When I was a teenager I played a lot of rugby. Three or four of us, depending who was available, would travel to the games in the back of my mate's older brother's Robin Reliant van. Completely unrestrained, great joy being taken by the driver in ping ponging us around the inside of the car as he negotiated roundabouts on one-and-a half wheels.
Years later when I was in the fire service we were called to the aftermath of an accident involving a Reliant, where the only recognisable piece of the vehicle remaining was the engine. The fibreglass body had virtually exploded on impact, and it was a powerful illustration of just how potentially dangerous those trips to our Saturday afternoon rugby exertions had been.
Edited by argybargy on 04/12/2018 at 23:36
|