Yeah. You. Over here. But quietly. And quickly. Here’s the deal. Adam’s rugby season is over for another year. It’s been seven months of highs and lows which I’ve experienced from the touchline, in all weathers. Sun, rain, wind and lots of mud. I’ve cheered his every run and tackle, paid him £5 every time he’s scored, and generally annoyed opposing teams with My noisy cheerleading antics.
But now it’s over. He’s entering exam season. Important exams. I’ve devised a study timetable and he’s chained to his desk for the next three months, with not a rugby ball in sight. Pre-season doesn’t start until August again. That’s five months away, people. FIVE MONTHS! How on earth am I going to survive until then? Which is why I’m writing this. I’m in urgent need of advice and support.
Those of you thinking I’m reliving my youth vicariously through my sixteen year old son are of course well wide of the mark. I mean, how ridiculous. Yes, I was an incredibly average schools rugby player who never made the first team, but that’s not the point. At all. I want the best for my son, as I do the girls. The fact he’s incredibly good at my favourite sport and a rising star is a mere side issue.
Which brings me to the fifth member of the Black clan. My wonderful wife, Fionnuala. Who has patiently endured my rants about team selection and training tactics throughout the winter. To the point she has suggested I take over the team, were it not for my complete lack of experience and qualifications to do so. There’s also the small matter that Adam would be mortified and probably never speak to me again.
Fionnuala no doubt has a list of chores as long as my arm to occupy me over the coming months. Chores that have been screaming out for completion, yet been blindly ignored as I’ve researched upcoming teams via snooping on their Facebook pages and Twitter feeds. Obsessive? Moi? How very dare you! I’m just very hands on when it comes to rugby. And decidedly hands off at home improvement.
I wanted to share this with you all in confidence as I know Fionnuala never reads this blog and none of you would ever rat on me. I trust you implicitly. But if you do happen to bump into her, then this conversation never happened, right? I’m sure you can all relate to, and empathise, with my predicament. Especially all you female readers with equally work shy, sports mad spouses.
Which is where I need your help. There are approximately 20 empty Saturday mornings until pre season starts up again. How do you suggest I occupy them. Should I find a new hobby perhaps? Hang gliding? Origami? How about ultra marathons. Isn’t a mere 26.2 miles a bit of a wimp out these days? I’d be interested to hear your comments on my dilemma. I’m not one to complain much but….
Let me know your suggestions?
And remember, don’t tell Fionnuala!