As I get older in life and become more philosophical, I have discovered the one thing that any of us can talk about to at least start a conversation. Sport. We have our favourite teams in Ball sports, or we just don’t follow one. Either way, if asked a question about sport, we can develop a conversation from it. Some of those among us are possibly more passionate than others. My good lady wife is such an example. We can be having dinner, shopping or just watching the news, and the very mention of the Bulldogs (AFL) or Storm (NRL) will stop the conversation dead in its tracks. Currently it is the Tour de France. Hundreds of very fit men riding through the incredible scenery that is France in Lycra, trying to be the first to Paris. I must admit, I watch about 10 minutes of it for the three months that it seems to go on for. I am astounded at the speed, skill and endurance but it doesn’t do much for me.
My game used to be Hockey, but I just seemed to walk away from it and concentrate on my Golf. I became reasonably good at golf, but miss Hockey. My good friend Alan just came back from Barcelona as an Umpire in the World Seniors Championships. I congratulated him on his selection with a large amount of jealousy, but a great sense of pride that I knew him and that we used to work together years ago. We also used to watch The Blues Brothers, drink a carton of beer and eat 2 family pizzas every saturday night. Two cigarettes and a stubby of VB at half time used to be the norm during the hockey season to boot.
It’s funny really the ex-Navy community. Those that you served with remain acquaintances for life. Some become firm friends, others you catch up with on ANZAC Day, others you don’t see for years, but the reunion remains the same. You catch up from where you left off. You unfortunately slip into Navy Slang and the stories get better each year. The wives and partners roll their eyes, laugh with embarrassment and watch to make sure you don’t make too much of a goose of yourself. But strangely enough, they are confident in the fact that you have found your comfort zone for a while. Most of us long-termers do struggle with a lot of outside life. We survive, get frustrated and angry and wish everyone thought the same as we do. Contact counselling should sometimes be encouraged!!
Back to Sport. This is a tough time of year for lovers of sport and sleep. You either have one or the other. We suddenly become experts in our chosen fields, we understand the terms Peleton, Touchdown, Albatross, Deuce etc. Never used again in everyday language, but for about 12 weeks in the depths of Winter. It gives us a chance to develop new games to consolidate our viewing pleasure, or to plan our next European holiday. One good game I heard of was to complement the Tour de France. Find out what region of France they are driving through, and drink wine from that region whilst watching. For me that would make it bearable.
Sport used to be the highlight of my early deployments overseas, and at times back in Australia. I have been fortunate enough to play Golf on some of the best courses Asia has to offer in Thailand, Philippines, Singapore, Japan etc. Played Hocked from the lush Artificial Turf in Malaysia and Singapore to the Dusty bowls that are used in India and Indonesia.
The upside is the mateship that comes from playing or being involved in Sport. My enjoyment of turning up to a golf course anywhere on Gods Great Earth is matched by the fact that in most situations, you have to spend 4 hours with people you may have never met or in a field that you have no knowledge. I spend my Saturdays with a GP, a Dairy Farmer and a Mortgage Broker. An eclectic group.
We have to use this kind of situation to help us assimilate and fit in to a Civilian life and sport provides us a platform to learn what makes the long haired dope smoking hippies tick. But we must never lose where we came from. We must never lose what makes us the person we are and that no-one can take away from us the experience and knowledge that we gained during our service. Sometimes its tough, no one understands and we just retire to our quiet spot. When it gets like that, walk around the house, silent and look at the family that have stood beside you. They understand, we may not accept what they are trying to tell us. Accept their comments, translate it into military speak, accept and then give them all a big hug. Go and get everyone a McFlurry, without asking and get on with life.
We are supported. Go Chooks, til later.
Youngy's Yak 