Dear Sport, I Love You
As far back as I can remember, I was bouncing a footy through the home or dribbling around a soccer ball and kicking it against walls (sorry mum).
I was a small kid — both in stature and self-belief. I lacked drive and motivation, but sport was something exhilarating I could sink my teeth into. Playing sport boosted my confidence as I formed close bonds with others and discovered physical capabilities.
Since my childhood, the AFL has been a huge binding force with my dad, and we’ve shared some special memories. I also recall — when learning about Australia’s indigenous people and history — AFL being the teacher I paid the most attention to.
I grew up during a golden era of Australian cricket and I loved beach, backyard or street cricket with my brother, neighbours, family friends and friends. Some of my favorite holiday memories were sliding around clay courts and playing tennis with my grandparents in the beating summer sun.
As an 8-year old, I stumbled upon soccer (football) and never looked back. If AFL, cricket and tennis connected me to Australia, then ‘the world game’ united me with the rest of the globe. I was a fairly uninterested and rebellious student, so I was taught about geography via the soccer cultures and traditions across Europe, Asia, Africa and The Americas.
To me, sport is a universal language that defies geographical and socio-economic barriers, connecting us as one human race. During a recent trip to New York, I really felt the power of this connection through sport.
NYC was buzzing when I visited in 2018, but I felt like a tourist going to comedy shows and jazz clubs and eating (inhaling) deli sandwiches and pizza slices. I struggled to connect with the soul of the city, so I decided to play a pick-up game of soccer.
To me, sport is a universal language that defies geographical and socio-economic barriers, connecting us as one human race.
The group of players were almost entirely Hispanic and Latino Americans, cracking private jokes, playing hip-hop and smoking weed. It was a fairly rough and disorganised environment, and I was very clearly an outsider. In the pre-game, and early on in the match, no one passed me the ball or acknowledged me. It was as though I was invisible.
Eventually, I got myself involved in the contest with a few tackles and a goal. One of the players asked my name, and after I yelled it to him, another guy laughed and said; “he’s got a name… you earned it”. I vividly remember his words and the palpable shift of energy. It’s painfully corny and cliché, but his acceptance felt like I was the starring role in a movie.
The other players began to trust, respect and engage me with encouragement, head nods, winks and taps on the shoulder. I finally felt part of the group, and for the first time, I truly felt part of the city.
Sport also makes me emotional. Now, I’m a pretty soppy and sensitive guy at the best of times, but there’s something about a sport montage and uplifting music that triggers waterworks for this sport tragic.
When Giggs scored that iconic goal vs. Arsenal and ripped his shirt off celebrating in 1999, I fell in love with the beautiful game. Looking past the cheesy music, the outpouring during EJ Whitten’s final lap of the MCG still gets me, as did the tears shed by Dirk Nowitzki’s long-time shooting coach.
My heart was broken when Sergio Aguero scored a last-minute stunner and Nick Malceski sealed the flag for the Swans, but John Aloisi taking the Socceroos to the World Cup and Stuart Dew single-handedly ripping Geelong apart are unforgettable moments.
At 17 years old I was fortunate enough to see Hawthorn win a flag in the flesh, and at 25, I got to step foot in Old Trafford and attend a Man United vs. Liverpool derby. Two childhood dreams.
Perhaps this is due to my luck and privilege, but — behind limitations on seeing family and friends — being unable to play team sport has been one of the most frustrating things I’ve lost during COVID-19.
Seemingly, like everyone else in Melbourne, I became a keen runner (which has since dissipated). Now, I’m getting back into yoga for the first time in years, but I sense it’s merely yet another stop gap. Having a ball at my feet or a racquet in my hand is what I actually want, and I desperately miss the primal nature of physical competition.
Sadly, the quality of consuming professional sport has significantly decreased as well. Without fans in the flesh, and in full force, sport is a shell of its former self. Whether it’s 5,000 or 50,000 packed into a stadium, the thunderous passion of fans is unparalleled. They are the lifeblood of the game, and sport is next to nothing without them.
Whether it’s 5,000 or 50,000 packed into a stadium, the thunderous passion of fans is unparalleled. They are the lifeblood of the game, and sport is next to nothing without them.
To sport’s naysayers (who have probably stopped reading by now), I hear you. Not all that glitters is gold. I used to place sport atop an impossible pedestal of beauty and perfection, but as I’ve matured and developed other interests, I’ve come to recognise its flaws.
Sport can produce negative athletic, coaching and parental role models as the desire to win at all costs leads to cheating, corruption and other harmful behaviors. For those who aren’t physically gifted, sport can crush their self-esteem. For those who build their life around turning professional and don’t make it, sport can crush their dreams. Although diminishing over time, toxic masculinity and gender inequality are still rife, and in many ways, sport promotes a culture of violence. The sacrifices, burnouts and injuries of sport can permanently damage people’s lives.
Personally though, there are so many magical nuggets of wisdom sport has offered me. Playing team sport brings me a sense of community, connection and brotherhood. Playing individual sport helps me access a rarely felt auto-pilot flow state, whereby I separate from my thinking head and enter into the muscle memory of my feeling body.
Sport shaped my university studies and has made up the bulk of my career over the last decade, taking me interstate, overseas, and to the other side of the globe. From teamwork, leadership, communication, discipline and accountability, to following my instinct, acceptance of self and acceptance of others, sport has embedded me with powerful life lessons.
From teamwork, leadership, communication, discipline and accountability, to following my instinct, acceptance of self and acceptance of others, sport has embedded me with powerful life lessons.
My life has been so enriched by sport. Sport has — and will always have — a special place in my heart.
Dear sport, I love you.
