Sporting Roots

Anybody who vaguely knows me, knows that I am particularly passionate about sport. Since I was knee-high to a grasshopper, I have been a staunch Everton fan and most folks who cross my path are aware of this. Whether you went to school with me and no doubt abused me frequently, somebody I worked with and no doubt abused me, or you’re a family member or friend and have no doubt abused me, you’ll know who my team is and you will know how passionate I am about them despite all the abuse and poor performances. Randomly, two people recently called me a glory supporter – not many Evertonians can be accused of that, but it is true. I started supporting them in the mid-eighties when they were at the peak of European football. It’s been downhill ever since.

Among my first memories was Diego Maradona in 1986 and I was instantly fixated with him and the game. The truth is that it was always inevitable that I would work in sport, study sport, love watching sport, read about sport, live sport. From as early as I can remember, sport was on our television. It could have been tennis, it could have been NFL, you name it, we watched it. It was the same 25 years ago, and it is just as prevalent now if you show up at my parents’ house. Dad worked evenings and weekends, so we spent a lot of time growing up under the auspices of my mum – thankfully for Junior Bobby, Kath loved watching sports and it all grew from there.

As an eight-year-old, I can vividly recall getting a book for my birthday on the rules of NFL, which I recited and learned as I watched the game. Watching was not always possible – bed times as a child can be terribly restrictive especially when you’ve never been a great sleeper and I would listen to the radio coverage of the NFL quietly in my room – half listening to the radio and half listening for the creeks of the staircase. Of course, that was assuming my sister didn’t grass me up.

Dad has always enjoyed watching sports but for a slightly different reason. If he has a bet on a snail race and it is televised, he’ll be flicking the channels trying to find coverage. That is no doubt why I always had an attraction to data and betting, even if I fell into my role with Smartodds.

When HJ lived in Calgary and I spent a lot of time over there, I heard about this new device which allowed you to watch television over the internet if you had it connected to a cable/sky box and the internet. The Slingbox was to become a lifesaver on my travels. I picked one up in Calgary, took it back to the UK and connected it to mum and dad’s television. I had hit the jackpot. The issue with the Canadian box in the UK was that one feature did not work – the remote control – so for a good few years, if I wanted to watch something, I would call or text my folks asking them to change channel. They bought me a UK one last year and I can now change it myself – I can only apologise to them and my niece and nephew who are frequently disturbed by Scooby Doo being interrupted by Uncle Rob who wants to watch a random cricket game even though I am a ninety minute flight away. No wonder kids believe in magic.

I love my parents for many reasons and in many ways, but their love of sport and how it rubbed off on to me, along with a number of other characteristics goes a long way to explaining me. A good friend of ours often reminds me of how he watched the Stanley Cup Final with my mum from a hotel in Cologne as I drifted asleep for a period and Mum, watching at home, and him watching on my laptop via the slingbox, stayed the course at 4am. How many parents stay up til 4am to watch a Hockey match? HJ is in Innsbruck this week and I have stayed up til 3.30-4am every night watching Hockey or NFL. So if you wonder why I may be a little abnormal in doing so, look no further than my Mum.

It is funny how those kind of Stanley Cup moments stay with you and always will. In the last few years, I’ve attended a considerable number of sporting events, and I have tried wherever possible to take my parents to them. Christmas and Birthday presents are never easy these days – it’s fair to say that the culture nowadays is that we buy something if we need it. Given that they are sport fans, I like to give them ‘moments’ and ‘memories’ as gifts. Maybe it is an excuse for me to go also, I won’t lie! But more than anything, it’s my way of thanking them for instilling my passion for sport. I’m banking on neither of them reading this blog, but I’m looking forward to the next one I have lined up if I can somehow pull it off.