My Life and Sport

A personal account of the importance of sport in my life

For my Dad x

I love sport. Playing, coaching, watching, listening, reading – whatever it is, I’ll do it. It’s the thing I know the most about, I am a total nerd when it comes to the subject. It’s become almost a running joke that it’s the biggest (only) part of my personality, but I’m in no means embarrassed by that fact. If you want to know Gloucester rugby’s best up and coming player, the best pundit–presenter combination across all sport or Mohamed Salah’s fantasy football price, I’m your man. And by the way, the answers are Louis Rees-Zammit (of course), Wayne Mardle and Dave Clark from Sky Sports Darts and £12.2 million. I hope all of the references in this article will land with at least one reader.

My earliest memories of sport are playing cricket, tennis and rugby at my local clubs as a boy. I also remember watching the 2003 Rugby World Cup video about England’s famous win. At one point I’d watched that tape so many times I knew every word of the commentary – a feat I was very proud of at the age of eight. Not only that, but my alarm clock at the time was rugby ball shaped and whenever it was set off it would utter Ian Robertson’s famous words “He drops for World Cup glory… IT’S UP, IT’S OVER, HE’S DONE IT!”.

A game I used to play as a child was trying to guess the away teams score from the classified football results on the radio. This was based on the cadence and pronunciation of the home team’s score. If the late, great James Alexander Gordon used a low tone for the home club and their score; you’d put a good bet on that match being a draw. Great fun for all the family. Well, maybe not all the family.

Memories of playing sport when I was growing up has created a lifelong love affair and I’m forever chasing those perfect and memorable moments. When playing sport with friends, I think there are two categories of memorable moments. These categories are best described as: chasing glory & glorious failure. As an amateur, true moments of greatness are very rare. But chasing these moments keeps me coming back. Roger Federer hits world class shots every game, I will hit a world class shot probably twice a year. I still remember the Djokovic-like backhand return winner I produced against my big serving, badminton specialist mate at Down Ampney tennis club. A single shot where I felt like Harry Potter with Voldemort – “A part of him lives within me, doesn’t it?”.

Glorious failure is the complete other end of the spectrum. I am talking shanks, duffs, air shots, chunks, thins – all of that is just in golf. When playing with the correct people these moments become hilarious. Chasing glory and glorious failure are so interlinked, and that is what makes these moments so funny. In the past, I have stupidly thought I had the touch to reproduce a dropshot like Andy Murray or have the Jimmy Anderson hooping inswinger in the locker. The outcome of which is normally the ball hitting the bottom of the net or the old man in the white coat raising both his arms out towards the pavilion.

The best thing about amateur sport is both these moments can happen during the same game. On the opening hole of a round this year I lost three balls from my tee shot(s), thankfully the trusty breakfast ball saved me from double figures. Later, my cousin and I both birdied the same hole, the likelihood of that happening is about 0.003% according to the stats on my phone – obviously pure elation followed.

I have been gifted my love of sport from my parents. My Mum was an English schools runner and a very good tennis player back in the day. For years she drove me to tennis training and encouraged me to get into coaching. She loves tennis and really wanted me to play a lot, probably why she was late picking me up from the tennis club every week. Every minute on the court matters I guess.

My Dad was a very good sportsperson as well, having been capped at under 16s for England rugby. He was a big, combative second row at over 100kgs in his teenage years. He also claimed he had the hands of a back, thinking he was like Maro Itoje, but in reality this might be slightly inaccurate. Dad also loved his cricket when younger and golf when he went into professional life. I still remember being asked to play golf by a great friend at around 14 years old and I was so nervous having barely picked up a club before. Daddy took me to the garden with a 7 iron and some air balls to teach me to interlock my fingers and keep my eye on the ball. I can’t remember that much about the round but I do remember leaving every putt short because I had only ever watched the Masters at Augusta on TV. South Cerney greens were not quite as quick.

Rugby was the sport we both loved and I have amazing memories of watching Gloucester and England when I was young. Gloucester were actually good back then, with my hero James Simpson-Daniel ripping it up on the wing. Please see my favourite try of all time and the Shed going nuts (watch from 2.55). Shameless plug I know. The Six Nations is always my favourite time of the year. When I was younger it meant having neighbours round and bacon butties at half time. Moaning at the refereeing was part of every game “He’s on the wrong side sir!” “Ref’s got a red shirt on!” – were my Dad’s favourite lines.

Unfortunately, my Dad became ill in 2009 and had serious health problems for 10 years following. This was the biggest part of my life and was difficult for many different reasons. A huge coping mechanism for me was sport and exercise. The mental health benefits of exercise are massive and it has always given me a headspace I like to be in. Going to the gym and lifting some average to small dumbbells in different ways is an amazing escape from my stresses. Playing tennis and just messing around with mates on court did the exact same thing.

Unfortunately, after a long period of ill health, my Dad passed away in March of this year. This is awful in the best of times but being in a national lockdown did make it very difficult for my family. Furthermore, the lockdown took away my exercise coping mechanisms. They say you don’t appreciate something until it is gone and that is so very true. Not being able to play tennis with mates or go to the gym by myself with some rubbish dance music playing in my earphones was really tough. Looking back now, the group workout I did in the sun over a video call was the highlight of my day, every day.

One thing I will forever be heartbroken about is the fact I never got the chance to play a round of golf with my Dad. He loved his golf and ever since the first lockdown finished in May I have played far too much of the frustrating game. I have loved every minute of it. Getting a round in with my uncles, cousins, best mates and Daddy’s old friends has been the best way to fill that void. Furthermore, I am using my Dad’s clubs which, for me, has made it even more special. It has and always will be more than just a round for me.

I have written this article as a thank you to my Dad. Thank you for taking me to rugby when I was young in your Subaru Impreza which I thought was super cool. Thank you for the countless hours of watching rugby (I am so glad the last game was a 6 Nations win for England over the Irish). Thank you for the golf clubs and thank you for my height, which has definitely helped my bowling in cricket and my serve in tennis.

Thank you for everything Daddy.

Tom x