A time I’ll never forget.

I stood there at the edge of the swimming pool at the apartments we were staying at in Turkey. Craig, my brother, was in the pool standing in the shallow end whilst I was looking into the depths of the deep end. He called over to me: ”Just jump in and swim down!” I looked at him wide eyed in a mix of terror and anticipation. Then I put on a serious face, nodded to Craig and launched myself as far out as possible into the water.

Time seemed to slow. As I was flying through the air I saw Craig whoop at me but never really heard it. As the tips of my toes first touched the water I did not recoil. Instead, I put my arms flat down by my sides and sank into the water. I naturally closed my eyes but then I opened them again to see a blue tiled floor through my blue goggles.

I tried frantically to push upwards to push myself downwards, but it didn’t work. I let the air out of my lungs in big bubbles and I sank somewhat. But then water flooded into my mouth and I pushed hard on the floor with my feet and burst out of the water, which showered the nearest sunbeds. I started choking – hard. After I recovered I climbed out and with the knowledge of the previous experience, hurled myself in, but this time I let all the air out of my body and with a push from my arms I sank like a stone.

I sat on the bottom for a second with my mouth clamped shut. Then I lay spread-eagled at the bottom until my lungs ached for air.

So yet again I pushed myself up and took deep lungfuls of air before smiling broadly at Craig. And so, that is how I got over my fear of being underwater... and I learned how to lie at the bottom of a pool..

Jack Smith

My first salmon

I heard my dad “Get up, we need to go now!” I looked at my clock: 10.30am was what it showed. I leaped out of my bed, looked out my window and thought to myself “Could it be my lucky day?” I probably was only thinking this as it was a lovely bright, sunny day which always leaves me in a good mood.

As my dad and I arrived at the river we knew immediately that it was going to be a good day’s fishing as there were plenty of people on the river, all trying their luck to catch that one fish which they had been dreaming of for so long. The fact that there were so many people on the river meant that there must be salmon running it.

As my dad set up my fishing rod, I was picking a fly. I searched through one whole box and couldn’t find anything suitable. I opened another box. A silvery tinge off one of the flies caught my attention. Immediately I thought “that’s the one”.

After I got my rod set up we set off on the worst terrain down to the dangers of the river’s edge. By now I was feeling a bit more excitement, especially as my dad showed me where there were fish spawning and how to fish that particular area.

I took my first cast out, nearly hitting the bank on the other side. This was so I could cover as much of the river as possible. Nothing. Then I took my second cast. Nothing. My hopes and dreams vanishing by now. Third, I was thinking to myself “third time lucky”. Of course as I was reeling my line in to go for my fourth cast I thought there was nothing. However, at about half way in I felt a strong tug on the line. I thought little of it at this stage. But then another tug. I realised that I had a salmon on the end of my line.

Adrenalin pumped through my body, my heart pumping as strongly as the tugs on the end of the line. All I wanted to do was strike and get it in the net as soon as possible. Coming to my senses, I knew I had to let it run upstream, before I could even think of striking. I waited patiently for it to run, keeping my eye on the line the whole time. All of a sudden the salmon leaped out of the water in desperate need of escape. It frightened me so much that I froze in shock because of the size of it. My dad was shouting, as were all the other fishermen, firing tips on what to do left, right and centre. My head was spinning.

Not knowing what to do I looked at my dad who was shouting “Just reel and keep the rod tip up”, so I did. The strain on my arm was so sore as the powerful, strong, intelligent salmon was so desperate to escape. I looked at the tip of my rod. It was nearly curved in an ‘n’ shape. By this stage my arm was cramping and all I wanted to do was to get the beast in as soon as possible.

A good ten minutes later, the salmon and I were as tired as each other. My dad had the net ready, knowing that the salmon was starting to give in. My dad slowly put the net into the water’s edge trying not to spook the fierce beast. I then guided the fish towards the net and the beastie happily slid towards it. Finally it was over.

My dad took the salmon out of the water and took the hook out of its mouth. I cheerfully had my picture with me holding the magnificent specimen. Then I slowly put my best friend back in, showing this king of the river some respect. He then slowly and effortlessly swam away looking as fierce as ever before. With my picture in my wallet at all times, this is an experience I will never forget.

Kurtis Ashcroft

In today’s economic climate, are football players being paid too much?

What has happened to that sport which we all once loved? The one we loved, not because of the money, but because of the skill and character of the people involved. I am, of course, talking about the much debated topic that is Football.

Back in the golden age of the game, footballers were held in the highest regard by most people because of the skill and fitness level involved. They enjoyed what they were doing and they didn’t care much about how much they were being paid. What’s more they were able to carry on playing the beautiful game until they were into their late forties, unlike today, when as soon as you hit the age of forty you are seen as useless, worthless, old news!

The game has been entertaining the general public for nearly one hundred and fifty years. However, It has changed dramatically over this period of time.On the surface it is still the same game. There is still a round ball and there are still twenty-two men in shorts trying to kick it between two posts. Yet behind the scenes it is a whole other story.

In our modern age, technology is developing so fast and training techniques are improving considerably. This therefore means that the average modern football player is going to be fitter, healthier and far more skilled. Hence, there is much more demand on them. \but just how much money can possibly be spent on a football player? Isn’t there a limit?

The record for the highest transfer fee paid in the English Football League is held by Manchester United. They paid an astounding thirty million pounds for the player Dimitar Berbatov. You may be thinking that this is a ridiculous amount of money to pay for one man, and you would be right. However, it doesn’t stop there, because the world record for the highest transfer fee pad was by Real Madrid who saw it necessary to pay eighty million pounds for Christiano Ronaldo. Granted, both men are magnificent at what they do, but is it really moral to spend that amount of money especially considering the economic problem that is facing the vast majority of people today?

In my opinion football is no longer a sport but a business: a colossal business! Football clubs no longer care about the game itself but about the money made after each match. Transfer news has now become bigger than the full time result.

Another thing that annoys me is the fact that some of the footballers nowadays care more about their wages than how they perform on the pitch. A recent example of this would be the scandal involving Wayne Rooney. Wayne Rooney is no doubt one of the best footballers in the world. Despite this, he is also one of the most arrogant and greedy men in the world. We can’t exactly say that he cares much about his looks: ha can’s do much about them! However, he does care about how much money is being paid into his bank account. In recent news it was reported that Wayne wanted to leave his dream team Manchester United, just because he wanted more money. You may not believe it, but his salary prior to this was on outrageous ninety thousand pounds per week. After much media coverage on the case, it eventually boiled down to Wayne Rooney staying at the club after all. It isn’t yet known what influenced his decision to stay. However, there is now speculation that he is now receiving two hundred and fifty thousand pounds per week! To put this in perspective, the average person in the United Kingdom earns around five hundred pounds per week. So Wayne Rooney earns approximately five hundred times as much!

Personally, I find it insickening that someone who earns fifty pence every second can have the nerve to insult one of the most celebrated and admired football clubs in the world, especially in today’s economic climate, in which two and a half million men and women are out of work and are earning nothing. What could he possibly need more money for?

It we compare somebody like Wayne Rooney, who does a few hours’ work a week, to the average British Army private who risks his life three hundred and thirty-five days a year with unsocial hours, it is frightening! The army private only earns five hundred pounds a week compared to Wayne Rooney’s one hundred and fifty thousand pound wage. That’s nearly three hundred times more! I wonder how it makes Rooney feel knowing that there are people in Afghanistan risking their lives for him while he prances around a field, falling over and crying every time he gets touched? How does he seep at night? Most likely in a bed full of money!

Kieran Logan