This afternoon was certainly very interesting. Having just come off my lunch break, in which I read some new stories on RUComingOut, (the website I donated my own story to), I was approached by a customer. Nothing strange there of course, but this customer was female. Admittedly she was very pretty, but didn't have a lot of substance in the brain department. However, this didn't put off the male members of staff from the shop who stood with tongues hanging out ogling in her general direction. After I had served her and she had sauntered out, one of the staff from the shop came over and started talking to me.
I must point out at this moment in time, for those of you that don't know, I work in a single-manned post office in a convenience store. Technically, I work alone, but of course I talk and mingle with the store staff as the day progresses. I call them my colleagues, as we are all on the same payroll!
Anyway. Chris, this member of staff, came over and started talking to me. He instantly said, "You can put your eyes back in and stop checking her arse out now!"
Ah. Of course. He didn't know. Yes, I came out in November to everyone on Facebook and Twitter, but work being work, I realised at this exact moment in time that I don't have any of the shop staff as friends on Facebook or as followers on Twitter. Not a single one of them had read my story or even had an inkling of me being gay. Without trying to sound demeaning, the shop staff aren't the brightest bunch. A couple of them can be extremely traditional in their approach to everything. Chris is a nice enough chap, albeit a bit childish, however in their mind, I was still on the "default setting". In their mind, playing football and being a sportsman automatically means I like girls. In their mind, I am straight.
Here we go again.
Of course, I could have corrected him there and then and said something along the lines of, "Why would I check her out, I'm gay", but something stopped me. That feeling I am all used to feeling. That little speck of doubt etched on to the back of my brain that screamed, "Don't do it, they'll turn against you!", and although most of me knew that was unlikely, the smallest and most strongest part of me said otherwise. My mind went back instantly to the days of being 16 and 17, crying into my pillow just wanting to be "normal" and just unable to tell anyone I wasn't. But what was concerning me more was the fact that I had told myself that I was completely, 100% comfortable with who I am yet I was unable to tell a colleague. Why? What was stopping me?
For 20 minutes or so, I sat and thought. Custom was sparce, as it was deep into the afternoon and most people had settled their business for the day. I had a cup of tea in my right hand, a rich tea biscuit in the other, and I thought. What had stopped me telling Chris there and then? Maybe it was the idea that I might have caused trouble by telling him, not wanting to rock what is a very stable and enjoyable boat at the moment. Maybe I was a little afraid of being taunted? But then, why would Chris do that when no one else had? Maybe I thought his childish ways may take precedence and he was simply going to laugh? I don't know what stopped me, but before I had let the chance go completely, I went out to the stock room, and I told him.
Sure, it was certainly easier than the first time I ever told anyone, or telling my parents, but the nerves were still there. I was coming out again, something I knew I would have to do, but all of a sudden I felt rather frustrated. Chris was completely fine about it, (even if some of his phrases, i.e. "Its your choice", were technically wrong), but that wasn't the reason I was a little irked. I was annoyed because this is me. I shouldn't have felt like that over an aspect of my life. The life that I, and everyone else, have accepted entirely. I was, and still am rather disheartened at the fact that I need to keep coming out to people though. I knew I would have to, but it does get a little tiresome. I want to be free to live the rest of my life and although I am in a much better place now, I don't want to keep coming out to new people I meet. Why should I?
Chris isn't a new person I have met. I have been at my current job for over a year, yet surprisingly, this was the first time that an "opportunity" presented itself for me to tell him who I am. I am pleased that I (eventually) pounced on it, but it has played on my mind a little that I couldn't do it immediately. What's more, I imagine Chris will now go on to tell the rest of the staff, and although I am completely fine with that, I do imagine more questions and statements coming my way.
Sometimes, I just wish people said, "Great", and just carried on. For we are all normal after all.
Thursday 28 February 2013
Sunday 24 February 2013
"A Cricketing Dream" - The Greatest Read
A few days ago, I was browsing Amazon and fell across a fictional cricket book. These are not very common, and I remember looking avidly a couple of years ago for something similar so thought I would invest £7 in a fictional story of the sport I have fallen in love with. Only upon purchasing it, (and subsequent despatch), did I realise I had purchased a book aimed at 10-12 year olds. Great. I had wasted an albeit small amount of money on a pointless book that would be useless.
It turned up yesterday, and has sat on the table looking forlorn and wasted. Only this afternoon, whilst trying not to drift off to sleep after a pretty hectic weekend did I pick it up. Reading the blurb was pretty tragic, but I opened to the first page to be treated to a first chapter that was a whole two pages long, and read it. Despite obvious doubts, what I was treated to was 62 pages of fictional brilliance. Yes, it's aimed at 10 year olds and to a 10 year old, it might seem like a story of inspiration, but to a 21-year old cricketer who knows the game at least a little bit, it was a story of absolute hysterical comedy.
Comedy you say? It certainly wasn't intended to be, but towards the end I found I was crying with laughter. There were literally tears streaming down my face, and now I shall tell you why.
I know it is a fictional story, but bear with it and think about the ridiculousness of it if this were to happen in real life, or in any other sport. The story is about a 13-year old lad called Matty. Matty is the son of a successful club cricketer, nicknamed 'Typhoon' for his immense hitting power and match-winning performances for successful side Southlands, who won national competitions and honours. Except Matty isn't a very good sportsman. He's tried his hand at football, tennis and a handful of others, and found that he is useless at all of them. Walking past Southlands Cricket Club one day, he sees a group of similarly-aged people training and decides to go in and get involved. In his first training session, he is ridiculed by the others for being terrible, not being able to catch a ball, hit the ball or even stop the ball in the field. He is persuaded to carry on by the coach, (nicknamed 'Simple') and he comes back to training for the following few weeks. Except he isn't really very good. However, he plays in one game for his Under 14 side, getting no runs whatsoever and playing rubbish in the process. He is invited along to watch the senior side on a Saturday afternoon play in the top tier of their senior league to see how it is done and somehow becomes 12th man for them. This is the point where I begin to get sceptical. Why would a 13-year old who has only been involved with the club for 3 weeks, be 12th man for a premier division side? What if he's needed on the field? Anyway. He isn't needed, and he carries on doing 12th man duties throughout the rest of the season, where the senior side reach the 'National Cup' final. A huge achievement for the team.
In real life terms, the National Club Championship Final is a match played by two very, very good club sides at Lords after a gruelling season of cup ties played nationally. Lords, "The Home of Cricket", is one of the greatest venues on the planet. This 'National Cup' final is the fictional equivalent, played at 'The London Cricket Ground'. In a phenomonal version of events, the team's usual scorer is taken ill on the day, meaning the team does not have an official scorer. Somehow, despite only being involved for a few weeks, this Matty lad, at 13 years old, is invited to score for the National Cup Final. How does he know what to do?! Anyway. This is merely the tip of the iceberg...
Southlands are facing holders Elton CC in the final, who possess some of the best club players in the country. They even have a former Pakistani international in their midst, so they are formidable opponents. In the warm-up, two of Southlands' players collide in the field as they try and catch the same ball, and are ruled out. With two players down, the coaching staff scour the crowd for replacements, before ... For some unknown and crazy reason, someone suggests that Matty plays.
"No f***ing way!", I exclaimed as I burst out in a fit of laughter!
I know this is fictional, but it is ludicrous. Matty has played 1 game of cricket EVER, scoring no runs AT ALL against his OWN AGE GROUP, yet all of a sudden he is being called up to play in the biggest match that club cricket has? Facing former international players? Was there literally no one else? Was there not anyone else from the club watching who could step in? Someone who has actually scored a run? I cannot explain how ridiculous that is! It is the equivalent of starting to play football, not really being able to kick the ball at all, and still being called up to the play in the FA Trophy final at Wembley. Or not being able to hit a tennis ball with a racket whatsoever yet still being invited to play at Queens on a wildcard. Are 10 year olds that are reading really going to think that it is possible to do that?
Anyway. Matty does play. For some unfathomable reason, after going to just 4 training sessions and playing in 1 largely unsuccessful game, this 13 year old boy is playing at Lords in a senior cup final. Naturally, he is stuck at fine-leg, (although given the ridiculous nature of the story, I wouldn't have been surprised if he opened the bowling), and Southlands start well. The reigning champions, Elton, are 12-4, when their batsman balloons the ball up in the air towards Matty at fine-leg. I was half-expecting him to take a flying one-hander, but naturally, he drops it. Then he starts crying. Of course he does. That batsman goes on to make 130-odd and Elton post a challenging target. Matty is left thinking he's let everyone down.
I forgot to mention also, that this match is on TV. As if the whole occasion wasn't weird enough!
So, Southlands begin their chase and start off well, needing something like 50 off 80 balls with 7 wickets in hand, when a collapse ensues. The middle order buckle and it comes down to needing 13 runs off 2 overs, with 2 wickets in hand. 13-year old Matty is padded up, due to come in at Number 11 at Lords in a National Cup final, having never scored a run in his entire life at any sort of level. Nothing is said about the fear he must be feeling. No mention of the emotion of the situation. I can tell you now, if that was me in that situation, as a 21-year old with 3 centuries to his name, (albeit against opposition that are nowhere near national standard), I would be absolutely terrified. Yet this kid is absolutely fine? Yeah. Right. Eventually, Southlands scrape their way to needing 6 off 2 balls, then the Number 10 batsman gets out. The equation is this:
Southlands need 6 to win off 1 ball. With the Number 11 batsman, a 13-year old novice, coming in to face his first ball against a former Pakistani international bowler. Can you guess what happens?
Of course it does. Despite having a total of 0 career runs, SOMEHOW, young Matty, at 13 years old in front of TV cameras, manages to dispatch a presumably pacey former international bowler for 6 to win the cup for Southlands. I KNOW IT'S FICTIONAL, but I was quite literally rolling around on my bed laughing my head off. What nonsense is this? What was I actually reading?
If this is a book aimed at 10-12 year olds, isn't it going to make them think that they should be playing at Lords in a few years? Wouldn't it make them think that they can hit international bowlers out of the park with ease? I did get the impression that it might make some youngsters irrationally think they should be playing in these sorts of games at their age. But I only thought about it properly after I wiped the tears from my eyes. It was remarkable.
After thinking I had wasted £7 on a children's book, it was in fact £7 spent on the most entertaining read I've had in a long while. 10/10! (But don't read it if you're actually 12 years old! Don't put yourself under that sort of pressure!)
It turned up yesterday, and has sat on the table looking forlorn and wasted. Only this afternoon, whilst trying not to drift off to sleep after a pretty hectic weekend did I pick it up. Reading the blurb was pretty tragic, but I opened to the first page to be treated to a first chapter that was a whole two pages long, and read it. Despite obvious doubts, what I was treated to was 62 pages of fictional brilliance. Yes, it's aimed at 10 year olds and to a 10 year old, it might seem like a story of inspiration, but to a 21-year old cricketer who knows the game at least a little bit, it was a story of absolute hysterical comedy.
Comedy you say? It certainly wasn't intended to be, but towards the end I found I was crying with laughter. There were literally tears streaming down my face, and now I shall tell you why.
I know it is a fictional story, but bear with it and think about the ridiculousness of it if this were to happen in real life, or in any other sport. The story is about a 13-year old lad called Matty. Matty is the son of a successful club cricketer, nicknamed 'Typhoon' for his immense hitting power and match-winning performances for successful side Southlands, who won national competitions and honours. Except Matty isn't a very good sportsman. He's tried his hand at football, tennis and a handful of others, and found that he is useless at all of them. Walking past Southlands Cricket Club one day, he sees a group of similarly-aged people training and decides to go in and get involved. In his first training session, he is ridiculed by the others for being terrible, not being able to catch a ball, hit the ball or even stop the ball in the field. He is persuaded to carry on by the coach, (nicknamed 'Simple') and he comes back to training for the following few weeks. Except he isn't really very good. However, he plays in one game for his Under 14 side, getting no runs whatsoever and playing rubbish in the process. He is invited along to watch the senior side on a Saturday afternoon play in the top tier of their senior league to see how it is done and somehow becomes 12th man for them. This is the point where I begin to get sceptical. Why would a 13-year old who has only been involved with the club for 3 weeks, be 12th man for a premier division side? What if he's needed on the field? Anyway. He isn't needed, and he carries on doing 12th man duties throughout the rest of the season, where the senior side reach the 'National Cup' final. A huge achievement for the team.
In real life terms, the National Club Championship Final is a match played by two very, very good club sides at Lords after a gruelling season of cup ties played nationally. Lords, "The Home of Cricket", is one of the greatest venues on the planet. This 'National Cup' final is the fictional equivalent, played at 'The London Cricket Ground'. In a phenomonal version of events, the team's usual scorer is taken ill on the day, meaning the team does not have an official scorer. Somehow, despite only being involved for a few weeks, this Matty lad, at 13 years old, is invited to score for the National Cup Final. How does he know what to do?! Anyway. This is merely the tip of the iceberg...
Southlands are facing holders Elton CC in the final, who possess some of the best club players in the country. They even have a former Pakistani international in their midst, so they are formidable opponents. In the warm-up, two of Southlands' players collide in the field as they try and catch the same ball, and are ruled out. With two players down, the coaching staff scour the crowd for replacements, before ... For some unknown and crazy reason, someone suggests that Matty plays.
"No f***ing way!", I exclaimed as I burst out in a fit of laughter!
I know this is fictional, but it is ludicrous. Matty has played 1 game of cricket EVER, scoring no runs AT ALL against his OWN AGE GROUP, yet all of a sudden he is being called up to play in the biggest match that club cricket has? Facing former international players? Was there literally no one else? Was there not anyone else from the club watching who could step in? Someone who has actually scored a run? I cannot explain how ridiculous that is! It is the equivalent of starting to play football, not really being able to kick the ball at all, and still being called up to the play in the FA Trophy final at Wembley. Or not being able to hit a tennis ball with a racket whatsoever yet still being invited to play at Queens on a wildcard. Are 10 year olds that are reading really going to think that it is possible to do that?
Anyway. Matty does play. For some unfathomable reason, after going to just 4 training sessions and playing in 1 largely unsuccessful game, this 13 year old boy is playing at Lords in a senior cup final. Naturally, he is stuck at fine-leg, (although given the ridiculous nature of the story, I wouldn't have been surprised if he opened the bowling), and Southlands start well. The reigning champions, Elton, are 12-4, when their batsman balloons the ball up in the air towards Matty at fine-leg. I was half-expecting him to take a flying one-hander, but naturally, he drops it. Then he starts crying. Of course he does. That batsman goes on to make 130-odd and Elton post a challenging target. Matty is left thinking he's let everyone down.
I forgot to mention also, that this match is on TV. As if the whole occasion wasn't weird enough!
So, Southlands begin their chase and start off well, needing something like 50 off 80 balls with 7 wickets in hand, when a collapse ensues. The middle order buckle and it comes down to needing 13 runs off 2 overs, with 2 wickets in hand. 13-year old Matty is padded up, due to come in at Number 11 at Lords in a National Cup final, having never scored a run in his entire life at any sort of level. Nothing is said about the fear he must be feeling. No mention of the emotion of the situation. I can tell you now, if that was me in that situation, as a 21-year old with 3 centuries to his name, (albeit against opposition that are nowhere near national standard), I would be absolutely terrified. Yet this kid is absolutely fine? Yeah. Right. Eventually, Southlands scrape their way to needing 6 off 2 balls, then the Number 10 batsman gets out. The equation is this:
Southlands need 6 to win off 1 ball. With the Number 11 batsman, a 13-year old novice, coming in to face his first ball against a former Pakistani international bowler. Can you guess what happens?
Of course it does. Despite having a total of 0 career runs, SOMEHOW, young Matty, at 13 years old in front of TV cameras, manages to dispatch a presumably pacey former international bowler for 6 to win the cup for Southlands. I KNOW IT'S FICTIONAL, but I was quite literally rolling around on my bed laughing my head off. What nonsense is this? What was I actually reading?
If this is a book aimed at 10-12 year olds, isn't it going to make them think that they should be playing at Lords in a few years? Wouldn't it make them think that they can hit international bowlers out of the park with ease? I did get the impression that it might make some youngsters irrationally think they should be playing in these sorts of games at their age. But I only thought about it properly after I wiped the tears from my eyes. It was remarkable.
After thinking I had wasted £7 on a children's book, it was in fact £7 spent on the most entertaining read I've had in a long while. 10/10! (But don't read it if you're actually 12 years old! Don't put yourself under that sort of pressure!)
Wednesday 20 February 2013
500
It's a strange thing to do. Keeping a blog of all your memories, stories, crises and junctures. All the ups and downs that life brings, of which I've had my fair share. All the naive moments, all the mad moments, all the magical moments. The life-defining times, all captured in words. I am by no means a celebrity, or famous. I am no one of importance, or of note. I am just the average Joe. Except no one is really average are they? Everyone has their moments of brilliance. Sometime in your life, whether you are 15 or 50, you have or will experience a time that changes you. I think I've had mine, and I'm all the better for it. For, as Andy Warhol said once said, "Everyone is famous for 15 minutes".
3 years, 3 months and 7 days ago, I wrote my first blog. I "came out" as bisexual in that post, at the age of 18, but with the confusion still reigning strong, it took me time to discover the real me. Only once you are comfortable with yourself can you truly work on becoming the person you have the potential to be. Only once you have discovered your true blessing can you concentrate on the things that are important. If you are reading this, struggling with feelings that you are confused about, wondering why you are different to everyone else or feeling down for apparently no reason, I am always here. Regardless of whether you are family, a friend, an acquaintance, someone I went to school with, an old friend I don't talk to anymore or even a stranger. I will always try and help. I know what these feelings feel like, and I despair at the idea of people feeling the same. I am always here. Always.
If you look closely enough, you can pretty much map my madness throughout the 500 posts. All those times in Manchester, the whole days spent soaking up the sun playing cricket, or drinking Jack Daniels under the setting sun before a summer night. Memories. They are so, so important. And I am so, so glad I have them all laid out in front of me in prose. I will carry on writing. I told a friend the other day that I hope to carry on writing and writing and writing in here for my whole life. Having your whole life written out in front of you, allowing you to look back on your own times. How amazing is that?
Of course, it is also important to look to the future. But not in the same way I have done in the past. In the past, I have put pressure on myself to secure a future too quickly and without patience. Now, I just let events take their course. It's so much better. And life levels out as we get older. I am only 21 after all. I've only lived a quarter of the life I am promised, and we have so much more to look forward to. So much more to write about.
Full speed ahead.
3 years, 3 months and 7 days ago, I wrote my first blog. I "came out" as bisexual in that post, at the age of 18, but with the confusion still reigning strong, it took me time to discover the real me. Only once you are comfortable with yourself can you truly work on becoming the person you have the potential to be. Only once you have discovered your true blessing can you concentrate on the things that are important. If you are reading this, struggling with feelings that you are confused about, wondering why you are different to everyone else or feeling down for apparently no reason, I am always here. Regardless of whether you are family, a friend, an acquaintance, someone I went to school with, an old friend I don't talk to anymore or even a stranger. I will always try and help. I know what these feelings feel like, and I despair at the idea of people feeling the same. I am always here. Always.
If you look closely enough, you can pretty much map my madness throughout the 500 posts. All those times in Manchester, the whole days spent soaking up the sun playing cricket, or drinking Jack Daniels under the setting sun before a summer night. Memories. They are so, so important. And I am so, so glad I have them all laid out in front of me in prose. I will carry on writing. I told a friend the other day that I hope to carry on writing and writing and writing in here for my whole life. Having your whole life written out in front of you, allowing you to look back on your own times. How amazing is that?
Of course, it is also important to look to the future. But not in the same way I have done in the past. In the past, I have put pressure on myself to secure a future too quickly and without patience. Now, I just let events take their course. It's so much better. And life levels out as we get older. I am only 21 after all. I've only lived a quarter of the life I am promised, and we have so much more to look forward to. So much more to write about.
Full speed ahead.
Sunday 17 February 2013
All Things Football
I was going to call it 'All Things Soccer' for some reason... For one moment, I came over all American... Luckily I came to my senses.
I don't think this refereeing comeback is going to happen. I sent an e-mail on Monday that got no reply, sent another on Wednesday to a different member of the refereeing department that got no reply, and then decided to ring them on Friday. They did pick up the phone, (which at least proves they are there!), but upon me telling them I wished to re-register, followed by my name, there was a long and hallowed silence. So much so, that I had to say that strange, "Hello?" in a tone that suggested you may have lost signal, or been hung up on. Neither had happened, but something tells me I am not forgotten in that place. Eventually, I was told that the manager would ring me back "ASAP, in case there is any trouble". What does that mean? "In case there is any trouble?" Like I'm going to ring them to express my interest in registering once more and then verbally threaten them and their families? What were they expecting?
It also goes without saying - They never rang me back. I'll wait until Tuesday to ring again, and then give up if they palm me off once more. I'd have received the message by then!
However, with my officiating comeback hanging in the balance, I did at least make another comeback to compensate this morning. I noticed a wee message on Twitter about how the mighty Mowsbury Athletic were lacking a keeper, so went downstairs to wake up Father Mitten and announce that I wanted to come out of retirement, albeit temporarily. Glad to get another keeper on board, he said yes of course, and this morning I donned the gloves in a triumphant 2-1 victory against Kempston Hammers. Times have changed since I left in the early Summer of 2011. Having gained promotion from Division 3 to Division 2, they got promoted once more in the 2011-12 season up to Division 1, carrying on the remarkable record of getting promoted in every season they have played in. They are also doing well this season, now sitting 2nd, one point off the leaders with a game in hand on the team behind them - so another promotion may well be on the cards.
The game itself was a good one. The standard had increased dramatically from the heady days of Divisions 4 and 5 that I remember when the side first started up. Both teams wanted to get the ball down and pass it around which meant good viewing. I had my first shot to save a few minutes in which was a pretty tame effort straight at me, (which was friendly of them!), but conceded not long after as their striker raced on to a through ball and slotted past me, off the post, and into the net. 1-0 down but there wasn't a lot I could do about it. After another chance for Kempston that I saved from point-blank range, we equalised about 10 minutes later, after a header from left-winger Shaun Cafferty, but almost immediately, their Number 9 broke through on goal again, only to be bought down by our centre-back, Dean Leydon, who saw a red card being pointed in his direction. I made a good save from the resulting free-kick, but we went in at half-time on level terms, but one man down.
In the second half, and the low sun in my eyes, we started well as makeshift centre-back Aaron Baxter raced on to a through ball after a mazy run and chipped over the opposition keeper to give us an invaluable 2-1 lead to defend. I made another one-on-one save along with a couple of other regulation stops as Kempston attacked us looking for an equaliser. Their closest effort came from 20 yards out, a rasping shot that I simply watched crash against the crossbar and bounce out. That particular effort was right above my head so I really should have made some attempt to save it... Why I simply stood and watched it, I don't know, but luckily it didn't go in and we held on to win 2-1.
Did I enjoy it? I'd say so. But I found myself getting a bit edgy in the 2nd half, nervous of making a mistake and possibly wanting it to end. Aswell as the nerves from last night, where I went back to my old habits of inventing scenarios that may or may not happen. I distinctly remember wondering how gutted and annoyed I'd be if I picked up a serious injury and missed the cricket season because of it. They are similar feelings that I felt towards the end of my 1st stretch as the goalkeeper of Mowsbury Athletic, and I'm not sure if I want to feel these feelings every Saturday evening. I get the impression that they won't have a keeper for the rest of the season, so they expect me to commit to the remaining few months. Next week, they play Renhold, the old arch-rivals, and I think everyone now expects me to step in. I'm not too sure I want to though. We shall see!
I enjoyed this morning though, once the initial nerves were out the way! As Father Mitten said, "Better than staying in bed!"
I don't think this refereeing comeback is going to happen. I sent an e-mail on Monday that got no reply, sent another on Wednesday to a different member of the refereeing department that got no reply, and then decided to ring them on Friday. They did pick up the phone, (which at least proves they are there!), but upon me telling them I wished to re-register, followed by my name, there was a long and hallowed silence. So much so, that I had to say that strange, "Hello?" in a tone that suggested you may have lost signal, or been hung up on. Neither had happened, but something tells me I am not forgotten in that place. Eventually, I was told that the manager would ring me back "ASAP, in case there is any trouble". What does that mean? "In case there is any trouble?" Like I'm going to ring them to express my interest in registering once more and then verbally threaten them and their families? What were they expecting?
It also goes without saying - They never rang me back. I'll wait until Tuesday to ring again, and then give up if they palm me off once more. I'd have received the message by then!
However, with my officiating comeback hanging in the balance, I did at least make another comeback to compensate this morning. I noticed a wee message on Twitter about how the mighty Mowsbury Athletic were lacking a keeper, so went downstairs to wake up Father Mitten and announce that I wanted to come out of retirement, albeit temporarily. Glad to get another keeper on board, he said yes of course, and this morning I donned the gloves in a triumphant 2-1 victory against Kempston Hammers. Times have changed since I left in the early Summer of 2011. Having gained promotion from Division 3 to Division 2, they got promoted once more in the 2011-12 season up to Division 1, carrying on the remarkable record of getting promoted in every season they have played in. They are also doing well this season, now sitting 2nd, one point off the leaders with a game in hand on the team behind them - so another promotion may well be on the cards.
The game itself was a good one. The standard had increased dramatically from the heady days of Divisions 4 and 5 that I remember when the side first started up. Both teams wanted to get the ball down and pass it around which meant good viewing. I had my first shot to save a few minutes in which was a pretty tame effort straight at me, (which was friendly of them!), but conceded not long after as their striker raced on to a through ball and slotted past me, off the post, and into the net. 1-0 down but there wasn't a lot I could do about it. After another chance for Kempston that I saved from point-blank range, we equalised about 10 minutes later, after a header from left-winger Shaun Cafferty, but almost immediately, their Number 9 broke through on goal again, only to be bought down by our centre-back, Dean Leydon, who saw a red card being pointed in his direction. I made a good save from the resulting free-kick, but we went in at half-time on level terms, but one man down.
In the second half, and the low sun in my eyes, we started well as makeshift centre-back Aaron Baxter raced on to a through ball after a mazy run and chipped over the opposition keeper to give us an invaluable 2-1 lead to defend. I made another one-on-one save along with a couple of other regulation stops as Kempston attacked us looking for an equaliser. Their closest effort came from 20 yards out, a rasping shot that I simply watched crash against the crossbar and bounce out. That particular effort was right above my head so I really should have made some attempt to save it... Why I simply stood and watched it, I don't know, but luckily it didn't go in and we held on to win 2-1.
Did I enjoy it? I'd say so. But I found myself getting a bit edgy in the 2nd half, nervous of making a mistake and possibly wanting it to end. Aswell as the nerves from last night, where I went back to my old habits of inventing scenarios that may or may not happen. I distinctly remember wondering how gutted and annoyed I'd be if I picked up a serious injury and missed the cricket season because of it. They are similar feelings that I felt towards the end of my 1st stretch as the goalkeeper of Mowsbury Athletic, and I'm not sure if I want to feel these feelings every Saturday evening. I get the impression that they won't have a keeper for the rest of the season, so they expect me to commit to the remaining few months. Next week, they play Renhold, the old arch-rivals, and I think everyone now expects me to step in. I'm not too sure I want to though. We shall see!
I enjoyed this morning though, once the initial nerves were out the way! As Father Mitten said, "Better than staying in bed!"
Tuesday 12 February 2013
The U-Turn For the Greater Good
On Sunday 8th April 2012, I said this:
"I've quit. Quit with immediate effect, because I cannot, and will not, sit here and accept being bullied by an elitist organisation with tendencies of extreme favouritism. Sounds drastic? Maybe, but this is the final straw in what has been a series of huge mistakes"
This was of course a quote about my refereeing days. The time when I felt I had been mistreated and took a stand against it. I was incredibly aggrieved, maybe rightly so, but I too made some mistakes during that stage. I maintain my opinion was valid, but the way I communicated them was not so. Using social networks to express opinion is a dangerous thing, especially when it comes to work. Ok, refereeing was not my "official" job, but I was still representing the FA. I should have found another way to express my annoyance, and using Twitter wasn't the way to do it. Going to the press afterwards however was a stupid move. I knew it at the time, and I know it now. If you read my blog post about it, I think it was obvious I had severe doubts. Although I don't do regrets, this was an exception to the rule. It was a mistake, and a mistake I thought had ended my refereeing career. It might well be a mistake that still has ended it. At the time, it didn't bother me so much as I was going to take a break anyway. But now, after 10 months out of the game, I realise I miss it so much. Someone asked me yesterday, "Why do you miss refereeing?" ... I don't know... The buzz of it all, the excitement of being involved in the game and making decisions and the pressure. It's a feeling I won't forget and it's a feeling I miss. So, after a long break and a few weeks of internal back and forth, I have decided. I want back in.
I know. The words, "I will never represent my county or the FA again" have been ringing around my head for weeks and weeks now, and I've been grappling with the thought of going against my convictions of that day in April. I honestly never thought I would walk out to officiate again, but here I am with the very real possibility of that being the case. This is of course, if I am allowed back in... It may be a while ago, but I'm fairly sure my actions have not been forgotten... Will they allow me back as if nothing happened? I'm not sure. On the other side of the coin though, I technically did nothing wrong. I didn't. I was naive in thinking I was doing the right thing by going to the national press about it, and thinking that would somehow make things better, but my opinion wasn't grotesque. It wasn't wrong. I just communicated it in the wrong manner.
I think I'll be a better referee for it aswell. I've matured slightly, gained more confidence that I didn't have a year ago, and I have found renewed enthusiasm in officiating. Already, I have received some questions about why I'm doing it. Why am I going against my convictions? It sounds bad... But I firmly believe some things are best left in the past. This is a good move for me, so why not? It will improve my fitness, get me back involved in the sport that is my first love and I'll be able to provide opinion on refereeing at all levels with the knowledge that I am actively involved.
I will change one thing though. I will not be involved in any county matters, (I wouldn't even if they allowed me to), and I will simply stick to refereeing and nothing else. Last time out, I got too involved on county matters and that ultimately led to my downfall. I believe a lot has changed there now, so hopefully, it is a lot more structured. I will also probably have to go a couple of seasons of simply officiating without reward, (for example, I'm not expecting any cup semi final or final appointments quickly!), but that's fine by me. I just want to be back involved. I lament how very few of my friends and family saw me officiate, and I'd love to showcase my talents for them. I believe I was a good referee, and hopefully I can get the chance to pick up from where I left off.
This hasn't been an easy decision. I am well aware that I am going against what I said last year, and it has troubled me slightly, but sometimes moving on is the best thing. There is no point languishing on pastures old. Sometimes, you've just got to move on.
"I've quit. Quit with immediate effect, because I cannot, and will not, sit here and accept being bullied by an elitist organisation with tendencies of extreme favouritism. Sounds drastic? Maybe, but this is the final straw in what has been a series of huge mistakes"
This was of course a quote about my refereeing days. The time when I felt I had been mistreated and took a stand against it. I was incredibly aggrieved, maybe rightly so, but I too made some mistakes during that stage. I maintain my opinion was valid, but the way I communicated them was not so. Using social networks to express opinion is a dangerous thing, especially when it comes to work. Ok, refereeing was not my "official" job, but I was still representing the FA. I should have found another way to express my annoyance, and using Twitter wasn't the way to do it. Going to the press afterwards however was a stupid move. I knew it at the time, and I know it now. If you read my blog post about it, I think it was obvious I had severe doubts. Although I don't do regrets, this was an exception to the rule. It was a mistake, and a mistake I thought had ended my refereeing career. It might well be a mistake that still has ended it. At the time, it didn't bother me so much as I was going to take a break anyway. But now, after 10 months out of the game, I realise I miss it so much. Someone asked me yesterday, "Why do you miss refereeing?" ... I don't know... The buzz of it all, the excitement of being involved in the game and making decisions and the pressure. It's a feeling I won't forget and it's a feeling I miss. So, after a long break and a few weeks of internal back and forth, I have decided. I want back in.
I know. The words, "I will never represent my county or the FA again" have been ringing around my head for weeks and weeks now, and I've been grappling with the thought of going against my convictions of that day in April. I honestly never thought I would walk out to officiate again, but here I am with the very real possibility of that being the case. This is of course, if I am allowed back in... It may be a while ago, but I'm fairly sure my actions have not been forgotten... Will they allow me back as if nothing happened? I'm not sure. On the other side of the coin though, I technically did nothing wrong. I didn't. I was naive in thinking I was doing the right thing by going to the national press about it, and thinking that would somehow make things better, but my opinion wasn't grotesque. It wasn't wrong. I just communicated it in the wrong manner.
I think I'll be a better referee for it aswell. I've matured slightly, gained more confidence that I didn't have a year ago, and I have found renewed enthusiasm in officiating. Already, I have received some questions about why I'm doing it. Why am I going against my convictions? It sounds bad... But I firmly believe some things are best left in the past. This is a good move for me, so why not? It will improve my fitness, get me back involved in the sport that is my first love and I'll be able to provide opinion on refereeing at all levels with the knowledge that I am actively involved.
I will change one thing though. I will not be involved in any county matters, (I wouldn't even if they allowed me to), and I will simply stick to refereeing and nothing else. Last time out, I got too involved on county matters and that ultimately led to my downfall. I believe a lot has changed there now, so hopefully, it is a lot more structured. I will also probably have to go a couple of seasons of simply officiating without reward, (for example, I'm not expecting any cup semi final or final appointments quickly!), but that's fine by me. I just want to be back involved. I lament how very few of my friends and family saw me officiate, and I'd love to showcase my talents for them. I believe I was a good referee, and hopefully I can get the chance to pick up from where I left off.
This hasn't been an easy decision. I am well aware that I am going against what I said last year, and it has troubled me slightly, but sometimes moving on is the best thing. There is no point languishing on pastures old. Sometimes, you've just got to move on.
Monday 4 February 2013
The Beauty of the "Opinion"
Everyone has an opinion. Some choose to be vocal with them, some will merely point out the occasional traits of their own thoughts and some will simply put up and shut up. This is fine, I have no qualms against any category, but most importantly, I don't think anyone else should either. The unique nature of human life will inevitably lead to a similarly unique nature in opinion, and this will create debate, altercation or, as I have found out this past week, controversy.
I want to clarify my position based upon what I wrote in my last post. The vast majority of people who read it have simply looked past the fact that I, of course, want equality and skipped straight to presuming that I am against it because I am against the notion of the dedicated month. This is absolute nonsense. What I was TRYING to say, was that we shouldn't have a special month, but should instead do these sorts of things 24/7. I am gay 24/7. Not for one month of the year. As I have mentioned before, I do have the tendency to get too emotional when discussing issues that are close to my heart, and I think this came across in abundance throughout that post and subsequent comments. My opinion remains however. I think the intimation of a devoted month to the issue is not the right way to tackle the problem. The stopping of such events come March is as much a sign of inequality as the beginning of events in February is a mark of equality. That is my opinion. My opinion is not wrong. Just as much as other people's opinions are not wrong either. Many people in this world need to learn that people hold different views and believe in different methods to achieve the same positive result. My opinion may be in a minority, but it does not make it incorrect. I am not causing damage by having this opinion. I am merely suggesting another way to achieve the desired end.
I have recently discovered that if you leave the smallest corner of your brain vacant, just for a moment, people will jump at the chance to fill the gap with their own thoughts. As soon as this happens, you are not yourself and you become influenced. As selfish as it sounds, I have recently learnt to respect other people's opinions but at the same time, not to let them bother or change me. I know that if I am happy, that is the number one box ticked. But that doesn't mean I don't care about anyone else.
As a good friend recently told me, "First and foremost, you have to learn to live with yourself". This applies to everything from sexuality, career, friendship and also opinions. As soon as you adopt the path of someone else, you are no longer alive. You are no longer yourself. Some people need to learn to take their own path, for their own good. Some people need to develop their own opinions, for as long as you are a good-hearted human, they will not be wrong. Some people, as I have very recently learnt myself, need to take responsibility. To do that, you need independence. You can't be independent if you do not have your own opinions on the world. That is my opinion.
I want to clarify my position based upon what I wrote in my last post. The vast majority of people who read it have simply looked past the fact that I, of course, want equality and skipped straight to presuming that I am against it because I am against the notion of the dedicated month. This is absolute nonsense. What I was TRYING to say, was that we shouldn't have a special month, but should instead do these sorts of things 24/7. I am gay 24/7. Not for one month of the year. As I have mentioned before, I do have the tendency to get too emotional when discussing issues that are close to my heart, and I think this came across in abundance throughout that post and subsequent comments. My opinion remains however. I think the intimation of a devoted month to the issue is not the right way to tackle the problem. The stopping of such events come March is as much a sign of inequality as the beginning of events in February is a mark of equality. That is my opinion. My opinion is not wrong. Just as much as other people's opinions are not wrong either. Many people in this world need to learn that people hold different views and believe in different methods to achieve the same positive result. My opinion may be in a minority, but it does not make it incorrect. I am not causing damage by having this opinion. I am merely suggesting another way to achieve the desired end.
I have recently discovered that if you leave the smallest corner of your brain vacant, just for a moment, people will jump at the chance to fill the gap with their own thoughts. As soon as this happens, you are not yourself and you become influenced. As selfish as it sounds, I have recently learnt to respect other people's opinions but at the same time, not to let them bother or change me. I know that if I am happy, that is the number one box ticked. But that doesn't mean I don't care about anyone else.
As a good friend recently told me, "First and foremost, you have to learn to live with yourself". This applies to everything from sexuality, career, friendship and also opinions. As soon as you adopt the path of someone else, you are no longer alive. You are no longer yourself. Some people need to learn to take their own path, for their own good. Some people need to develop their own opinions, for as long as you are a good-hearted human, they will not be wrong. Some people, as I have very recently learnt myself, need to take responsibility. To do that, you need independence. You can't be independent if you do not have your own opinions on the world. That is my opinion.
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