Nine days later, the world keeps spinning
REFLECTIONS & IDEAS · PERFORMANCE & PERSPECTIVE
Nine days later,
the world keeps spinning.
Nine days ago, Portlaoise lost our championship quarter-final in O'Moore Park by two points. My twentieth senior season was over.
I was devastated. Coming down the stretch, I missed two two-point attempts. I've replayed both plenty of times since.
In team meetings at work last week, I'd find myself shaking my head as the reality landed again. Around me, people were talking about projects, deadlines and what needed doing next. Part of me was still on the pitch.
But the world keeps spinning.
There was a time when a loss like that would have taken over for weeks. Football came first in how I saw myself. Everything else came after it. I still care deeply, and I still wish those shots had gone over. But I'm noticing that the disappointment doesn't have to take everything else with it.
And, having replayed those moments, I'm happy I backed myself.
I'd take the shots again
They were the right shots to take. I've scored them many times, including in pressure moments, and practised them over and over. I got myself into a position to help us and took responsibility when the opportunities came.
This time, they didn't come off.
One of the late attempts.
I can look honestly at the execution and what I could have done better without deciding that stepping up was a mistake. That's a distinction I think we can lose when we're disappointed.
Would I be happier now if I'd avoided the responsibility? I don't think so.
There's something called outcome bias: judging a decision by how it turned out, rather than by what you knew and the options you had when you made it. A miss can make a sensible decision look foolish. A lucky result can hide a poor one.
That doesn't let us off the hook. Reviewing performance matters. But the review is more useful when we can ask two separate questions: was it the right decision, and how well did I carry it out?
Being honest about the preparation
My preparation this season wasn't ideal. I don't want to talk about trusting your preparation and leave that bit out.
I chose to take time away and didn't return until May, when the league was basically over. Then I spent July in Oz, coming back in the last week of the month. It was a short season.
I spent that time with friends and loved ones and had the chance to be a fly on the wall around the Geelong AFL team. More on that experience in another post.
Those choices meant less time preparing with the team. I have to own that. I'm also happy I made them.
I'm in a much happier place off the field now. I have good people around me and a life I'm grateful for. That's worth a lot.
Football matters, but a good performance won't fix everything going on outside it. You can play well while struggling elsewhere. You can deliver at work while the rest of your life is stretched thin. Keeping that going is another matter.
For me, looking after life away from the pitch has become part of being able to show up on it. There are trade-offs. Being honest about them is more useful than pretending we can give everything to everything, all the time.
What we do tells us something
Our actions influence our chances. The work we put in, the conversations we avoid, the rest we take and the opportunities we put ourselves forward for all matter. None of it guarantees a result.
It also influences the relationship we have with ourselves.
I want to be someone who can enter an unfamiliar or uncomfortable environment, back himself to have a go, and adapt and learn along the way. Taking those shots was consistent with that. Missing them doesn't wipe it out.
How I see myself influences what I do. What I do then gives me evidence about how I see myself. Identity and action feed into each other.
That can happen in small ways. You speak up once in a meeting. You have the conversation you've been putting off. You ask for help. You follow through on something you said mattered to you.
You don't suddenly become fearless. You build a little more trust that you can act while feeling unsure. Sometimes the confidence follows the action.
That's something I keep coming back to in my coaching work: what would backing yourself actually look like in your next decision? Something you can do, rather than something you have to feel first.
What shot are you sitting on?
We hear plenty about missing the shots we don't take. Well, I missed the ones I did take.
I'm still glad I took them.
That isn't an argument for taking every chance blindly. Experience, preparation and judgement matter. But waiting until there's no chance of disappointment can keep us waiting a very long time.
Maybe your shot is applying for a role, making a call, starting a conversation with someone you care about or putting an idea out into the world. You might get the answer you want. You might not.
What are you waiting to feel before you give yourself a chance?
A bit of perspective
Having my dad involved this season meant a lot. So did the influence of the other two managers, both of whom made a real impression on me.
While I was in Oz, we got the news that one of them had to step away for health reasons. Someone who had been giving so much to us suddenly had something far more important to deal with.
That was hard to hear. And it puts losing a football match into perspective.
Those of us who can take to the field are lucky. Fit enough to train, to compete, to be part of a team. We know that in theory, but when you’re caught up in selection, performance and results, it’s easy to lose sight of it.
Nine-year-old me would have dreamed of the run I've had with Portlaoise. Twenty senior seasons, plenty of success, more than most get to enjoy, and friendships that go far beyond football.
None of that happens on your own. Teammates, coaches, family, friends and people around the club have given so much. Being part of something bigger than myself is one of the things I'll value most when the playing eventually stops.
The loss hurts. Life is great. Both are true.
Nine days later, the world keeps spinning. I'm grateful for who's in mine.
Best of luck to Killeshin, and thanks to everyone who backed us this season.
What would backing yourself look like?
If this resonated, we can make space to explore what matters to you and what your next step could be.
