Tracy-Ann Oberman is an actress best known for her roles in EastEnders and Doctor Who. As a writer, her work includes Radio 4 plays Bette and Joan and Baby Jane, about the rivalry between Hollywood diva Davis and Crawford, Rock and Doris and Elizabeth, about the “love triangle” between movie stars Hudson, Day and Taylor, and Mrs Robinson, I Presume, about the making of The Graduate.
There’s a scene in the film Close Encounters of The Third Kind where Richard Dreyfuss is welcomed on to the mothership by the aliens. They came in two types: the Talls (elegant, floating, elongated); and the Greys (ET, squat, waddling). I’ve always secretly believed that humans can be divided into these categories, too. Now I have empirical evidence. The school run. Tall, willowy, golden mums waft past in faded denim looking like they’ve spent their entire life in downward dog. In a yurt. In Cornwall. Then the rest of us, the Greys, waddle through the gates behind them. When it comes to sports day, the Talls smash it every time. Their kids win the races and they dominate the parents’ egg-and-spoon. Why do we Greys bother?
My much-missed dad would have given me one of his legendary speeches on reading that sentence. At the first sign of giving up, he’d transform into Stanmore’s answer to Russell Crowe’s Maximus, firing us up to “SEIZE that exam”, “SIZE UP to that bully”, “WHIP those tonsils out!” He could out-orate Henry V. But he truly came into his own on sports day. A keen competitor himself, with a shelf full of tennis and football trophies, he was our very own Michael “Mickey” Goldmill from the Rocky films. Towel around his neck, tracksuit on: “You’re gonna eat lightnin’. You’re gonna crap thunder!” he all but bellowed to us, his two coach-potato daughters, “Don’t you want to WIN?”
Sorry Dad. I finally own it: I am a Grey. On my school sports day, the only thing I willingly volunteered for was the cross-country run and only then because it enabled the opportunity to sneak off to Mr Berry’s sweet shop and buy a bag of fruit salads and fizzy colas.
So I was delighted to discover that next week, my daughter will not suffer the indignities of watching Tall after Tall standing on the podium, receiving a prize. Her school doesn’t believe in competitive sports days.
Others decry this - it’s PC gone mad. That children need competitive sports to encourage fitness, teamwork and self-esteem. I see it differently. At her school, there is no distinction between the physically able and the not-so. Greys and Talls play every lunchtime, encouraged to climb trees and build dens together. They run around that playground for the fun of it. Today I told her that her sports day was going to be great. That no one is a winner and no one a loser. Turns out she’s furious. She wanted the chance to win a medal. My dad would have loved her.
Whether you’re driven by an urge to win or just love taking part, the Samsung Galaxy Tab A is the perfect personal trainer. Slim and trim at 450g, it supports the latest fitness apps, while its 5MP camera can capture every win, at the finishing line or on penalties.
