There is a time in a lads life when he is too young to be interested in girls, too old to be interested in kids stuff, too young too hang around with the toughs and yet has a lot of energy to use up. With me , it was the 13 -14 years.
I remember the long spring evenings when the gang needed something to do. In those days, the gang was always street based, intensely territorial and it was unheard of for an outsider to be included. In our gang, there would have been 40 kids, of varying ages. When it got too dark for footie we used to play games like Lahlio or British bulldog, and the girls liked this because they could put the skipping rope away and join in.
Now Lahlio was an interesting game. We divided up into two teams, it was always better to be on the weaker team. One side would get a five minute start, to go and hide, distance was no object. The second team would send out scouts, if they touched you, you had to go into jail. If one of the hiders managed to run the length of the jail, whilst shouting Lahlio, all of the prisoners were free, until they were touched again. Once all of the hiders were touched, it was game over, and the roles were reversed. There was enormous street cred in making a successful run, but even more street cred in hiding close to the jail and not being caught. And that is what this story is about.
You would think that in a normal street, even at night, it would not be possible to hide within twenty feet of a posse of 20 eagle eyed ruffians, who scoured every inch of the ground, in a widening circle. You would be wrong. We utilised all three dimensions, hiding on top of vans and porches, shadows, and psychology ‘oh no one would hide there, not with that dog. Etc and I was an expert.
Then I developed a new technique, the ‘chicken run’, which later became a game in its own right. The chicken run involved laying low a long way from the jail, without actually hiding, then moving in towards the jail, as the hunters and scouts moved out, the object being to infiltrate the line at some point. It involved a great skill – being able to cross two dimensional barriers silently, hedges fences walls. It involved great stealth, you have to watch out for grown ups, dogs, cats, milk bottles, dog turds, gravel, patches of light, twitching curtains, opening doors, etc.
The things you learn doing this are immense. You learn to trust your senses implicitly. You learn that your senses are liars as well. You learn to trust the dark, and shadows, they are your friend, not your enemy. I remember clearly belly crawling through Mrs Jones back yard. She had a four foot high hedge, which I had fosberied silently (there was a hunter stalking me). I stroked her dog behind the ears to keep her quiet. The back door opened. I lay perfectly still. Mrs jones came out and put down a basin of washing a foot from my head, she was looking right at me. From two feet away. The dog ambled over to her and she hung the washing out. Unbelieveable, she hadn’t seen me. It really does take a lot of time for the human eyeball to adjust to the dark – what a valuable lesson. Also people see what they expect to see, and disregard the rest – a second valuable lesson.
A couple of years later and I was a big lad, in with the toughs, and my childhood behind me. A couple of my schoolmates decided they were rebels, started growing their hair an inch longer, listening to the beatles and having sleepovers. We arranged to meet one night at two am in the middle of town.
I turned up at the RV and they came down the road towards me, with big piles of stuff in their arms. They had been ripping wing mirrors and badges off cars. They thought it was great fun, I wasn’t too sure, but I took hold of a load. As we turned the corner a police car was coming towards us. The leader of the three threw his booty over the wall and hissed ‘just act normal’ . The policeman smiled through the open window, ‘hey lads, what are you up to ? theres been some stealing going on around here, have you seen anything ?’ No.
He gets out of the panda, ‘I just want to ask you some questions’ No. the leader tries to edge past him BANG. Policeman smacked him so hard in the gob, he went down like a sac de merde.
Us two did a 180 , my mate on his racer (push bike) me on foot with an armful of booty, as we sprinted around the corner my first thought was ‘no , this is too easy’
So I did an immediate sideways fosbery, over the hedge, into the shadow and lay there rigid. My mate pedalled on down the road, police footsteps came charging round the corner, then stopped, right next to me. Further down the road there was a second BANG.
I didn’t see it, but there was a police van parked up, lights off. As my mate pedalled past, they flung the door open and really ruined his night (not to m.
Then they started hunting for me. They had the dogs, they had the torches, they had radios. But I kept my head and beat a hasty. Three miles of chicken run later I was back in bed, safe and sound.
Of course my two hard men mates squealed on me and I was hoiked up in front of the chief super for a caution. The other two got done, but he really wanted to know how I had escaped, so in exchange for my story he let me off with a caution. Which was a fair cop I think.
I remember the long spring evenings when the gang needed something to do. In those days, the gang was always street based, intensely territorial and it was unheard of for an outsider to be included. In our gang, there would have been 40 kids, of varying ages. When it got too dark for footie we used to play games like Lahlio or British bulldog, and the girls liked this because they could put the skipping rope away and join in.
Now Lahlio was an interesting game. We divided up into two teams, it was always better to be on the weaker team. One side would get a five minute start, to go and hide, distance was no object. The second team would send out scouts, if they touched you, you had to go into jail. If one of the hiders managed to run the length of the jail, whilst shouting Lahlio, all of the prisoners were free, until they were touched again. Once all of the hiders were touched, it was game over, and the roles were reversed. There was enormous street cred in making a successful run, but even more street cred in hiding close to the jail and not being caught. And that is what this story is about.
You would think that in a normal street, even at night, it would not be possible to hide within twenty feet of a posse of 20 eagle eyed ruffians, who scoured every inch of the ground, in a widening circle. You would be wrong. We utilised all three dimensions, hiding on top of vans and porches, shadows, and psychology ‘oh no one would hide there, not with that dog. Etc and I was an expert.
Then I developed a new technique, the ‘chicken run’, which later became a game in its own right. The chicken run involved laying low a long way from the jail, without actually hiding, then moving in towards the jail, as the hunters and scouts moved out, the object being to infiltrate the line at some point. It involved a great skill – being able to cross two dimensional barriers silently, hedges fences walls. It involved great stealth, you have to watch out for grown ups, dogs, cats, milk bottles, dog turds, gravel, patches of light, twitching curtains, opening doors, etc.
The things you learn doing this are immense. You learn to trust your senses implicitly. You learn that your senses are liars as well. You learn to trust the dark, and shadows, they are your friend, not your enemy. I remember clearly belly crawling through Mrs Jones back yard. She had a four foot high hedge, which I had fosberied silently (there was a hunter stalking me). I stroked her dog behind the ears to keep her quiet. The back door opened. I lay perfectly still. Mrs jones came out and put down a basin of washing a foot from my head, she was looking right at me. From two feet away. The dog ambled over to her and she hung the washing out. Unbelieveable, she hadn’t seen me. It really does take a lot of time for the human eyeball to adjust to the dark – what a valuable lesson. Also people see what they expect to see, and disregard the rest – a second valuable lesson.
A couple of years later and I was a big lad, in with the toughs, and my childhood behind me. A couple of my schoolmates decided they were rebels, started growing their hair an inch longer, listening to the beatles and having sleepovers. We arranged to meet one night at two am in the middle of town.
I turned up at the RV and they came down the road towards me, with big piles of stuff in their arms. They had been ripping wing mirrors and badges off cars. They thought it was great fun, I wasn’t too sure, but I took hold of a load. As we turned the corner a police car was coming towards us. The leader of the three threw his booty over the wall and hissed ‘just act normal’ . The policeman smiled through the open window, ‘hey lads, what are you up to ? theres been some stealing going on around here, have you seen anything ?’ No.
He gets out of the panda, ‘I just want to ask you some questions’ No. the leader tries to edge past him BANG. Policeman smacked him so hard in the gob, he went down like a sac de merde.
Us two did a 180 , my mate on his racer (push bike) me on foot with an armful of booty, as we sprinted around the corner my first thought was ‘no , this is too easy’
So I did an immediate sideways fosbery, over the hedge, into the shadow and lay there rigid. My mate pedalled on down the road, police footsteps came charging round the corner, then stopped, right next to me. Further down the road there was a second BANG.
I didn’t see it, but there was a police van parked up, lights off. As my mate pedalled past, they flung the door open and really ruined his night (not to m.
Then they started hunting for me. They had the dogs, they had the torches, they had radios. But I kept my head and beat a hasty. Three miles of chicken run later I was back in bed, safe and sound.
Of course my two hard men mates squealed on me and I was hoiked up in front of the chief super for a caution. The other two got done, but he really wanted to know how I had escaped, so in exchange for my story he let me off with a caution. Which was a fair cop I think.
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