Did Anybody See Me? (Most Embarrassing Moments)

Member Name: davidso_99

Product:	Most Embarrassing Moments
Date:	14/08/02 (195 review reads)
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I am one of those who think they are the dog's bollocks. You know, the one who walks, or at least tries to walk with the grace and elegance of a ballet dancer. Clothes always clean and pressed, hair always smart, always striving to maintain dignity...you know the kind. This is all well and good but it's my kind who are most effected when all grace and dignity is lost in one fell swoop. It's my kind that people take most pleasure in seeing crash and burn. Picture Naomi Campbell swaying smoothly and sexily down the catwalk and all of a sudden slipping on a garment or something, legs swinging in the air and crashing down to the floor with a huge thump, limbs spread all over in a plethora of material and skin. Now the embarrassment seems somewhat multiplied. It pains me to discuss such events but I'll share a few of my not so happy memories.

3. Things aren't always as they appear.

It was a freakish beautiful day in spring. I was 10. We had made our annual pilgrimage to Leicester, where my whole family, in-laws family friends and all gathered annually for our spring get-together. The atmosphere was great. The drinks were flowing among the parents. All my cousins were there and we were all excited, having fun the way 10 year olds do. Blind man's bluff, Hide and seek, Tig (scarecrow and standard), you name it.

Then Mummy and Aunt Sue were setting up the little rubber paddling pool thingy outside and one by one the kids made their way into the garden through the glass slide door that separated the living room from the garden. I was last to leave (wanted to make my grand entrance) as I went to the kitchen for 'a drink.' Then it was time for the great one to join his people. I got ready to make my entrance, ran through the kitchen into the living room. Now the excitement of a young one is dangerous. Picture it in slow motion- me running full pelt, huge grin across my face, panting with excitement as I made my way thro
ugh the living room towards the garden....almost there...THWACK! Mummy had shut the very transparent glass sliding door as I slinked down it in a road-runner-coyote type of manner. Even at that tender age I initially forgot about the pain but was more concerned as to whether I had been seen. Oh yes I'd been seen alright. The noise of the collision betrayed me as my playmates were rolling on the floor in full guffaw at my misfortune. Mummy stooped over me trying her best to show empathy while fighting back the urge to burst out in laughter as I lay there fighting back the tears.

2. Oops.

I play football. I play football very well, or so I've been told. So well in fact that last year I was scouted to play for a semi-professional team whereby I go to college and still earn money from football at the same time. Bradford Park Avenue is the team that chose me-an accomplished semi-pro team, complete with die-hard fans. It was my first game for my new club. I was nervous. All eyes were on me. My family were there, as were some friends and the club's millionaire Chairman with his rather foxy daughter at his side. They were seated directly behind the goal we were attacking. I am a striker so this would ensure he had the best view of me thus was able to analyse my performance more closely which of course made me as nervous as hell.

We were out doing our warm up which consisted of a light jog, muscle stretches and a bit of ball work. I, keen to impress, always made sure I was one step ahead of the others in the 'light' jog and I couldn?t wait to begin the ball work for it was then that I could really showcase my talent. We all formed a circle and passed the ball around. I was doing well, passing with pinpoint accuracy and performing the occasional ball-juggle so as to impress my new teammates.

Then we decided to have a bit of shooting practice. I'm a striker. Strikers shoot. This is my forte. It all seemed so promisin
g, especially as we were shooting at the goal closest to the Chairman giving me chance to justify his faith in me. We all lined up. The coach fed the ball into us as we took turns to strike it past the goalie into the goal, or so was the theory anyway. My first shot went as planned. Straight into the top left hand corner to which I received a smile from the Chairman AND his daughter (bonus). I couldn't wait for my second attempt on goal. Matty shot it straight into the bottom corner. Then it was my turn. I confidently stepped up ready to make another glory shot. The coach touched it perfectly into my stride. I whacked that ball so cleanly and hard that I could feel the inner tube on my foot. I then looked back up, confident of the result. But the ball swung straight past the outer post and was curling back inwards then SMACK straight into the unsuspecting Chairman's daughter's pretty face. What are the chances? Blood and tears gushed from their respective facial holes like the Niagara Falls. Everybody crowded around and the club's medics were soon on the scene. The match was postponed for half an hour. It turned out I knocked a couple of her teeth out. Thankfully the big boss was very understanding and I'm still on the registers at the club though it could have been so different.

1. Sorry!

We, as a family go skiing almost every winter and have been doing so for the last 7 years or so. This year, in February we visited Andorra, a tiny place somewhere near France and Switzerland. I am by no means a great skier but I am nevertheless competent. I?m comfortable on skis. As one would expect, I progressively improved each time we went. So each year I would further myself. Try more difficult slopes and so on. By now I could go down almost any slope comfortably but steadily. It thus seemed a natural progression to attempt to travel down the slopes in lightning speed. This was my focus for the whole of our holiday, which saw my transform
ation from a healthy boy into something unrecognisable with all the bruises and scars I received. I swear to God I met every branch on every tree on the premises?..usually headfirst. Which usually meant an introduction to the resort medics. I visited the accident centre a total of four times during the trip due to my erm, ambition. But my most embarrassing moment EVER was far less dynamic.

We were riding the ski lift so as to return back to the top of the mountain. They only carry four people so the four other members of my family hopped onto one, after which I mounted the next lift solitarily. I find the ski lifts the worst part of skiing for they take absolutely ages to return you to the heights and it's soooo boring. Now these ski lifts have safety bars that you plonk over your midriff to stop yourself falling out. With my done-it-all-before attitude and in an attempt to spice the journey up, I chose to leave the bars up and casually treated the lift as a living-room couch as it scaled over the mountains. It was all going smoothly as we approached the top of the mountain. I was still suspended at a considerable height over the masses of people that had recently alighted the lift. Then there was a sudden jolt as the wire above got caught in the coil and my seat tipped forward and emptied me out and I tumbled towards the ground. However my collision with the ground wasn't as painful as I expected. The crowd below had cushioned my fall and were all like me, sprawled out on the cold white snow. I hurried to my feet and was met with looks that wouldn't be given to Bin Laden. It transpired that I fractured a poor child's wrist and my Dad had to rush to my rescue as his parent's had me by the scruff of the neck. He offered them compensation before they took legal action.

We went out to some bars in the village that night and a few of my 'fall-breakers' were littered around. One man had to be restrained as he came after me i
n drunken fury. I was the enemy and what was worse was that was only our second day in the place. Not such a happy holiday I'm afraid.

I know I know. Poor me! I'm fine. Really! No need for sympathy.

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