Life and Times

It was pre-ordained that I would be a sports-geek. Saturday September 26, 1981 my father Steve wrapped me up in a blanket, probably a red and black one and took off to Burwood Park.

Sporting about as much hair as I do now, the 107-day old me was signed up to become the youngest ever member of the East Christchurch Shirley Cricket Club.

I still know the words to “Give it a Boot Robbie” and remember – with zero fondness – the taste of raspberry jam AND marmite on the same piece of “Canterbury Toast”, a pre-shield game ritual at our one-eyed house.

I did more than a decade as a sports journo and while not for one second do I regret leaving that field to get into financial advice, It’s still nice to hold court every now and then and tell stories about how I once made Richie McCaw blush, how squash dynamo Joelle King led me into the women’s changing rooms full of nude women and how I got to ask Andre Agassi about how much of his book was exaggerated for dramatic affect.