Game On?
Keeping play at the heart & soul of sport
by Jennifer Murnaghan, posted on August 4th, 2010 in The Sports Issue
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I quite fancied myself as a Sport Billy growing up. Netball, field hockey and sailing saw me through school and university, ticking all the boxes in the team building, confidence boosting, friend gaining department, with the added bonus of keeping me fit in the process.
Rugby Union was also a firm favourite. Not to play, but more as a visual work-out, especially when the local schoolboys were playing! Every year, just before Easter, Dad and his pal Mikey would religiously head off to Lansdowne Road, sneaky hip flask in pocket, to watch our beloved Ireland play. Perched in front of the TV, we always hoped to spot the two familiar faces in the crowd and pray that our men would come home victorious.
In those days, sport was simple; it was still regarded as amateur and a great excuse to catch up with family and friends. Playing hockey on a chilly wintery morning never quite got the turnout of rugby tests, but we were pretty satisfied with our handful of hardy supporters who braved the cold conditions (Thanks Mum). In those days, we played, ate oranges, shook hands, and went home to catch up on homework. Game over. Simple.
So how do my memories compare to today’s sporting kids? When living in Sydney, our local park was transformed every weekend into a mini Olympic site. The quiet rambling fields were raided by swarms of pint sized soccer players, adorned in the latest high-tech paraphernalia, and supported by their very own latte-sipping entourage. Combine this with the Doggie-Manner school next door, and the entire scene was a parody of middle class life.
Down Under, people worship sport. In fact, I’ll claim it’s Australia’s national religion. Gold medal or Grand Slam, millions of dollars are invested in its sportsmen and women every year. With its dominant media presence, and winning at all costs mentality, the country is fast becoming a pressure cooker for sporting accolades. Win or get lost. It’s as simple as that.
In its basic form, sport is an unbeatable arena for achievement, character building and having a sense of belonging, particularly for children. It unites generations and can even bring nationalities together. However when the fun turns to fighting and aggression replaces kinship, isn’t it time to blow the final whistle?
In this highly competitive industry, it’s always refreshing to come across a genuine sporting hero. Majak Daw, a towering Sudanese teenager, living in Melbourne, has just become the first African to be drafted into the AFL. Australian Football League—or Aussie Rules—to all you non-Australians – is a traditional game here, and is known for its high speed, dexterous ball skills and super athletic players. It’s also known for its off field player misdemeanours as well as their interest in performance enhancing drugs.
Anyway, back to Majak. With a name made for marketing, this 19 year old athlete, survived the horrific ordeal of the Sudanese civil war and racial taunts as a refugee in Egypt. With that all behind him, he was spotted by his local club at basic level and hasn’t looked back since. When interviewed he is as humble as pie, but with a steadfast determination and strong head on his shoulders. He has fast become a role model not only for his fellow Sudanese community, but for teenage boys in general. Although highly competitive on the field, his generous nature, solid attitude and gentle candour ensures his popularity doesn’t get the better of him. When asked how he deals with his new found fame he replies, “I suppose I just embrace it and never say no to an autograph. You never know if it’s your last one.” This is a guy who many sportsmen could learn from.
If you’re like me and a parent to young children, it’s a worry to think of who and what your kids want to emulate. How do you explain the behaviour of Tiger Woods to a ten year old? For now though, with two boys under three, I have the luxury to ponder and learn from friends. I’ll be simply encouraging them to have fun.
Time spent with a bat and ball, playing catch with your favourite mit, or fishing with Dad allows the precious opportunity to talk and simply be together. Isn’t that a good enough sport in itself? Remove competition, and the genesis of fundamental appreciation emerges. Game on.
