My parents weren't helicopter parents. They didn't even see me off as I walked down our long driveway waiting to catch the bus to netball (in my primary school days) and hockey (high school) on those winter mornings. The bus driver was Doug Potts, known as Sluggo, and it was a long slow drive from Wingham to Taree and home again, though you couldn't blame the road conditions.
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Those winter Saturdays were long. We left at the crack of dawn and got home late in the afternoon, just in time for tea usually. After playing one game.
Netball was played near the Railway Tennis Courts, if I remember correctly. Saxby's cordial and Big Charlie bubble gum from Melville's shop was my treat. I also played netball for school sport, on rough fields near the level railway crossing on Wingham Road.
Hockey was at the rec ground, played on grass fields that weren't always even, adding to the challenge. Before and after we played, we sat on the sidelines watching other games. The hockey uniform was a pale blue sports tunic - a short sports tunic as was the fashion. It didn't offer much in the way of protection from the winter chills and wet ground but I didn't seem to mind at the time. Sometimes we would slip through missing palings around the greyhound track to watch the racing. (Note: The photo is taken from 1976 and I'm not in it - I don't think any 'action shots' of me exist.)
Hockey training involved a few laps around Wingham's Central Park as a warm up. It did the trick, I was usually gasping by lap two. And usually I was barefoot. The coach watched on, smoking - it was the '70s and 'Marlborough Country' (rumour had it that one of the adverts was shot at Cooplacurripa Station).
Competition footwear was sandshoes for netball - white, rubber toed, and they had to be 'painted' white again with a sponge brush every few weeks. I graduated to sprigged shoes for hockey, useful for grip when I was trying to beat the ball down the sideline, something I regularly failed at.
Winter sport is about to start - though maybe not this weekend with the rain that has fallen in the last couple of days. While I was not a helicopter parent, I've spent many hours on the sidelines as my kids played. And I recognise the commitment of families that ensures the future of junior sport, from coaching and referring/umpiring right through to volunteering at the canteen and washing the footy jumpers.
Know that your efforts are appreciated and the friendships made made it all the more enjoyable.
Have a great weekend,
Toni Bell
ACM editor, Manning River Times