Advertiser View
AFTER SCOTLAND’S SIX NATIONS DEFEAT IN ROME, CRAIG BORLAND EXPLAINS WHY GRASSROOTS SPORT IS WHERE HIS ENTHUSIASM LIES
THE peace was breached in our house on Saturday afternoon.
It started at about twenty-five past two, shortly after Kyle Steyn scored Scotland’s second try against Italy in Rome. In my defence, m’lud, I was provoked – specifically by the TV commentator who suggested that Scotland were halfway towards the bonus point they needed to keep their hopes of winning the Six Nations Championship alive. At which point I may have uttered a noisy, and naughty, word or two along the lines of the Scots having to make sure the game was won first before worrying about bonus points.
Well, we got the bonus point. Two, in fact. But my noisy shouts continued as it became clear Scotland weren’t going to win the game and secure the full whack of points that I suspect the TV commentator meant, with Italy securing a richly-deserved victory and confirming that despite all the high hopes, and the occasional flashes of brilliance they’ve shown, Scotland have in reality been Not Very Good at this year’s tournament.
I guess my frustration was shared in the clubhouse at Ardencaple, where I’m sure a fair few local rugby players were watching the action from Rome after Lomond and Helensburgh’s second XV played their friendly against Greenock Wanderers. But as much as anything else I was annoyed at myself for getting worked up about a big game in a way that generally doesn’t happen as much as it used to.
Because these days I get far more of my sporting kicks out of the grassroots game than I once did. And it doesn’t just apply to rugby. A couple of Saturdays back I caught up with Rhu Amateurs’ Colts team at their league match against Cambuslang in Glasgow, and although the result, like the one in Rome on Saturday, wasn’t what I’d been hoping for, I genuinely would rather have been nowhere else than watching 22 amateur footballers in action, playing not for money but for the love of the game.
At the top level, sport these days, as far as I’m concerned, is just another branch of the entertainment industry. The opportunity to watch a football or rugby match live on the telly is not one I’d thank you for. Even the idea of watching a game in the Scottish Premiership, or the English Premier League, in person leaves me cold. I’d far rather see my sport in the raw, with no huge sums of cash riding on the result, no VAR, and no endless headlines that are only tangentially linked to the 80 or 90 minutes on the park.
Which means I’m grateful that sport in Helensburgh is largely all about the grassroots. Don’t get me wrong; it’s fantastic to see local big names, like Gordon Reid or Hannah Rankin, doing well. But personally I get much more out of following the fortunes, through their regular contributions to the Advertiser, and watching them in person when I can, of the likes of Rhu Amateurs, Helensburgh Rugby Club, or the local youth teams, stripped of all the paraphernalia that too often hangs about top level team sport like a bad smell.
At the grassroots, teams like ours depend not just on players playing for the love of it, but on managers, coaches, committee members and others giving up an awful lot of time, effort and money to keep their teams alive and thriving, and that, to me, is much more worthy of support than lining the pockets of sometimes-dubious owners – of clubs or TV companies.
From a supporting point of view it’s easy to follow the big teams, too. Maybe not financially, either in terms of admission prices or the ridiculous cost of subscribing to one or all of the TV sports channels. But support is easy when the prospect of success is more immediate. Cash aside, it takes a bit more effort to get behind a team if those prospects are distant. It’s probably the Calvinist buried deep within me, but I’m not afraid to admit that I find it much more fun to follow the fortunes of a wee team, one of a small and select band of supporters rather than a huge army that stretches around the globe.
That’s not to criticise those who do follow a big team. That’s their choice, and I’m fine with that. I know I’m in a minority. But for me the grassroots are where it’s at: the rewards may not seem so big on the face of it, but it makes those moments of success, rare though they may be, all the more worthy of celebrating.