Yesterday, I was coaching the first XI hockey boys in their first match of the season. Problem was, the school we were playing was at Arberlour, about four hours north of Crieff. So a huge bus journey for one match.

The scenery on the way there was pretty amazing. A lot of snowy mountains and beautiful green hills.

 When we stepped off the bus, I wanted to get back on. It was freezing. Not only is it a further 4 hours closer to the north pole, but it is also close to the ocean – so yes, it was definitely freezing. The boys asked me if they could play in their tracksuit pants – and they’re pretty tough when it comes to the cold weather.

 Along with coaching, I also had to umpire. I was pretty rugged up on the pitch, but at the end of the game when the players shook my hand, i realised that i’d lost feeling in it. I’m the tall one in the pic below.

 The boys won pretty easily, 6 – 2. The centre-half and captain is a red-headed sporting genious. Any sport he touches turns to gold. He actually reminds me of myself as a young lad… ha ha. Not really.

 The weird thing is every time we play a match away, we have lunch at the ‘host school’. And i don’t mean vegemite sandwiches, i’m talking lasagne, pasta, beef stew etc. And when we have a home match, we supply lunch for our ‘guests’. It’s a totaly foreign concept in sport for me. 

Then, a four hour bus trip home before I left Ardvreck to go to the burns night (the one i bought all that tartan for)…