I ran an outdoor swimming club for thirteen years before such things got popular. It was Sunday, Monday and Wednesday in the lake, two other days at an indoor pool and it was a hub of ambitions. We had a few English Channel Swimmers, lake challengers, some of us were extreme cold enthusiasts. The committee of three of us that ran it were also involved in a lifeguard club and a lifesaving class. There were triathletes too. We used to joke that triathletes, like flies, appear when the sun shines.
On 22nd October 2007 two coaches and I were discussing some slackers who were not making the grade. “It’s not like we pull them in off the street,” said Richard. “They come to us and tell us what they want to do, we say we’ll help and then they don’t do anything.” He was perplexed. Jane had similar tales to tell of her group, always giving reasons why they were not going to swim after all. That week one swimmer left a session early “to feed his mother’s cat.” Coincidentally another told me he could not attend as he “Had to feed his sisters cat.” There were a lot of well-fed cats benefiting from these layabouts Richard mused. I proposed between us we start a book to record the excuses we encountered for a full year and see which ones proved most entertaining.
The existence of the excuse book soon gained widespread notoriety. We did not judge the quality of the excuses, nor argue with the whiners about their submissions. We just recorded them, anonymously to protect the identities of the guilty. Twelve months later we pooled our submissions and I printed them off into a thirty two page book called “I have to feed my sister’s cat” and other reasons not to swim. It was circulated for a few weeks among the survivors.
Four years later (2011) we decided to run it again for another year. Thereafter it became something mentioned but rarely added to. We’d had our fun. In 2014 the swimming club had served it’s time and dissolved. Covid ended the Lifesaving class. A few remnants of the lifeguard club continue. The book itself is now in my study, dormant and only occasionally opened. The few survivors of the three clubs generally do not respond to training dates unless definitely attending. They learned the hard way maybe that committing and not turning up has consequences.
So it was then that Angell and I were having breakfast at the lake on Saturday before launching the rowboat. A message came through from Trevor, a guy who has a physique like Batman in the movies. Trevor told us that he was going to join us but now wasn’t as he had got up late after watching football into the early hours.
“Football?!!” I spluttered as I read the text to Angell. He had no sympathy as he’d watched it too and still got up. Me – well, I phoned Trev and told him of course that it was the most insulting excuse we’d ever had in the history of the excuse book and that it would be reopened just for him. “Stood up for football!” I ranted. After all I reasoned, “chasing after a ball is what dogs do for entertainment.” Trevor therefore is the first submission to be publicly outed – the first in it’s 19 year history.
Some of the entries of the infamous excuse book will be revealed in due course.
See you down the road.
