Top quality snow fall in London was never really a thing in my childhood. It was rare, often causing more ice and traffic disruption than beautifully settled white.
The winter of ’05 was a different story. It had snowed so much on 3 consecutive days that calling off school was a myth. So here we were a group of boysterous lads and a heap of snow. Fuck a snow man when you can rugby tackle someone into the ground and kick snow in his face. The bell rings bringing a halt to the violence. Well only for the “neeks”. The “cool” lot stayed out until the head of sport (it’s always them) came out aggressively telling us to go inside. One of the brave lads chucked a snowball at him, everyone got involved, and that spurred me onto carry on the madness.
So on the way into music class, I decided to take a snowball in. I could feel it melting in my hands as I waited for the perfect time to dispatch it. The teacher turned round to the board, the moment came. I turned around and with cricketer like precision, lobbed the snowball at my friend’s buck head. He still had his black hat on which made the impact even sweeter. A loud thump, as the snow splattered onto his head and the back wall.
I turned around to the teacher who was already looking at the class as everyone burst into laughter.
“Who did that?!” the teacher bellowed. Everyone looked at me so I wasn’t going to stay quiet.
With a big smile on my face I put my hand up and got sent to the head of year immediately. I walked around for a bit “looking for him” and then came back to class to tell the teacher I couldn’t find him. I apologised endlessly with the innocent smile I had managed to perfect in school which had got me out of trouble so many times. Somehow, I didn’t get in trouble, “I don’t know why I’m doing this but just go to your next lesson before I have to give you a detention.” Even if I got, it would have all been worth the banter.
A smile can get you out of a lot
This post was written by Ndubuisi Uchea