Lacrosse Beginning

Welcome to my first visit to to Blog-o-sphere.

Why now?

Why ever?

I've been a fan of Lacrosse for 30 years since having my first Lacrosse lesson during games as a first year at William Hulme's Grammar School, Manchester, England. I had played Rugby for the U12s XV in my first term at school and had been informed that everyone had to play Lacrosse during 2nd term after Christmas and that I needed to visit Tyldesley & Holdbrook the recommended school outfitter to purchase a lacrosse stick, whatever the hell that was.

It was with much intepidation that I entered my first lesson, and bitterly resented the fact that I had gone to a Non-Football playing school and had to try to play these new sports rather than beloved footy which I played during every waking hour prior to entering secondary school.

Would I be able to learn this new game, would I enjoy it, was there even anyone else that played this silly little game? As until that point I'd never heard of it!

After the initial briefing of what the parts of the stick were called and what the Rule of Lacrosse were I made my first catch, first pass & shortly thereafter my first shot on goal. Because I was reasonably quick and athletic as a nipper I avoided the ignominy of having to play in Goals plus the Goalie kit was more expensive and you need more specialist equipment to play in nets. All I needed to play in midfield was a Stick and a willingness to run up and down like a mad thing between the goals and a mindset to hit someone back if they hit you.

This was 1978, not the best era to learn the "Best Kept Secret in Sport", there were no helmets, pads, gloves or even titanium poles. The game was played 12-a-side with a solid piece of Hickory curved at one end with a net strung into this curved hook shape, the sidewall was made of Cat-gut we were unreliably informed and "The Pocket" was strung together with nylon chord inter-weaved around four leather thongs which went along the length of the pocket.

You had to stop on the whistle and if you fouled someone or were fouled against you had to stand 5 yards behind the victim (or culprit) and on the whistle you got the chance to do it all over again.

Little did I know then that this game would have a dramatic impact on my life and those people and places I chose to spend my life with. In the negative you could describe the sport as addictive as it rewards practice while never being able to reach a level of Mastery that you could honestly say there was nothing else to learn. That is probably one of the games most intrinsic attractions, there are so many technical skills to master and nuances of gamesplay to use and counter that you can never say you know everything.

If is the equivalent of that sad marketing ploy of Pokemon except you can never collect them all or the PlayStation Game with Infinite Levels where you can never reach the End of Game or Game Over.

Every game is different, every opponent brings a new challenge, and even if you replicate all the variables you possibly can, weather, field conditions, opponents, referees you will have a completely different experience each and every time you step on the field. I guess it's best summed up by the annonimous quote:-
"Some days you're the Dog! - some days you're the lampost!"

Win or lose or heaven forbid draw which does seem unsatisfying, you will have new memories to recall and more than likely new friends as a result of adversarial combat on the pitch. Thye game shares a lot of community norms with Rugby, you beat seven bells out of each other on the field and as soon as the whistle goes you buy the person who has spent the last 80 minutes seemingly trying to kill you a pint and say well done, Thanks for the Game!

30 years later I'm now trying to search a means to make a living or a least avoid destitution by Coaching players who haven't been as fortunate as me to come into contact with this great game at an early age or to have met some inspirational people along the way, who shone a light in the darkness and directed me the way the game should be played allowing me to learn from their experience as well as my own.

If only I had been blesed with such inspirational mentors in the other areas of my life, I probably wouldn't to typing on this keyboard to nobody in particular, sharing my thoughts about the greatest game in the World. "Education" as David Timperley (same year at WHGS) used to say "is like dirty water..... The scum always get to the top!" He always used to come out with such wisdom or at least it seemed wisdom at the time. I'm not sure I knew what it meant at the time or even now if the truth be known but I liked the sound of it and it's good to share.

His other nugget of philosophy if that's how it could be described or dirty joke may be more accurate was.

"If a snail crawled up your leg.... It would be two weeks before you said Oooh! That was nice!"

Wherever you are David, probably a Head Master in some elitist Boarding School I hope you've had many occasions where you had the opportunity to say Oooh! that was nice! without any snails being involved. He was a fine cricketer and rugby forward, back row I seem to recall before smoking B&H behind the Sports Hall took it's toll on the one time Junior Athlete. Smoking, Beer & loose women must take account of many a fine sportsman in this Country whose athletic potential is never realised tempted away by a light head or dirty girl whose main attraction seemed to be the inability to say no or stop. Girls didn't have to be pretty ot athletic at school to be atractive to the male teenager, simply being willing was all the requirements necessary.

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