Dodgeball

Thursday morning began perfectly normally at big school.

Which, in Barry’s experience, meant that something was about to happen.

He and Marmaduke were sitting at their table in Reception while Mrs Abraham explained what they were going to do that morning.

“Today,” she announced, “we’re going to have our first PE lesson.”

Marmaduke sat up straight.

Barry did not.

“PE?” he said.

“Yes, Barry.”

“What does that stand for?”

“Physical Education.”

Barry thought about this.

“Is there any sitting down?”

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“There will be some.”

“Good.”

“And quite a lot of moving.”

Barry’s smile disappeared.

“Oh.”

Marmaduke grinned.

“I like PE.”

Barry looked at him.

“You like running around?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s fun.”

Barry considered this as though Marmaduke had just announced that he enjoyed eating broccoli for breakfast.

Mrs Abraham continued.

“We’re going to start with a game called dodgeball.”

Marmaduke’s eyes widened.

“Dodgeball!”

Barry frowned.

“What’s dodgeball?”

“It’s a game where you throw soft balls and try to avoid being hit by them.”

Barry immediately looked happier.

“You can throw them?”

“Yes.”

“Hard?”

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“Not too hard.”

Barry’s happiness dropped slightly.

“Why?”

“Because we’re playing safely.”

Barry nodded.

He seemed to accept this.

Then he whispered to Marmaduke.

“I’m going to throw mine very hard.”

Marmaduke whispered back.

“I think Mrs Abraham just said not to.”

“I know.”

“So you won’t?”

Barry shrugged.

“I’ll throw it medium hard.”

Marmaduke nodded solemnly.

“Very sensible.”

It was at that point that Mrs Abraham explained they first had to get changed.

This turned out to be almost as complicated as the actual PE lesson.

The children were going to change in their classroom, with the adults helping them where needed.

Mrs Abraham showed them where their PE bags were kept.

“Take your PE kit out, please.”

There was a sudden rustling of bags.

Then another.

Then a lot more.

Within seconds, Reception looked like a small clothing shop after someone had announced everything was free.

T-shirts appeared.

Shorts appeared.

Socks appeared.

One child produced a jumper.

Mrs Abraham held it up.

“That’s your school jumper.”

“Oh.”

“Your PE kit is the other bag.”

“Oh.”

Barry emptied his entire PE bag onto the floor.

Marmaduke looked over.

“Why have you got a spoon?”

Barry looked down.

“I don’t know.”

“Why have you got a toy dinosaur?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why have you got three socks?”

Barry picked one up.

“That’s my sock.”

“And the others?”

Barry looked at them.

“I don’t know.”

Mrs Abraham came over.

“Barry, perhaps we could concentrate on your PE clothes.”

Barry nodded.

He found his shorts.

Then his T-shirt.

Then one trainer.

Then the other.

“Where’s my sock?”

“You’ve got three,” said Marmaduke.

“Not the right ones.”

After several minutes of rummaging, everyone was eventually dressed.

Well, almost everyone.

Barry was wearing his PE T-shirt inside out.

Marmaduke had somehow put his shorts on backwards.

Another child was still wearing their school jumper.

And Alfie, had he been there, would probably have had his entire PE kit folded into perfect squares and arranged according to size.

Barry looked around.

“We look different.”

Mrs Abraham laughed.

“You certainly do.”

Then she clapped her hands.

“Right! Shoes on.”

This was the final challenge.

Putting shoes on in Reception was surprisingly difficult.

There were no laces, thank goodness.

But there were Velcro straps.

There were shoes that had mysteriously disappeared despite being on the floor thirty seconds earlier.

Barry put his left trainer on his right foot.

He stared at it.

“This feels funny.”

Marmaduke looked down.

“That’s because it’s the wrong foot.”

Barry swapped them.

“Better.”

Finally, they were ready.

Mrs Abraham led them outside to the hall.

The hall was enormous.

There were lines painted on the floor.

There were cones.

There were hoops.

And, most importantly, there was a big basket full of soft foam balls.

Barry stopped walking.

“Wow.”

Marmaduke grinned.

Mrs Abraham noticed Barry staring.

“Yes, Barry. Those are the dodgeballs.”

Barry looked delighted.

“I like PE.”

Marmaduke laughed.

“You didn’t a minute ago.”

“I’ve changed my mind.”

Mrs Abraham explained the rules.

“You can throw the ball at another player.”

Barry nodded enthusiastically.

“If the ball hits you, you’re out.”

Barry stopped nodding.

“Oh.”

“But remember, we’re using soft balls and throwing safely. No aiming at faces, and no throwing as hard as you possibly can.”

Barry looked at his hands.

Then at the balls.

Then at Mrs Abraham.

“What if I throw medium hard?”

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“Medium hard is fine.”

Barry nodded.

“I knew that.”

The children spread out.

Marmaduke immediately started bouncing from one foot to the other.

Barry stood very still.

“Ready?”

Mrs Abraham blew her whistle.

The game began.

Marmaduke was brilliant.

A ball flew towards him.

He stepped sideways.

Whoosh.

Missed.

Another came.

He ducked.

Whoosh.

Missed.

Another bounced along the floor.

Marmaduke jumped over it.

Barry stared.

“How did you do that?”

Marmaduke grinned.

“You have to move.”

Barry looked horrified.

“I don’t like that bit.”

A ball rolled towards Barry.

He looked at it.

It stopped by his trainer.

Marmaduke shouted, “Move!”

Barry stepped backwards.

The ball rolled past.

Barry smiled.

“I dodged!”

Marmaduke cheered.

“You did!”

Barry looked delighted.

“I didn’t even mean to!”

Unfortunately, Barry’s celebration lasted too long.

Another ball bounced towards him.

He watched it approach.

“Barry!” called Mrs Abraham.

He tried to move.

But he moved in the same direction as the ball.

The ball gently bounced off his tummy.

Barry looked down.

“Oh.”

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“Well done for trying.”

Barry walked to the side.

He wasn’t particularly bothered.

Then he noticed something.

The children who were out were allowed to collect stray balls and help return them.

Barry picked one up.

He looked at it.

He squeezed it.

He bounced it.

Then he looked at Marmaduke.

“Marm.”

“Yes?”

“This is the best bit.”

Marmaduke laughed.

“You’ve been knocked out!”

“I know.”

“And you’re happy?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Barry held up the foam ball.

“Because I get to throw it.”

Marmaduke shook his head.

“You’re supposed to avoid them.”

“I don’t like avoiding them.”

“That’s the whole point of dodgeball.”

Barry thought about this.

“That’s a silly rule.”

Mrs Abraham heard him.

“Barry, would you like to come back into the game?”

Barry immediately ran over.

“Yes!”

“Remember, dodge as well as throw.”

“I’ll do the throwing.”

“And the dodging.”

Barry sighed.

“Fine.”

He picked up a ball.

Across the hall, Marmaduke was still dodging everything.

He moved left.

Right.

Backwards.

Forwards.

He ducked.

He jumped.

He spun around.

At one point he somehow avoided two balls at once.

Barry stared.

“Marmaduke!”

“What?”

“How are you doing that?”

“I’m dodging!”

“I can’t do it.”

“You just move out of the way.”

Barry frowned.

“But what if I don’t?”

“Then the ball hits you.”

Barry nodded.

“Excellent.”

He picked up another ball.

Mrs Abraham laughed.

“Barry!”

“What?”

“You’re supposed to avoid it!”

“I know.”

Barry threw his ball.

It sailed gently across the hall and bounced off another child’s legs.

“YES!”

He punched the air.

“I got someone!”

Marmaduke laughed.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.”

Barry picked up another ball.

“This is my favourite sport.”

“You said you didn’t like PE.”

“I don’t.”

“You’ve just said this is your favourite sport.”

“Yes.”

“So you like PE.”

Barry considered this carefully.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because PE isn’t always dodgeball.”

Mrs Abraham clapped her hands.

“Last round!”

The children got ready.

Barry crouched behind a foam ball.

Marmaduke stood opposite him.

“You can’t hide forever,” Marmaduke said.

“I’m not hiding.”

“You are.”

“I’m planning.”

“Planning what?”

Barry grinned.

“Throwing.”

The whistle went.

Marmaduke immediately darted sideways.

Barry threw.

Missed.

Marmaduke dodged another.

Barry threw again.

Missed.

Marmaduke jumped.

Barry threw again.

The ball bounced harmlessly across the floor.

“Almost!” shouted Barry.

“You missed!” laughed Marmaduke.

Barry picked up another ball.

“I’ve got a plan.”

“What plan?”

Barry smiled.

“I’ll throw it at you.”

“That’s not really a plan.”

“It is if it works.”

Marmaduke laughed.

Barry threw.

Marmaduke ducked.

The ball sailed over his head and bounced into a hoop.

Barry stared.

Marmaduke stared.

Mrs Abraham stared.

Barry slowly raised both arms.

“GOAL!”

The entire class burst out laughing.

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“Well, Barry, it wasn’t exactly the aim of the game…”

“But it went in the hoop.”

“It did.”

“So I won.”

Marmaduke shook his head.

“You can’t just invent your own rules.”

Barry picked up the ball.

“Why not?”

“Because Mrs Abraham makes the rules.”

Barry looked at Mrs Abraham.

“Can I make the rules when I’m a teacher?”

“Perhaps.”

Barry smiled.

“Excellent.”

At the end of the lesson, everyone sat down for a rest.

Marmaduke was sweaty, happy and very proud of his dodging.

Barry was sweaty, happy and extremely pleased with his throwing.

Mrs Abraham asked, “What did you enjoy most about PE today?”

“Marmaduke?”

“Dodging.”

“Barry?”

Barry didn’t hesitate.

“Throwing.”

“And what did you find difficult?”

Barry thought about it.

“Dodging.”

Marmaduke nodded.

“I knew you’d say that.”

Mrs Abraham smiled.

“Well, next week we’ll practise some more.”

Barry looked worried.

“More dodging?”

“Yes.”

Barry sighed.

“Can we practise more throwing too?”

“Yes.”

Barry brightened immediately.

“PE is brilliant.”

Marmaduke laughed.

“You’ve changed your mind again.”

Barry shrugged.

“I’ve decided PE is good when you get to throw things.”

Mrs Abraham shook her head.

“Well, at least we’ve discovered your sporting talent.”

“What is it?”

“Throwing.”

Barry grinned.

“I’m going to be famous.”

Marmaduke smiled.

“For dodgeball?”

Barry shook his head.

“No.”

“What then?”

Barry thought for a moment.

“Being the best person at not dodging.”

And with that, Barry marched proudly back towards the classroom to get changed.

Unfortunately, he had forgotten one small thing.

His PE shirt was still inside out.

Marmaduke noticed.

“Barry.”

“What?”

“Your shirt.”

Barry looked down.

“Oh.”

He shrugged.

“It’s more aerodynamic.”

Mrs Abraham laughed.

And that was how Barry’s first PE lesson ended: with Marmaduke discovering he was surprisingly good at dodging, Barry discovering he was surprisingly good at throwing, and Mrs Abraham discovering that teaching four-year-olds sport required roughly the same level of patience as teaching a particularly enthusiastic flock of chickens.