from the strenuous effort and waving triumphantly to the crowd…
He was shocked to say the least but came over to congratulate me like a true champion and listen to my astounding tale of this one-off piece of sporting freakery.
‘I don’t know, mate…perhaps the thrill of racing an Olympic champion inspired me to do this ??”
‘Er…I was never an Olympic champion…just a World Championship gold medalist.’
‘Oh yes…sorry mate…I forgot.’
It’s doubtful whether I’ve gotten any faster over the past five years and even more doubtful I’ll be able to pull that trick again at the GPS Geezer Olympics…so at this stage I suspect my only hope of saving face will be to fail the pre-games drug test…