Postcards From Camp #1

📍 London St Pancras Station

July, 2026

5.54am.

I’ve got 7 minutes until my train to St Pancras.

From there, we’re catching the Eurostar to Belgium to face the number 1 side in the world for a couple of practice games before next month’s World Cup.

It’s weirdly quiet and anyone here is more intent on minding their own business than engaging with the environment around them.

Train stations have such a strange relationship with time.

Everyone is waiting for something, but nobody seems to wait in the same way. Every wait carries a differing level of importance, all of it subjective and all of it, utilised in a different way.

For me, the early hours has me waiting for a train but with my journey having begun somewhere else entirely.

My mind has raced ahead to the coming days. It isn’t a conscious decision. It’s a direct byproduct of anticipation. This will be our first sighting of the new national stadium in Wavre that will play host to the World Cup Final in just over a months’ time.

I’ve always been big on imagery, it plays a huge part in not just my pre-game routine but in the way I approach the game in general. In truth, I probably think about it too much and it means I can struggle to stay present in times like this.

If a trip like this ahead of the month that’s to come doesn’t create a sense of anticipation, then there isn’t much in this sport that will do it for you.

In my mind, I’ve already seen the turf for the first time, played the two games, and felt stick on ball at an international level. In reality, I’m now sat in the Lounge in London (perks of the job) and haven’t even set foot on platform 6 yet.

I’ve spoken about the escapism that accompanies my writing. There’s definitely a carry over that I’m acutely aware of into day-to-day life and that undoubtedly transfers over to my hockey.

You can’t help but to extrapolate beyond the confines of the immediate imagery when you’re alone like this. You think about the rest of your squad. The bigger picture. Your opposition. What are the other countries doing in their prep right now? Are we ahead of the curve?

Your mind can race away from you in times like this if you’re not careful.

I know imagery isn’t everyone’s ideal form of preparation but, for me, it’s played an integral part in visualising scenarios that, inevitably, I find myself in on the field. People rehearse futures all the time in every imaginable context. Sometimes, they serve as motivation, sometimes they distract us from the only part that we can actually influence.

Imagery and visualisation is celebrated within sport. There’s a value that accompanies seeing success before it arrives and rehearsing a performance accordingly.

In spite of this, I’ve learned that the imagined version is always cleaner that the real one.

The real version includes a hotel with no air conditioning, poor sleep and a questionable lunch on game-day 1.

All of these factors place a toll on the body that the mind struggles to reproduce from the confines of St Pancras.

Imagination should inspire the journey, not replace it.

The early start has proved beneficial in the acquisition of an upgrade and a comprehensive scenario-laden visualisation of the days to come. I can be guilty of over analysing and whilst it’s a trait that is slowly diminishing with experience (in a good way), it still has its advantages when I’m looking for a 1% here or there.

For now though, the incoming World Cup exists only in imagination. The next step isn’t out onto the pitch in Amsterdam. It isn’t even out onto the pitch in Wavre.

The only step that can be controlled, takes me onto platform 6.

One final thought

I’ll share a lyric from the song that’s been resonating with me more and more lately.

Analyze by Norman Sann

“My desire for going platinum eradicated the silver lining.”

There’s a difference between imagining where you’re going and forgetting where you are.

Food for thought ahead of Postcard #2

From a train platform,

Nick