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Serious sport .... is bound up with hatred, jealousy, boastfulness, disregard for all rules and sadistic pleasure in witnessing violence.



An Olympic (kind of) themed post today. I took this photograph just a couple of hours ago. Behind the play group building that Henry and I frequent, there sits a few of the illustrious Geilston Bay Tennis Club's outer courts. We can often see the future Rod Lavers, John Newcombes and Richard Frombergs honing their skills pop pop popping away back and forth in the blazing Tasmanian sun.

Given the magnificent physical specimens that the boys are, Henry, Ezra, Jennifer and I have discussed whether or not we should invest in racquets and balls as an investment to pumping out our very own version of the Williams sisters. The lads' maternal grandfather is a keen grass court ace, who (if fortunes went another way), could have been a contender to Laver's crown. Unfortunately, fate would see him choose mechanics over the world tour and Wimbledon would have to wait. Tennis is a hard slog, and although the rewards are great, the attrition rate is greater.

Broadly, I am not so sure as to where to invest in the promising duo. My heart says that they would complement each other well in a strong Essendon Football Cluboutfit (Henry at CHB and Ezra CHF), but earning capacities are low, career span brief and the draft putting them at risk of going to Collingwood.

The example of Tiger Woods shows the benefit of putting clubs in the hands of infants, but golf is a costly sport, and well, the spectator is in for a long, grueling and tedious day on the links. Earning potentials are high, but is it worth having to watch golf for years on end? Is anything worth that?

You can earn big bucks in the world of soccer, but both of them are far too robust and masculine for the world of synchronised diving and head and/or knee clutching. It would break my heart to see such a natural enthusiasm and aggression wasted on the [ahem] 'world game'.

I personally like the idea of an Australian version of the Klitschko brothers. Combining PhDs and punching power, Henry and Ezra are natural heavyweights, and I could see them dominating the sweet science in a way not seen since a young Mike Tyson, that said, their mother is not keen and there are too many sharks circling that pond.

All of which leaves me in a quandary. Unfortunately I feel that I will have to leave it up to the boys themselves. But by then we will be past the point of intense hothousing. Oh well, there is always Ultimate Fighting...

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Maria Verivaki said…
guide them at the same time as letting them choose
9 August 2008 at 21:18
USelaine said…
It is a wise father that remembers where his bread gets buttered. Given your criteria, hockey is not without its attractions.
10 August 2008 at 19:28
Kris McCracken said…
Henry would be in the sin-bin too much with hockey!
14 August 2008 at 13:49
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