Touchline Reflections No. 1

“I have three kids”

 I have three kids, my step-son (11), a daughter of almost 4 and a 1-year-old boy.  The eldest has learned to appreciate the immense satisfaction of a lie-in at weekends, the others haven’t, unfortunately.

A few Sundays ago, my spirits lifted (through the haze caused by the spirits sunk the previous night) at the words “Daddy, can I have a snuggle?”  My daughter wasn’t taking pity on my state of self-induced destruction, she just wanted to get the best spot in front of the TV and settle down to watch her favourite video, “Hook”.  We were soon joined by the one-year-old who, having got up before the few birds still surviving in SW17, was now ready for a brief, but very welcome, bit of relaxation.

Hook is one of those brilliantly made films that appeals to children of all ages, especially hung-over ones, who need an excuse to just lie down and relax!  Robin Williams plays the part of a grown-up Peter Pan, who is now an over-worked corporate lawyer – I won’t spoil the plot.

In any case, I found myself cringing constantly as the film laid the foundations of the story – here’s this overworked family man, who makes promises he can’t keep, particularly when the promise entails getting away from work early to do stuff with the kids.  In particular, one scene made me shudder: the son is playing baseball and is pitched out (if that’s the correct term) because he keeps looking over to the spectator stand in the vain hope that his Dad will turn up in time to see him bat – and they lose the game.  You then see Dad screech up in his car to find the venue completely empty, with junk food wrappers blowing in the wind.

I’m immensely proud of my step-son and try to participate in things he does in and out of school, but confess that my work sometimes (often?) makes this impossible.  Even when it is possible, I have been known to turn up to a game and then spend much of the time on the phone and miss that critical moment – the moment when he scored a try.  Believe me, that’s actually worse than not turning up at all.

On a Sunday, however, the world is a better place (even with a hangover), because my mobile rarely rings, I don’t usually have conference calls and I can normally choose when to read and respond to my emails.  Even better than that, I pull my rugby shirt down over my somewhat-expanded waist and go down to OA’s to help coach “my boy’s” team.  This is now our 2^nd season at the club.

So, there we are: 6 coaches and 45 boys; it’s a fine, clear Autumn morning, the sun is out, the ground is soft and we have all the ingredients for a couple of hours of full-on, all-out fun!  Usual format – warm-ups, drills and coaching, followed by a few games to cement what the boys have learned in the drills we’ve just spent an hour or so practising.

It suddenly struck me this particular Sunday that we had less than a dozen Mums and Dads; then I realised that this is actually about the usual number.

As coaches, we give our time to pass on our passion for the game to another generation of players.  I started playing mini-rugby at 8 and played at school when I reached 11, giving up in my late 20’s.  The key reason that my ability and enthusiasm grew over the years was the active support of my parents, both in terms of getting me to training and matches, but also supporting and encouraging me to watch top quality matches and appreciate the skills of the heroes of that period (not that Props have too many heroic role models).  On one occasion, I broke my arm and JPR Williams was the A&E duty doctor – guess who signed my cast first!!  On a couple of later occasions, my parents had to drive me miles to the Royal Berks Hospital just in case he was on duty again (sorry Dad!).

The point I’m trying to make here is that supporting your sons (or daughters) is far more important to them than you might appreciate and no-one can rewind the games, the tries and the years when you weren’t there and you didn’t see them succeed in something they enjoy.  As a son, I’ve known this for about 30 years; as a father I’ve known it for a few years and as a coach, I’m only beginning to realise what this support really means to the players.  Giving them a lift to the club is important, but just think what a lift they’d get to know that you have seen them score!