ABSENCE MAKES THE HEART GROW FONDER
THESE CERTAINLY are strange times we’re living in, strange times indeed as becoming somewhat of a recluse has become the societal norm.
Speaking to my mother from a safe distance on a day usually reserved for celebration and appreciation was about as peculiar as it gets, but if it helps to keep unnecessary suffering from my own, and other’s, doorsteps it’s a sacrifice well worth making.
Maybe I need to avail of what I hope is a once in a lifetime chance to take stock and find some sublime state of zen, where I can re-evaluate what’s important when I’m not running around manically like a blue-arsed fly with a high voltage electric prodder pressed to its navy buttocks.
Getting kids to and from activities is a full-time job on top of a full-time job; it’s a more family-friendly, smut-free and slightly less chronologically sound version of 7 Days by Craig David.
Off to hockey on Monday, take them to music lessons and Gaelic games on Tuesday, then drama and soccer on Wednesday, swimming on Thursday, soccer matches on Saturday, and G.A.A. blitzes on Sunday. And we chilled on Friday.
I’m pretty sure most weary parents have woke up barely past the crack of dawn on a weekend morning wishing they didn’t have to pack the children in the car and head to some sporting fixture after yet another hectic week.
However, most are probably now yearning to be back shivering on the sideline, chatting to some like-minded soul with a cup of coffee to warm up the palms as little Johnny or Julia give it their all on the pitch.
Watching the kids hone their skills in one of their sporting endeavours is a pleasure that I certainly miss, while absence has also made the heart grow fonder for seeing any sort of sporting action in the flesh.
Stir crazy players must be absolutely itching to get back on the pitch, but everybody will just have to grin and bear it and maybe we can use this as an opportunity to rediscover the reasons we fell in love with sport in the first place.
In the course of my work, I’m going to be spending a lot more hours chatting to people on the phone, rather than in person, but all human interaction is good for our mental well-being, particularly at a time like this.
There’s so many people out there, from sporting backgrounds or otherwise, that have interesting yarns to tell, and now is as good a time as any to delve into those untold stories.
Even when there’s no actual live sport to get our teeth into, it still remains one of the most important things in many people’s lives.
Players and fans alike dream of the day that they can return to the white heat of battle, while conversations about heroes of the past are taking place in living rooms and over phones the length and breadth of the country.
The sports pages in both national and regional titles might be scarce with match reports and breaking news, but it could be seen as a golden opportunity to delve a little deeper and tell tales that there normally wouldn’t be the time to tell or the space to do them justice.
We all have wonderful memories that have been weaved in the world of sport, a favourite star, a sublime goal or a precious moment that will forever be etched in our minds.
Given that all sporting action, bar behind closed doors horse and greyhound racing, is left waiting patiently in the dressing-room indefinitely, it means a slight change of role for yours truly for the foreseeable future.
Instead of standing pitch-side with a reporter’s notebook in hand, I’ll be on my mobile chatting to folk from all sorts of sports, some that I’ve crossed paths with in the past and others that I’ve never had the pleasure of speaking to before.
It’s fascinating listening to other people’s stories, and to conduct a half-decent interview that is the most important thing: being able to listen. It’s a valuable life lesson: open your ears and keep your mouth shut more often and you won’t go far wrong.
Considering my two kids are at home with me every day now while I’m trying to get a bit of work done, maybe it’s a pearl of wisdom I can somehow get across to them, although I won’t hold my breath on that one.
Speaking of ears, in a few weeks we’ll be all badly in need of haircuts in this household, but I think I’ll go full Grizzly Adams before letting anyone in the clan at my locks with a scissors, for fear of losing my personal listening devices.
None of us know how long my hair will be by the time this crisis is over, but one thing’s for sure, when sports do return I’ll be as excited and eager for action as a 19-year-old Craig David on a second or third date.