Ryanaldo starts his Football Career

This article took me back to my childhood. We used to be let loose for hours at a time to wander around the countryside, climb trees, visit farms and pass the time. I know that we control our kids much more than my parents did. All their activities are scheduled and we arrange transport for them there and back. Normal now, but my mum couldn't drive when I was my kids age and my dad had the car most of the time. We had to be independent.

Ryan had his first football (soccer) game today. He is playing for his school and we got him new boots and stuff, which he is very proud of. Football at that age is played a little like Aussie Rules Football with all the little kids running in groups wherever the ball is. Eighteen kids around the ball was quite normal. The windy and rainy weather brought back great memories of the freezing windy and wet days that I spent freezing playing for Largoward. We used to have to get up by ourselves, cycle at least part of the way there and back by ourselves regardless of the weather and deal with some very competitive team mates who didn't take too kindly to my wimpy play. Ryan on the other hand can expect to have his bag packed, schedule arranged, chauffeured to the game, snacks provided, encouragement offered and warm clothes provided on cold and wet days and his strip washed. Not complaining, just very different.

I hope he looks back on this stage of his life and doesn't feel that we controlled him too much. It's a tough one as the first commenter on the linked article notes. Every parents worst nightmare. How much should we cotton wool our kids?

Ryan's Australian cousins are being fast tracked for the Premier League by their over enthusiastic father. His game plan is to pay off the mortgage with their first contract, I think. I am just not that competitive and if any father thinks that they can run the sideline and coach a seven year old, they are mad. Just watch where the ball is, with its magnetic attraction and that is where the kids will be. The chances of positioning your child ready for a breakaway pass by yelling at them is reasonably good if you have a loud voice. The chance of the ball coming to them is about as low as winning the lottery.

All good fun all the same.

Communist Republic of Barnsley 1 Nouveau Riche Ex Communist Republic of Chelski 0

I wonder what sorts of odds you could have got for any of Cardiff, West Bromwich Albion, Barnsley or Portsmouth getting to the semi finals of the FA Cup, far less all of them. What a great competition. Barnsley last reached the semi finals ten days before the Titanic sank. My friend Daniel who grew up there reckons it is the most significant day in the history of the town. Who said that there was more to football than life and death?

Would you rather be a Chelsea player or an England Cricketer or Brendan Nelson today? Or just for James, how about an English Rugby Player? I am a bit surprised that he was surprised by Scottish reaction to that kind of win, ugly or not it was a win over the Auld Enemy. As always, very sweet.

Long Distance Runner

My brother Jocko McMarsbar is a devoted extreme runner. It fits well with his personality. He is a very driven person, personally and professionally. He does suicidal and crazy mountain races, cross country and other body punishing stuff.

Here is his son Gregor finishing the Dunfermline Half Marathon. Not sure how far he actually ran. He was obviously encouraged by his dad.

I can't remember my mum or dad ever doing anything much athletic and I have never enjoyed running by itself. I have tried it for social reasons, a few times, but I never got the bug. I used to like to climb hills in Scotland, but at my own pace and never too fast. The only time I did the kind of running that my brother liked was the Airthrey Race, which was held every year at the University of Stirling. It went from the Gannochy Sports Pavilion to the top of the nearest hill, Dumyat. As usual, I just turned up without any preparation and joined in. Hell going up and dangerous coming down at great speed. A great community event. I finished, which was enough for me. I can still remember that feeling of nausea when it was all over. That kind of body reaction screams madness to me and rather than inspiring me, makes me less inclined to participate in that kind of body abusing activity.

I am intrigued what sports and physical activities my kids will want to get involved with. They are game to try a little bit of this and a little bit of that. Their Australian cousins have a soccer mad dad, who has convinced himself that his retirement will be funded by their professional soccer contracts. I am not sure I am ready to push our kids the way he does. I just don't have the personality to be a soccer dad or for that matter any kind of competitive or aggressive booster for my kids chosen sport.

I realise I have inherited much of what my father embodied in his interaction with us in sport. I am perfectly supportive and have already taken them to sporting activities. Ryan likes Cricket and they both have enjoyed Circus School, but they are both in dabbling mode.

That sounds just like my interaction with sport. Perhaps that is just the way it will be. If I was to chose to be the hare or the tortoise, I would be one third hare and two thirds tortoise.

The Glory of Winning

Leaving aside all the Surrender of the Ashes Ho Ha, which you can find everywhere on the web, it is great to see a tremendous sporting challenge fulfilled. It was executed like a well planned business take over and entertaining at the same time.

England know how to compete. Australia know how to win.

Odd Sports

Bored of the Ashes? Need some exercise? Try these.