Shippy Shipman (obviously), Stringy Shipman (he was very skinny), Smelly Shipman (a faint whiff of the boys bog seemed to follow him closely): in the end it all seemed to settle around Slippy Shipman. Not the worst of nicknames, nor the best either but definitely better than Smelly.

Slippy was of the middle range in most things. He could read and spell competently, and follow much of what he was required to know in order for his school not to fall too far in the SATS league tables.  He had a few friends of the non-heroically-sporty variety and was rarely bullied either by teachers or peers. His parents loved him dearly but had no illusions of his excellence. They just wanted him to be happy without seriously wondering how that state might be achieved.

Like many of us, Slippy had a rich interior life. His was populated mainly by fantasies of sporting excellence. He saved the national team from disgrace on many occasions by unforeseen manoeuvres and wily tactics. Slippy by name….. In reality, he was usually the second-to- the-last to be picked for any team sport in P.E. or in playgrounds. His advice was rarely asked for and it was generally assumed that Slippy was not a sporty type.

By accident, this was to change.  The school rounders team was due to play in the inter-school finals one Saturday and Slippy was going to watch them with his Dad. Just before they left the house, a phone call urgently summoned Slippy to fill in for one of the star players who had fallen off his bike and was waiting to be put back together in A and E.

            Don’t be upset if you miss the ball

His mum’s parting words erred on the side of encouraging happiness rather than imparting confidence. But Slippy was already beyond happiness and brimful of confidence. He had spent his many hours, whilst excluded from team games, in the solitary activities of hitting balls against walls and his catching skills were unmatched. His time to excel had arrived.

The match went well for Slippy’s team and he made great contributions to the rounders tally due to his accuracy in hitting far and beyond reach of opposing fielders.  The time came for Slippy’s side to field and the score was soon uncomfortably close.  Slippy distinguished himself with a high catch and caught a player out at third base. He was contributing.

As the scores evened further, Slippy’s big moment arrived. With a powerful hit, the ball  sailed over many heads and came well within Slippy’s reach. He leaped for the ball, caught it and fell awkwardly.  Groans from the team could be heard as they assumed the match lost through Slippy’s missed catch.

Let us not be hasty though. Although crumpled up in pain, Slippy held the ball aloft and the game was declared for Slippy’s team. As the scribble on his plaster cast attests, Slippy was at last a sporting hero

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