Cross Dressing?…Down Under? (Inspiration Point)

Darryl was a star performer, outstanding, brilliant in fact, well not to put too fine a point on it, he was matchless. Really he was! Everyone in his peer group agreed, on a skateboard there was no one to touch him! Locally he had no challengers and others, having heard of his prowess and coming from from far and wide to compete against him, felt overwhelmed and gave up as soon they saw the level of his ability.

Those who just watched him perform experienced a whole range of emotions. Sheer disbelief that anyone could perform such daring tricks on a skateboard in such a way, at such a speed. The vicarious excitement you get watching any dangerous activity. Open admiration tinged with jealousy at his mastery of the skateboard, and often fear because some of the disciplines he so casually attempted were so extraordinary that it was obvious that he must come to grief…but he never did!

A hush came over the skateboard rink every time he entered it. What new trick would he demonstrate this time? At speeds that made the onlookers doubt their vision he hurtled across the flat centre and up the steep slope in front of him. Parting company with his skateboard he seemed to twist and turn in one direction whilst his board was sent spinning in another, no way could they ever hope to land in the same place at the same time, both must come to grief, he had gone too far this time. He hadn't of course, skateboard and Darryl landed in exactly the same place at precisely the same time and joined together again, they raced across the flat to the other side where he repeated the exercise just to show how easy it was. Then, having glanced contemptuously around the arena, a look that defied anyone else to attempt the manouvre he had just invented, he sauntered out to the bar and ordered himself a Coke.

It wasn't long before Bruce Mathews the National Coach heard of Darryl's ability and having read the first-hand reports from his scouts quickly made his way from Melbourne where, amid a huge PR campaign, he had been setting upthe National Centre for Sports Excellence, to the downtown area of Sydney where Darryl lived. He simply had to check out this prodigy and if he was as good as he had been told, try to recuit him for one of his Olympic Teams. Maybe he could convince him to take up another sport that would use all his skatboarding skills, like skiing or snowboarding, something like that. It would mean that Australia had found another champion and he, Bruce Mathews would be hailed as a great coach and team builder.

Rather than simply turn up unannounced to watch Darryl's daily workout Bruce decided to turn his visit into a PR exercise for the National School. He took ads in all the local papers and TV stations, produced large sized flyers that were distributed all over Sydney inviting everyone to come and join in, show what they could do. In the flyers he published newspaper headlines from all over the world commenting on the Australian attitude to sport and their farsightedness in setting up the School for Excellence. Athletes turned up on the day in droves. It was like a carnival and at the end of the day he did find one or two prosects for other sports.

But it was Darryl he had come all this way to see and the arena was full for the skateboarding event. Most of the competitors were good, some very good, none were even starters compared to Darryl. Despite having an old and battered skateboard that no one else would even dream of admitting to owning, he put on a show that made everyone gasp at his daredevil performance. No one had ever seen anything like it. It was almost as if he and his skateboard were conjoined in some mystical way that only they understood. He went one way, the board another, he twisted and somersaulted to the left, the board went spinning off to the right, both were feet apart and high in the air but at the point of landing both were in perfect harmony and moving at an incredible speed towards the next impossible activity, which they completed with such consummate ease that it almost looked as though the manouvre was simple…whch for Darryl it probably was. His last display, impersonating a witch on a broomstick flying between the peaks of the arena earned him a spontaneous, tumultous standing ovation.

Bruce was transfixed with excitement. This kid may be the roughest of rough diamonds but Boy-oh-Boy when he was polished he'd make the Koh-I-Noor diamond look like something out Woolworths…metaphorically speaking of course! He couldn't wait to meet him, it was vital that he convinced him his future lay in Melbourne with him and the Olympic Team.

Darryl was tired, he had used every ounce of his energy that afternoon and simply wanted to go home and tell his Mum, (his dad had left home years ago), all about the competition, how well he had performed in it, and the bloke from Melbourne that wanted him to join some sort of school that he ran there. You see Darryl might be the ace performer on a skateboard but unfortunately in other areas of his schoolwork he was not very highly regarded. In fact to be blunt he was rated about as low as you can get in most subjects. Not that this bothered him an any way he was a happy soul and enjoyed his lfe doing the things he liked
doing..such as skateboarding and…skateboarding and…skateboarding. He didn't seem to realise that entry into this School of Excellence would completely change his lifestyle for ever. He'd discuss it with his Mum when he got home and let Bruce know, yeah, yeah,no worries, he'd be sure to ring him, no he didn't mind if Bruce came to see his Mum tomorrow morning but for now..He turned on his heel and set off home.

"How'd it go Darryl darlin'" His mother greeted him as soon as he put his foot inside the front door of their dilapidated old house in the worst of the run-down areas of Sydney. She always took a keen interest in all Darryl's activities, but rarely could actually see her son perform. She worked for an office cleaning company and weekends were their busiest time, she worked three eight-hour shifts over the two days. It wasn't much of a job but as she often put it to Darryl "It keeps the Dingo off the front door step!"

He slung his skateboard into it's regular spot behind the telly. "Great, thanks Ma, tried out a few new dodges, went down well I think. Some bloke from Melboune wants me go to his school, says he's coming to talk to you about it tomorrow." Without waiting for response from his Mother he turned to go to his room to change and have a shower, they didn't have a bathroom just a shower.

His mother wasn't quite finished. "This bloke from Melbourne," she asked him. "Who is he, why does he want you to go his school?" Darryl handed her a bundle of flyers that had announced the competition. They featured headlines reporting the establishment of the School of Excellence as well as inviting entrants to the various competitions. "He's the bloke that runs this operation," he said, with apparently little interest. Then seeming to change his mind he pointed to one of the press headlines featured on the flyer. "I think this was a pretty important competition Ma, even the Pommes knew about it. They didn't send anyone though."

The UK headline he was drawing his mother's attention to was from "The Guardian". It had seen fit to report the school's setting up with the headline "Aussies Plan World Domination Through Cross Dressing." It went on to describe the intention of the founders as being a search for the stars of tomorrow. "Out there," it confidently said, "were lots of youngsters who excelled in all sorts of sports that were never mentioned in the media, many of them could put their skills to work in other areas of sport and the task of the school would be to find these prodigies and mould them into champions for Australia." Similar reports were highlighted from Aussie papers as well.

"This bloke from Melbourne, was his name Mathews, Bruce Mathews?" She asked him gently at the same time trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Yeah, that's him," Darryl answered as if he had no further interest in the matter, "Like I told you, he's gonna come here tomorrow to see you. I hope that's OK." His mother, much quicker on the uptake nodded, "Oh yes" she said. "That'll be fine Dee, just fine." Darryl went back into his room and emerged a few minutes later holding a pile of the clothes he had been wearing for the competition, his mother could smell the sweat on them from the other side of the room. He walked towards her offering the pile to her for washing. He handed her back the flyer at the same time. "Sorry if I made your dress and things a bit grubby during the comp," he said grinning ruefully. "I still don't see why they wanted me to go in fancy dress, no one else bothered. Still it made the jumps bit more difficult I s'pose, pr'aps that's why?" He shook his head and added. "Funny ideas those blokes in Melbourne have, still I quite enjoyed it."
END