Suspicious Minds

I have a naturally suspicious mind.  (Can I blame that on my upbringing?).
Point in case, when I was no more than seven, I was entered for our school's American Equivalent of the Spelling Bee Contest - yes, I was pretty hot with the letters even then - and actually recognised for it too!  Anyway, and this could very possibly be the biggest, stupidest, most regretful thing I've ever done in my ridiculous life.  Not be entered for it - that was a bit of an accolade to be honest, and, sadly, one which wasn't ever repeated again EVER.  Anywhere.
There were no more than six of us - perhaps one for each class in our year, I don't remember the finer details,  only the humiliation and deep, deep personal shame at being so stupidly suspicious that it prevented me from spelling the simple word "match" properly.
"How do you spell the word "match?"" I was asked.  Easy, I thought.  Easy peasy. "As in 'Football Match'" it was added.
Aha, I thought!  This is a trick - it's not the obvious M.A.T.C.H - I bet there's a football equivalent that sounds the same but is spelt without the letter "t".  So convinced was I that there must be another spelling for the *other* word "match" that I confidently spelled out "M.A.C.H".  And I can still feel the sweaty chill of shame creeping up my spine towards my face even today. Mach - FFS!
Perhaps this is why I always had such a total aversion to Football.  And have only ever gone to one live mach in my entire life (during which I was constantly being told to shut up  - which I didn't 'get' because what's there to listen to anyway? Come on!).
And this was the last time my parents ever came to 'watch' me in anything I ever did at schoool, too.  Not that I blamed them (see?).