Maths and R.E.

And you'll notice its R.E. not R.S.! Education is a much nicer word. Longer too.

So, this time we're talking about me and how I became the European Champion of Europe at a game called Squares.

It was about the time I had just discovered I was the proud possessor of double jointed eyebrows, so I must have been in years 7-9 at school. Those were some eyebrows. Unfortunately I lost them in a side bet on a game of squares and all I got back in return was a set of prepubescent testicles, not at all a fair trade. Mind you, I just said it was a bet, so we'll ignore the redundant use of the word trade.

So, now seems a good time to distract you with another one of my (fictional) award winning musical jokes!

To the tune of Elton John's 'Are you ready?'

'Are you ready...

No.'


Its a corker that one. I got back in the mood after hearing that Jack Johnson song where he goes on and on about he's got no idea about what to write to some 'well fit bird' on 'the back of a postcard'. Stop doing autographs for minger grannies mate, nobody is fooled!

But it gave me opportunity to think about what I would write if I were J. J. and had to fill a postcard.

My love, for you, is like
A googolplex,
Please come on Tuesday,
To watch me flex.
I'm particularly proud
Of the pecs.
I have been known to
'Spin the decks'.
If you can't come
Please send a text.

From Long Gone Silver.

So, now that we've forgotten why I distracted you (yes! It worked!) we can carry on with the story.

Actually let me just interrupt, with the thought that just signing my name on the postcard has disproved the rumour that I use this pseudonym because I'm a silver backed mountain gorilla that has learned to touch-type and take dictation.

The other part of rumour - that the dictation was being given by a conglomeration of the most senior women in the W.I. from the northern continent, so that they could gain a small public voice and be slightly liked again - is also entirely false.

And back to topic.

I used to play squares with my good childhood friend Michael Haworth. If you're reading this Michael; 'flipping heck, thats a cool coincidence, I bet you don't even remember me!'

Instead of learning all about R.E. (I got a special dispensation in R.E. lessons because my dad is the Pope, or something like that) and Maths (perhaps why I only really understand algebra to this day and no other form of mathematics) we played huge games of squares. On massive grids we played sets like snooker, best of 27 games etc.

It was epic, it was truly wonderful, it was enough to make you misspell the two schools of Muslim thought in excitement at getting the last free line without giving a square.

I distinctly remember once having to defend my reasoning behind 3x+6y=Yes! The elusive drop-square! in maths class. Now that was a diatribe worth publishing.

We were incredible, we commentated so brilliantly, making up names for all the possible moves (47 open and an infinite amount of closed moves), chatting in hushed tones at the back of class, loving every second of it.

Then we got serious, deciding we should see who the best was. First the best in Europe (me) and then the best in the world (him). We ran this format a few times and once or twice even lifted our heads up to scan the neighbouring desks and see if anyone else wanted to play, but they were busy learning. The big hard-working, lesson learning geeks.

No matter what I did, no matter how many times I turned the elongated T-square into a reverse J-square with the cunning application of a drop-square, I could never beat him in the World Championships. Pressure, I guess. But then, come the European tournament, I was on home soil, unbeatable in 9 straight tournaments.

A little while into our mammoth undertaking of beating the rest of the world before they had shown up, we received a communique from Mars that they were sending a competitor. He was just waiting for the taxi we'd sent to successfully land and transfer him back to earth down the satellite link.

We eagerly began to build up the hype of the intergalactic Championships, knowing that Mars was in the same galaxy, but also knowing that intergalactic is so much grander than interplanetary, and we needed to sell out our entire allocation of earths tickets.

And then, just as we were beginning to think he wasn't coming (I'm still not sure it was a 'he', you know)...

...

..

.

I moved schools.