WEARING A RED NOSE AND WRECKING MY ANKLES...

WHEN RED-NOSE DAY WAS A NEW THING IN BRUM… 

Skating On Damaged Ankles

Comic Relief had been created:

I decided to participate.

I bought a ‘red nose’, wondered how to raise money

And chose to roller skate.

I borrowed a young girl’s discarded in-line skates,

Plastic and uncomfortable I’d say,

Attempted two separate journeys,

Via work on ‘Red Nose Day’.

I practised skating along my street

For a few minutes only I’ll admit;

The skates were adequate but strange to wear

And a particularly unpleasant tight fit.

I dressed in track trousers, a curious sight,

In colours which blatantly stood out;

My red plastic nose was perched on my face,

But my safety was certainly in doubt.

The early going was easy and flat,

Though the surface wasn’t smooth for skating;

I turned onto Bromford Road, a decline

And it seemed that my toes were vibrating.

I gathered speed and I began to enjoy it,

Raced along at a considerable pace;

The banter from passing vehicles was rife

But panic soon showed on my face.

I had absolutely no idea

How to stop those wheels in-line,

Then I saw that just a short distance ahead

Was a side-road, the very first warning sign…

I was forced to react instantaneously,

As I raced full-tilt down the slope;

I veered left onto a drying grass verge

And sprawled after losing balance and hope.

The skid dirtied my top and grazed my thighs,

Nearby houses must have enjoyed the spectacle;

I rose, embarrassed, as quickly as possible

To avoid ridicule and dust down my testicles…

Shaken, I wiped myself down and restarted, 

Gingerly crossing the said road

But as I approached the main traffic flow,

My progress was drastically slowed.

I negotiated various traffic controls

Onto the Tyburn Road, A38,

Across cobbled, uneven and badly cracked surfaces,

At a rapidly slowing rate.

I could barely skate, my ankles were sore

And as I neared the gloomy city,

I was virtually walking, slapping skates down

And received glances lined with pity.

Underpasses, a couple of straight sections,

But mainly a strenuous ascent

Took me to my workplace, Birmingham Museum,

Although the footwear, I had begun to resent.

A day’s work followed my trials,

Then the dreaded time arrived

When I had to strap the skates back on,

Though my enthusiasm had hardly thrived.

Downhill became my immediate horror, 

As an underpass loomed ahead,

Speeding, I felt that I could turn from the slope

Into the tunnel, as out of control I sped.

The opening approached so quickly, 

I was sure of my angles I recall,

But I careered almost straight ahead

And crashed into the subway wall…

I hit the tiles with flapping arms

With legs and hands a-flailing,

Like the stooge in a Tom and Jerry cartoon,

Chasing the mouse but desperately failing.

It hurt. It really, really did,

I had fallen like a puppet from string

But despite it being after work,

No passers-by witnessed my fling…

I recovered from this stunning blow,

I struggled further on my way

But as I reached Aston Science Park, downhill,

Traffic lights ahead of me lay.

I estimated that I had just enough time

To make it across the main road,

Rather heavy with rush-hour traffic,

As the green light fortuitously showed.

Yet just as I began the final descent,

The light turned to amber, then red

And I was tossed from a Tom and Jerry cartoon

Into ‘Some Mothers Do ‘Ave ‘Em’ instead…

My eyes staring wide, I reacted swiftly,

Flung out my right hand and snatched

A sturdy, metal streetlamp post

 Becoming unwittingly attached.

I was wrenched with a sudden aching pull,

Completely off my feet,

I was swung round wildly, skates and all

To land heavily upon my seat…

My red nose had detached as I flew through the air

And it bounced across the road,

In front of a startled motorist,

Who’d braked in emergency mode.

I had landed in an untidy heap,

As the traffic came to a halt;

The lights had changed, I’d taken evasive action,

It was surely not my fault…

I was stunned and hurting and sore and abashed,

I rose and waved gratitude

To the open-mouthed driver, then rescued my nose

With a casual, tight-lipped attitude.

The remainder of the journey was fairly innocuous,

Just hard work but I suffered verbal abuse

From ignorant local inhabitants

Of Washwood Heath, who were rather obtuse.

The final half-mile, through gritted teeth

Left my ankles aching and raw;

The skates had rubbed to form ripe blisters

And I collapsed on the lawn near my door.

I lay, I relaxed, I removed the skates,

My red nose was sweaty and runny;

I smiled though, for my ‘Sponsored Skate’

Had benefited charity with donations of money…

Pete Ray

ARRIVING AT THE SCHOOLS LIAISON OFFICES IN BIRMINGHAM MUSEUM, WHERE SECRETARY JEAN EDWARDS LOOKS SLIGHTLY AMAZED...

NEARLY HOME: STANDLAKE AVENUE IN HODGE HILL...

HILLTOP DRIVE & THE SKATES ARE OFF...
DO I LOOK RELIEVED?
YEP.

This ridiculous episode took place in the early 1990s.

It’s what I did back then…