Inhaling the sour aroma of guilt.

 

 

I sit here, alone. Round my neck I have my medals for winning a couple of local rugby tournament in Primary school, a medal which I received for coming 2^nd in the class sprint in Primary 7, my swimming badge from scouts, a most improved award I won at Center Parcs Football camp and of course, as every school child in Britain has, about 50 medals from “Goals” won at Birthday parties. I could go on but I don’t want to make anybody jealous of my embarrassment of sporting riches.

Undeniably, my peak is long gone, forgotten in the annuls of time with only a few badges and tinny medals to console me as I cry into my pillow. I thought the crying had stopped, finally I had come to accept the realisation that I would never live the life of a professional sportsman. I came to accept that I could just snipe bitterly at those more talented and use that to compensate for my comparative failings. As I attacked their success in front of the television, I could take solace in my own past modest achievements.

But it appears all this could be in jeopardy. My last clutches to sporting success in peril. As a child, from birth through primary school, I suffered from asthma. Somehow I overcame asthma to win the aforementioned cub scout swimming badge, I believed it was all attributed to my tenacity, but I must say thanks to the help of a medicine called Bricanyl. To calm my asthmatic ailments, I took a bricanyl inhaler every day. These helped me participate in the same sporting experiences that my fellow children enjoyed, without the trappings of asthma. Sometimes I’d self medicate and give myself a few more puffs at times of strenuous activity, due to my desire to win.

Then I read the newspaper.

Scott Macleod, a Scotland second row, stood accused of violating Rugby’s drug abuse policy. What was the offending article? A bricanyl inhaler. I read this dejected, although he was cleared .As the times HILLARIOUSLY quipped “Now Macleod can breathe easily”, (It’s cause he’s asthmatic and asthmatics have trouble breathing….but he was also breathless due to the stress of the thought of being banned, but now that he is cleared, he no longer has trouble breathing as the stress is absent. But he is also able to use his inhaler so that will help his breathing additionally. GET IT? IT’S A PUN. For more awful puns, see the title of this blog.)

Were my humble successes all down to my daily dose of bricanyl? Could I not even count these medals and badges among the few things that keep me warm at night? My whole sporting life has been a lie. Every game of rugby, every game of Football, every race, my few attempts at golf and tennis, all lies, all just mirages in a drug fuelled frenzy as I puffed on my inhaler (or as I now refer to it “the juice”. ) to give me that winning edge.

I can’t live with the guilt. Tommorow, I am going to drive to “Goals”, The cub scout hall, Center Parcs, my primary school and Greenock Rugby club . I will hand back all my winnings. You can take my medals, but with it, please take my guilt. I don’t want to know in the back of my head that I cheated all a long, the slate should be wiped clean. Only then can I live free.

The same must be done for Scott Macleod, he must have all his sporting achievements stripped. Admittedly, that will leave more of a void for Macleod than it will for me. But finally he can live free. I would call for Scotland to be stripped of all this season’s 6 nations wins but unfortunately, that is not an issue. What might be an issue is if tomorrow the team doctor diagnoses the entire team with asthma and prescribes Bricanyl and suddenly Scotland might win. How would Scotland as a nation feel then? Would they be grateful of their modicum of achievement? Don’t do it Scotland, it will only bring you the same happiness that I will feel tonight, in my room now shorn of medals with the stench of guilt.