I remember one time I was in year 9 or 10, we used to always play footy on the oval at lunch time. We had a system where as soon as one a team scored, the loser kicked it off on the try line. When my team was close to scoring, I’d always drop back to collect the kick. One day, it went over my head and I turned to pick it up. Turned back around and I see one guy about 30 yards in front of me who chased the kick on his own. Tall and lanky, all bone. So in one of my more brighter moments, I went into full Martin Lang mode and ran full steam ahead. We hit, and I instantly felt like I’d been in a car crash. We both took a backward step. I was in wonderland, but somehow managed to still have the ball. Without thinking, I reset like a player in a video game and kept running, then come to another guy who was a bit of a thug who use to claim he’d play first grade for the Dogs (Spoiler, he didn’t). He speared me and I almost landed on my head. Was sore for a week after, but was worth it, as there was a group of girls sitting on the sideline watching, so that won me some cred.
