Having a blast at hockey and so much more
By Phoebe Nixon, Year 12, Redlynch State College
ON THE island I was mostly barefooted, even at school, and I ran and jumped and cycled, swam and dived.
I went over hills, cut through the bush past the dam and followed the road to where it met the beach and the sand turned into malu blue water and became the reef.
My “team” was my brother and sister, and all our mates, the kids from our street and round the corner plus our dogs. I was the youngest so quickly learned to keep up.
We organised ourselves and with no coaches or managers we also made up the rules.
There was no safety equipment which explains why my modelling career was doomed by the time I finished preschool due to multiple grazes and scars.
Drinks breaks depended on whose yard you were passing through.
My mother tells a story about me bumping a reef shark over the nose with my flipper when I was five.
I was the first line of defence while my sister kept position in the back.
My father would coach me about where to look for the kaiar (cray) hidden away under jutting out bommies.
I would attach myself to his back, his own private turtle shell. Big breath and down we’d dive. All day in and out only having a breather on the bench when a kodal (crocodile) came to visit.
I was quite interested to learn about this great Australian tradition called Saturday sport when I moved to the city. So much to plan and organise.
My first rep trip was a total disaster when I was yelled at for forgetting a water bottle lovingly decorated by the coach in special stickers.
Shoes were needed and if left behind you couldn’t join in.
The wrong colour or mismatched socks was considered a crime.
Loud blaring sirens determined when balls would be allowed to be thrown in and a ref demanded games kept stopping for the tiniest reasons that seemed slightly stupid to me. But how I loved it. I was blessed to attend a fantastic state school in Cairns where I had a new and interesting sport thrown at me every few weeks.
Adventures could still happen, although most had to be accessed via a bus trip and dreaded permission forms which I still lose.
Volleyball, track and field carnivals, futsal, softball, AFL, cross country, touch footy, netball, swimming, white water rafting on the Tully River, surf lifesaving, mountain biking on the Tablelands, hiking through Hinchinbrook, diving on the Great Barrier Reef.
My sporting achievements through club and school were wide and varied, definitely the envy of any Aussie teenager and certainly could be flashed over any adventure tourism brochure. Instagram worthy #sportinglifeinFNQ Hockey however became my great love and also my teacher.
A love that would give me the highest of highs as I became a Queenslander with my very own numbered maroon shirt with my name on it, but also major injury setbacks that will live with me forever.
Individual performance only counts as a contribution to the team output.
Conscious decisions were made to partner up with the teeth destroyer in warm ups so the team knew we could all move on.
I smiled at her through my wired together jaw and kept hitting that ball towards that instrument of destruction that a week earlier had shattered me literally to the core of my bones.
No slackers allowed. Move on. Never stop training.
In 2018 I am the captain of the Raging Red Rapids, who are currently two for two with wins in both swimming and cross country. These wins were planned. Personal relationships were developed and motivation was provided – including bribery!
I was on the front line again competing and winning age champion honours to show I expected everyone to win.
Expectation to improve, and expectation to try go together. Those participation points prove we deserve the shield.
In the end, it’s not about the sport. It’s about making us all better people and the world a better place.