End Of Days '95

If my calculations are correct, and I am close to certain they are in this case, today is the thirtieth anniversary of when I left high school.

I remember it because it was exactly a week to the day of my birthday, falling on a Tuesday that year. I checked and it all lines up.

There's little I remember about the full day. 

The final lesson was maths. There was a buzz going around that we would all be called into the hall for a final assembly. Our teacher, when asked, denied it. It was typical of her to toe the line. Lesson went on as planned. I think.

Anyway, somebody did show up and summoned us to the canteen (the main hall must have had desks out ready for the GCSEs).

After we were given the last assembly as pupils of the school, the time-honoured tradition of having a shirt signed by classmates and teachers took place.

Not for me, though. 

I don't really know exactly why I chose not to have my shirt signed. I was absolutely at the stage where I was glad to be leaving. I cannot speak for my sixteen-year-old self, but it must have been a case of me rebelling against a trend.

Or I simply didn't want my shirt ruined.

Either way, as I sit here now - all these years later - I have zero regrets about leaving the canteen hall with an unblemished shirt. 

The only person I do recall signing a shirt for is an odd story in itself. He came up to me, thrust a pen in my hand and - with a passive-aggressive tone - said something along the lines of 'you can sign my shirt as well if you want to'.

This lad and I had no connection at all during our school days. We were in different classes throughout. I could have possibly counted on one hand the times we conversed. And I would still have fingers remaining.

I did sign his shirt even though it felt like he was doing me the favour.

And that's all I recall about the school part of the final day.

That was the time when Royal Mail delivered twice each weekday. I came home, and waiting for me on the mat was a copy of WCW Magazine and a padded envelope with a video cassette inside.

The tape was of the NJPW Super J Cup from a year earlier. It's one of the best Japanese shows in history. 

Receiving the tape was the highlight of my final day of school. Hands down.