I loved playing rugby at school and looked forward to Friday afternoon when time was set aside for sport. I was much more interested in getting out onto the field than trying to figure Shakespeare or remember what an isosceles triangle looked like.
Friday rolled around and I was itching to get free of the books when our teacher intercepted one of those stupid, crude notes that got passed around furtively – something that wouldn’t happen today in an era of cell phones. The teacher demanded to know who started the little chain. No one owned up.