Occasionally, one of my running colleagues tells me about their “cross-country” at the Crest sports fields, Bankstown. As a Christmas present to all our running comrades on email (plus one or three other non-jogging comrades too), we thought a reminisce to cross-country KIWI-STYLE might bring a smile you could raise a glass to…..
The high school my brothers and I attended on the edge of Auckland, New Zealand, had a 90 acre dairy farm in its large grounds. So, we hosted the Auckland Province secondary schools' cross country championships every year (I came 26th [3rd for our college] in my nearest brush with glory in the A-grade seniors in 1963). In winter, in New Zealand, we're talking serious mud! Milking cow tracks covered in thick clay mud; greasy clover; creeks and barbed wire fences surrounded by cow-hoof bog-holes!
We're talking 1960's, so hardly any runner wore shoes (wouldn't have helped in the mud anyway). These photos are from the 70's, and it wasn’t much improved…
My worst recollection (even now, as a runner of some 45 years experience) vividly remains that a 6th Form's physed 2 laps (about 6k) under tyrannical physed master, Stanley Mair. In pouring rain, I slipped on the greasy clover, skidded towards a bank on my back, heading towards the main race into the milking yard; straight through a pile of steaming wet cow-pats that piled up on my shorts and back! To stop myself falling over the drop, I grabbed the fence I was sliding under - only to discover it was electrified! Lying there, jerking rhythmically, I still remember thinking, "it can't get any worse than this"... And it never did!
My wife and I went back to the school’s jubilee in 2003, and as a mark of nostalgic respect, at 58, I donned the shorts and singlet again and did a couple of 3k laps on my own – on manicured grounds! No mud! No screaming physed master! No cow bogs! No electric fences.... Sadly, some things have not changed for the better…..
My two brothers and I gained access to Saint Kentigern College not through church connections, etc, but because my Dad was an earthmoving contractor who did the site works for the original college. We were State housing raised in Tamaki and attended St Columba's Church (only so we could apply for enrolment) before it crossed the border over to Pakuranga.
We all grew up with inferiority complexes, which showed itself in my case in my acerbic tongue and disrespect for all kinds of authority. After being threatened with expulsion for ringing our French teacher, Butch Martin, after-hours with threatening phone calls (Doogs told me Butch was on the edge of a breakdown....), I finished Upper Sixth having topped the College in Geography but refused the prize because Spanner didn't like us sending up his accent ("feshtoons of island arrkkks"). In real life it was all Tony Banbrook's fault (his mimicry was better than mine), but I got the blame. Yes, I was a victim even back then!!! After Barry Dudley drew blood on Banbrook, Garry Keenan, Michael Hall, and my backsides (and we were only copying each other's maths homework at lunch... Mr Napier caught us and rejoiced in his opportunity for revenge by dobbing us in to Duds - and for you younger old-boys - NO ONE could cane like Mr Dudley - not even Jack Paine), I think I realised it's dumb to go through life with a chip on your shoulder - coz it hurts your backside too much!
I have been a Christian minister now for 32 years, live 10 minutes drive from the Olympic site, married to the one (Aussie) woman, run 56 marathons and ultras, go to Zimbabwe and Mozambique regularly in missions development programs, am the National Coordinator of New Life Churches of Australia, have an open house in Sydney (a family of seven relocating Zimbabweans live with us at present) - and all in all live an extremely fulfilling and contented life. What brought the change? Well. here's my effort to follow Scott Stewart's challenge...
In the first week or so of my Upper Sixth year, Doogs called me into his office (a place I was somewhat familiar with - for the wrong reasons...). He looked at me with that look he could give you and said, "Well, Rrrrrrensforrrd, you have been a source of complaint from many of my staff over years. We have yet to decide on two prefects, and I have been thinking about you. Many of my staff are against this, but I think, ladddieeeee, that you have got what it takes to make a success of it. If I put your name forward, can you give me your assurance you will leave the masters alone and not bring disgrace to the position of prefect?"
I said I would and walked out stunned! My comrades in the underground army of teacher harassment didn't believe me when I told them this visit to the Laird's lair had not been for disciplinary reasons.
Looking back now, some 38 years later, I know this great man's insight and expressed trust was a major turning point in my life. He recognised (after all, he WAS a clergyman) the difference between cold-blooded rebellion and reactions from inner woundedness. I will always be very grateful for the opportunity and challenge Doog's presented to me - and I have tried hard ever since to honour the confidence he expressed in me.
Two years later, aged 20, second year Commerce at Auckland University, I surrendered my life to Jesus Christ - the first Christian in my family's known background. Several of my fellow student searchers for truth, meaning, and significance followed suit (Brian Pankhurst can tell some funny stories about his awakening) - ex SKC and some Kings and Tamaki College old boys - the extended Christian family knows no boundaries (even though both schools humiliated us on occasions at rugby and cricket!).
For the past 33 years, I have been based in the West Island; the lessons learned back then have proved continually invaluable in reaching across a broad spectrum of racial and social strata - there's good news for EVERYONE who will humble themselves... Humility was never my strong suit at School. But if Doogs was still alive I think he would be contented in seeing one of his experiments (Crapper MacLeay would have called it a very risky gamble) come off. The irony is that I and my brother Keith too are both doing what Doogs was good at doing - summed up in the Bible statement, "man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks upon the heart". So do His servants.
And good on you, Wayne, for what you're doing! Roll on the 2003 Jubilee celebrations! By then the warrants will all be expired and I'll come home to see how decrepit the rest of you have become too.... Oh, and if anyone knows what happened to Garry Keenan and Michael Hall, drop me a line. Thanks!
Life has never been boring for the Rensford brothers. On a visit to Auckland some years ago Brian reminisces, 'My brother and I sneaked into the grounds and ran two hard laps of the old cross-country course! We were passing the admin office on our way out (about 4.30), when we decided to see if MacFarlan was around. As we approached the door a gruff Scottish brogue barked, "come in, Rensfords!" We were staggered that he would remember us so many years (and students) later. Regressing immediately to teenagers, we said, "you still remember us, Sir?" To which he replied, "how could we forget, laddies?" It made our trip home!...'
Brian (789) Class of 1963 writes from Sydney. He remembers Mr Watson nearly dying of heart failure when Meharry fired a starting gun cartridge while Mr Watson's back was turned. Clutching his chest, Mr Watson marched Meharry to Dougal's office where he was administered six on the raw which made him some kind of icon among his 5A peers.
Brian was a prefect in 1963: according to him, not by popular appeal amongst the senior teachers with whom he regularly enjoyed plenty of verbal jousting, but thanks to Adam MacFarlan to whom he is grateful for his faith in his abilities. On leaving College Brian completed a commerce degree at Auckland and in the second year of study he became a committed Christian. Once University study was finished he moved to Melbourne to work on a farm and study for the ministry for a further year. He served in an Aborigine mission in Sydney slums the following year whilst truck driving and working as an auditor. In early 1969, he married his wife Elizabeth, and after a stint in an inner city mission, moved to Ballarat, Victoria.
Brian and Elizabeth recently celebrated 30 years of marriage along with Bruce Elliott (1212) Class of 1968, now living in Vancouver. They have been active in Church ministry throughout this time and currently serve as National Co-ordinators of New Life Churches of Australia, a fairly new association of Pentecostal Churches. Along the way he has worked as an office manager, company accountant, played Aussie Rules, run marathons (V C Thompson's efforts to hound him into the cross-country team has paid oft) and pastored in Sydney West for 25 years. For his 50th birthday he competed in the Victorian Ironman finishing as the sun went down. He would love to hear from Old Boys especially from the early days.
Keith Rensford (880) Class of 1964 was part of a group who regularly hid up on top of Elliott Hall for a little drink at lunchtimes. He was known to fall asleep in post lunch periods and spent his first year at University majoring in snooker! Keith later studied for the ministry, married a theology student from Seattle and they too have been in Church ministry for 30 years. Keith also runs daily to keep fit and has completed numerous marathons. He is the longest serving minister of the Shepparton city and orchard district in Victoria.
Barry Rensford (1175) Class of 1966, the youngest of the three brothers, runs his company, Auckland Grader Hire, from Massey. For relaxation he competes regularly in New Zealand drag racing, winning his class in the national titles a couple of years ago.
And for our non-Kiwi resident visitors, who think they know what MUD is, we finish with a school photo....
