Equally, it is accepted that, just as the fast bowler begins his run up, the batsman awaiting a 95mph delivery might cast an aspersion on his parentage and mental ability.
I do not see how this sort of attitude can possibly extend itself to individuals enjoying themselves on ski slopes, where courtesy and respect for the movement of others is important in maintaining safety. Thumping into someone else when you are both hurtling down La Chavanette is asking for a broken leg and a lawsuit. I was therefore bemused to find that a recommendation for one's bucket-list of achievements worth savouring, from the website Esquire, was to
Toboggan, aggressivelyand I am very happy to include this in the fast-maturing compilation of 101 Things I Refuse To Do Before I Die, a friendly compendium of achievements that hold not a smidgeon of interest.
I did a wee bit of tobogganing in my reckless youth, just enough to know that the effort in slogging up a slope in order to sit in a little tin can and plummet down again was barely worth it. Also that control of the toboggan was limited to tugging on a bit of rope. It was supposed to be the steering (or the brake, or the rudder or something) and did nothing at all. One went in one direction, downwards, until either overturning in a snow drift or stopping with a jolt when the ski slope turned into a car park.
Thus it is clear that "aggressive tobogganing" must be something like this "Oy, you! fatty, yes, you with the silly red pom-pom hat. Why don't you get your stupid great arse and your pathetic tin bucket out of my face and leave the slopes to the grown-ups, alright?"
Is that aggressive enough? I don't think I would care to try this, except perhaps on an elderly lady who had to be helped down off the ski-lift. I value my teeth. On second thoughts, as I also value my dignity and my reputation, this is one form of physical endeavour I shall happily eschew.