This guy went to school on Monday looking pale with a tinge of grey and threatened to be sick about three times as we waited outside our friends house on the school run. He wasw quiet, kept closing his eyes and looked almost identical to the last time he had concussion. Had that been a possibility we’d have been at A&E.
This guy let me drive him to school that morning and whilst he insisted he’d be fine going in I spent the whole morning staring at my phone waiting for the call from school saying he was really ill, he never should have been sent in and I was a terrible parent for not keeping him home.
The call never came. At 5pm he messaged to say they were just leaving the cross country race he’d been at and half an hour later he comes out of school, happily chatting with his friend, a healthy glow across his face.
How are you, how was the race I tentatively ask. “It was really hard” comes the reply.
“I’m really sorry buddy, did you manage to complete?”
“Oh yeah” he says with a shrug. “I came first. And our 7 runners all placed in the top 12.”
That caused me to stop in my tracks, literally lost for words. How in the world do you go from grey in the morning to tired champ in the afternoon.
Fast forward to this morning (and be prepared for some serious parent pride as my heart is bursting) and the boy’s first time playing rugby for his new school. They’ve only had one games session so the teams were made up based on who put their hands up to play and whatever random order the coaches came to the list.
The head of sport wandered between the games, another coach for the senior team took on the role of referee and the coaches on the sideline leading the team were three U7 kids.
Bug loves his rugby but we knew secondary school would be a step up and that, just given the sheer number of children in his year group, it might take awhile for the teachers to see who is comfortable on the field and who needs extra support. Getting into the lead team for his year didn’t feel at all a given but, knowing the effort the boy puts into his games, we knew he’d be really disappointed in any other team.
As it turns out, our fears weren’t warranted. Bean and I arrived late to the game having walked Alice. As we approached the side line I head the coach saying “this kid is unreal”. Every call from the sideline was praise for a break he made or a tackle he got. When the head of sport came over, it was Bug’s name the coaches shared with him.
I started talking to some of the other dad’s just as the boys broke for half time. They had no idea which child was mine, but started talking about the boy who was making every tackle and the difference he was having on the pitch. I got to humbly say “ah, that’s my boy, he loves his rugby.”
At the end of the game I found myself in a conversation with the referee and a teacher from the opposition who again praised Bug as the “stand out player” before they knew he had any association with me. When I conceded he was my son the referee said “well I told the other boys in the huddle; he’s the only one who knows how to get around the opposition. Follow him and do what he does.” As I said my heart is swelling for my boy who walked off the pitch with his coach shouting over “you’re definitely in the As”.
The school is very clear - it’s a 7 year journey to the 1st team and your interest in sport and your body will change a lot over that time so this is one game, one morning. However, our fear was that his passion and commitment wouldn’t be seen amongst so much action and, so very happily, that fear got smashed!
What a champ!
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