It was the summer of 1985 and I was 13 years old. There were six of us, all the same age and all friends from school.

The slag heaps are massive. Huge man made mounds of 'slag' or waste from the old coal mines that litter this part of Wigan. Back in the day, the coalfields of Wigan were the most productive in the world. Most of Wigan's men were coalminers and they were joined by other men imported from across the UK and Ireland to fill the demand for the precious coal that fuelled the industrial revoulution.

By the 1980's the UK coal industry was dead. Mine shafts had been filled in and unstable fenced off sections littered the landscape that was our playground. The slag heaps had become the territory of dog walkers, trials bikes, BMX tricksters and kids just messing about like ourselves.

On this particular day we found ourselves sitting atop one of the largest heaps. We were looking out over our territory, deciding what to do next, when the voices came from behind. It was more boys...bigger boys...seven or eight of them....and they had their own ideas about what to do next.

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We eyeballed each other and I hoped that one of my friends would know one of the bigger boys. We shuffled around uncomfortably as a collective awareness emerged. We realised that none of us knew any of these lads and they appeared to be hostile.

Fortunately for me, I could shift like shit off a stick, so when I heard one of the bigger boys shout 'LET'S GET THEM.' I was off. Pushing Mark out of the way, I flew down the steep slope. Mark toppled over and became easy prey for the bigger boys. Paul was fast and was the first to the bottom. He darted into the bushes, straight through a line of bramble that ripped his clothes and cut his face to shreds. I followed Paul through the brambles as he cleared them with his face and we came out onto a field.

Paul and I ran together and I turned to see Andy and Dave exiting the brambles behind us. We continued on and I heard a voice from inside the brambles scream out 'GET THAT FAT BASTARD.' I knew that meant Jeff. He was the only one of us that was a fat bastard. Jeff didn't exit the brambles.

The four of us gathered at a stile on the far side of the field. The bigger boys hadn't bothered to chase us across the field. We could see them gathered at the top of the slag heap and we could see Mark and Jeff among them. We watched on as they disappeared over the hill into the heaps.

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We spent the next two hours walking around the perimeter of the slag heaps. None of us dared enter the heaps but none of us wanted to leave either. Eventually we found Mark waiting beside the stile that we had gathered next to a couple of hours before. As we approached we could see that he was soaking wet, shaking, and covered in mud. We all burst out laughing at him and to his credit, Mark joined in. I asked him where Jeff was and he laughed hard as he said 'They've still got him....he's doing pull ups over a pond.' We all laughed so hard that Jeff could probably hear it from the pond.

As we waited by the stile for Jeff to appear, Mark told us what he'd been up to. The bigger boys explained that they would be free to leave when they had completed their trials. Jeff and Mark had been made to do press ups and sit ups before being hauled over to the filthy pond. First they were made to swim across the pond and then they were made to hang from a tree over the pond. The final trial the pair would have to endure was pull ups on the tree. Mark had managed a few and had earned his release but poor Jeff couldn't do a pull up and was still falling into the pond when Mark made good his escape. Mark described his captors as 'Good lads really' who were 'just having a laugh.'

Jeff appeared through the brambles about twenty minutes later. He dragged himself across the field like a castaway on a desert island. The closer he got to us, the louder our laughter got and sure enough by the time Jeff reached us, he was laughing along with us.

Jeff hadn't managed a pull up but the boys had let him go as they'd been impressed with his efforts. He told us how the boys kept telling him how the exersise was doing him good and how they would be happy to meet him here anytime if he fancied some more exersise. 'THEY'RE RIGHT' we all said as we laughed again and began the long walk home.

STEEMONKEY🐒

This is a comedyopenmic entry so I nominate @auburn76 and @palas to have a bash.

Image sources.

The Rotherham Bugle

Wigan Pier Project