Postcards from Camp #2

📍The Spare Room

August, 2026

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

Just over a week ago, I drafted the first ‘Postcard’ in the early hours as I made my way into London to catch the Eurostar.

Tomorrow, I’ll be making my way into London to catch the Eurostar once more. This time, we’ll be taking it a bit further to Amsterdam, for the World Cup.

For now, I’m taking a break from the inevitably long-winded pack that comes before a 3-week trip.

We are incredibly lucky to call what we do a profession. As with all professions, it comes with its own contextual pressures, and this can often be rendered in the form of the next challenge.

At the end of the first edition of ‘Postcards’, I referenced a line from a Norman Sann song that I struggle to skip. The words have become more prominent in previous weeks and they did so through our home stand of the Pro League in June.

Any good performance is swiftly replaced with the ‘do-it-again’ mentality that all elite performers cherish. Any successful team wants to transition from competitive to winning to dominant. There’s no let-up. And nor should there be.

By default, you can get swept up in the tidal wave that accompanies chasing such an intangible and negate the ability to recognise the moments to appreciate where you are if you’re not careful.

The pursuit of something great isn’t wrong. Ambition is why you’re here. But ambition can become so all-consuming and blinding to what’s around you that you stop seeing that which a former version of yourself longed for and even dreamed of witnessing first-hand.

I can’t honestly say that just the kid in me dreamed of being able to play on a stage like this because the adult in me did as well. I turned 29 dreaming of the opportunity to possibly get 1 cap.

It’s exactly 5 years ago today (9th August) that I received a message from the GOAT of British hockey; Barry Middleton.

After years of walking a path filled with longing that ultimately had seemed to end in an acceptance of coming up short, the message read thusly;

“What’s your thoughts on trying for senior programme? Is it something you’re still wanting to do. This autumn is when the assessments are. Players will be nominated through EDP, home nations and also clubs can put players forward.

We will definitely nominate you, if you’re wanting to go for it.”

A door had creaked open to reveal the tiniest ray of light. In truth, I thought it was a tick-box exercise. A chance to finally be seen to formally conclude with a justification for why I hadn’t been looked at in the 8 years since I left the U21’s.

I had a good job and a career I was proud of. Did I really want to put it all on hold for something that I genuinely believed would most likely come to nothing?

It took me one literal minute to reply.

“I’d give anything to get capped mate. If there’s half a shout then I’m there.”

Fast forward 5 years to the day and here I am packing my 2022 Commonwealth Games bag to head to my second World Cup.

Thanks, Baz.

Once you’re inside the environment that moulds this team, it can quickly become normal.

And normal is dangerous.

Not because of the complacency that can become so synonymous with comfort, but because familiarity can make extraordinary experiences feel routine.

The World Cup deserves every possible degree of ambition we have. But it also deserves our attention and presence. One day (for some, sooner rather than later), these moments won’t be routines anymore. They’ll be memories.

And I don’t want my entire reflection of a tournament to be dictated by a result.

There’s been a realisation of the finite amount of time at the top of the game, especially when you’re invite to the party came so late.

Being able to enjoy and be present in each and every moment carries as much value as could possibly be assigned to it. On top of that, enjoying what I do and being present is when I play my best game. Who’d have thought?

There’s a well-quoted line from ‘The Office’ - the American version - which resonates with what I feel like I’ve found a way to appreciate of late.

“I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days, before you’ve actually left them.”

I’m aware I’m living in them. So I might as well enjoy them.