From 6pm to the AM, finally I can be a decent dad

There’s no obvious good bit to the piercing shrill of my alarm driving deep into my ear drums at 3am, five days a week.

This time of the day is known as ‘‘shit-o’clock’’.

Truth be known I’m lying there awake – waiting for the sound of what feels, at times, like a pending execution.

I know I have to get up – The AM Show will be on in three hours. The runaway freight train needs its drivers.

Three AM is an inhospitable time of day. It’s ‘‘shit-o-clock’’. I hit the deserted roads of a sleeping giant about to wake.

Every morning the same guy is smoking outside his Mt Albert internet-cafe, open 24 hours.

How he makes a buck at 3.30am in a sleeping city suburb is something I continue to ponder. There are always cars of hoodlums in the wee small hours, music pumping, windows down.

At 4am we don’t go high-fiving or fist pumping when we get into the office. Talking seems difficult enough.

For the first time as a dad I get to take my kids to after-school sports games and team practices.

It’s all a bit surreal – the bright lights are on but no one is home. We have a job to do.

Co-hosts Mark Richardson and Amanda Gillies slip into the building at similar times to me.

There’s a workman-like quiet hum to the place.

Mark sits next to me every day. I know when he’s arrived, because it’s the same everyday. ‘‘Gidday mate,’’ he says, without fail.

He’s an amazing bloke to work with, he’s really organised and knows his job.

I can see why he went on to become one of our best test opening batsmen. Rigor knows when the red light is on. Great guy.I know when Amanda is close, the words, ‘‘hello lovely,’’ are used without fail. We’re old friends. I totally trust her on and off the field. She’s a crack journo.

So we piece together this hungry television and radio beast. It’s actually more like flying an out-of-control 747 really, enjoy the wild ride, just don’t crash and burn.

For me it’s been a massive change. Not least the hours. I love the show and the format.

But for 20 years I have worked at the other end of the day with the 6pm news, RadioLIVE Drive and Story, bless its departed soul. And there’s one massive bonus to the 3am start.

Finally, for the first time as a dad I get to take my kids to afterschool sports games and team practices. I have always missed out because of the afternoon radio or the news gig. I always felt bad.

So with my afternoons largely free, I went to all but one of my son’s rugby league practices this year.

Buster Garner loves playing for the Bay-Roskill Vikings under-7s. The boys call themselves the ‘brothers.’

They only lost two games.

Coach James Pule is a superb teacher and mentor for these young boys. He’s coaching these lads to listen and also grow into good young men.

Sport is a great way to teach these disciplines.

I’m indebted to James this year – his impact on the boys is really noticeable.

I’m proud of the team, hopefully they’ll stick together and everyone really stepped up this year. They won the junior club team of the year. And young Buster got the MVP.

He’s competitive and he’s learning that winning matters. That’s my fault! He’s got ticker and plenty of heart.

I don’t buy this PC stuff, where it’s enough to just turn up. That’s not me. I’m sure some will disagree with my approach.

I was also able to get to some of my two daughters’s hockey practices and games. I even drove the school mini-van with the 1st XI on board.

I had to drive and not talk apparently. Lots of instructions. Lots and lots of them.

I was able to get to Tauranga recently to watch my daughter in an afternoon tournament.

I know this might not seem that remarkable to many of you but it’s been life changing for me.

At age 43 I’m doing all this for the first time.

When you’ve had your afternoons and evenings bossed by the inflexible demands of radio and news shows for 20 years, I feel like I’ve been let out of jail.

I’m playing backyard cricket, helping with the league team and working from home in the afternoons.

I now feel like I can be a proper and attentive dad, not a busy absent one who no one believes is actually real.

It’s taken me 16 years to get to this point.

There’s a life out there. It’s rewarding. I’m grateful and I treasure the time. And then it’s suddenly 3am again.

Shit o’clock doesn’t deserve to go by any other name. But there is light at the end of the afternoon.