Forwards and occasionally sidewards – everyday musings of life

I must admit to a slight panic when I arrived to deliver my first Sports Psychology seminar this morning. Looking out at the audience, the players were significantly younger than I’d anticipated—ranging from ten to seventeen years old. A couple of older players eventually arrived to balance the room, but I spent the first few minutes quietly dreading that I’d pitched the material far too high.

I needn’t have worried; they were a fantastic audience. I scanned the room for those reassuring nods and smiles that tell you your carefully crafted words and eye-pleasing slides are landing, and for the most part, I hit the mark.

Of course, no matter how many times you rehearse a deck for flow and consistency, there is always that one slide where, in the cold light of the live presentation, you think to yourself: “What on earth was I thinking when I put this in?”.

Despite that lone rogue slide, the feedback was hugely positive, prompting a flurry of sharp questions afterward. It felt good to realise I hadn’t forgotten everything about a subject so close to my heart, and I left confident that I’d planted a few useful seeds to help them think about their mental game differently.

By the time I’d completed an early gym session and two back-to-back seminars, I was utterly worn out. I retreated once again to the deck to finish my book and watch the local neighbourhood drama unfold.

Our resident bird bath visitor dropped in for an afternoon drink—a remarkably unbothered crow who has officially earned the name Russell (Crowe, naturally). As you can see in the photo, the dogs stood frozen on the deck, ears fully deployed, locked in an intense standoff with our feathered gladiator. Russell didn’t bat an eye, calmly drinking his fill before taking off and leaving two thoroughly baffled security guards in his wake.