Drunk Talk, Opportunities and Being A Dickhead

“My youngfella is doing fitness in the college” *sups on a pint*

“Would he take a look at us training, see what he thinks?” *sups on a pint*

“I’ll say it to him” *finishes his pint*

It was around Summer 2009 (I think) when I was asked by the Roanmore Senior Hurling Team Manager, after he had a conversation with my father over a few drinks, to call over to their next training session. He wanted me to see if what they were doing was “right” and the plan was for me to take a few sessions after that all going well.

I was delighted to be asked because I love hurling and to get involved with the club would be fantastic experience. I would work with them free of charge, of course, to earn my stripes. When you start out it’s very hard to say with confidence that you are worth €50-€100 a session because you’re not.

With my wealth of knowledge (sarcasm) from less than 2 years on courses I walked onto the pitch, introduced myself to the players and management and took a stance back from the session to see what was going to happen. It went a little something like this: Jogging warm-up followed by 10-15 minutes of conditioning work (sit-ups, crunches, squirms) on a wet pitch, some endurance running drills, hurling drills and finished with doggy sprints and stretches.

On the line v Mount Sion 2015 Championship – bragging rights at home at last

I was asked by the manager how the session was going. I told him that the players had been lying in wet grass for 10 minutes after a jogging warm-up. Didn’t make sense to get wet and cold after just getting warmed up! The hurling drills should have been done before the endurance work as fatigued players’ skill can suffer. And doing high intensity interval sprints at the end of a long session may be asking for injuries. There’s an argument for it, but only if the session is based on sprint work with plenty of recovery. Sprinting when fatigued is a recipe for disaster.

In hindsight, I should have been more diplomatic. I could have informed the manager that it was a very good session that only needed some tweeks, because that’s genuinely all it needed, some re-organising. Instead I tore it apart completely discrediting the coach. That wasn’t what I wanted to do at all!! I’m sure I came across as knowing my stuff to the manager but to the coach, not so much!

I thought the best way to make an impression was to show off how smart I was and how much better it would be if I was training the lads. I was way off the mark. Imagine how you’d feel if some young upstart told your “boss” you were doing your job all wrong! You’d be livid. I still had the neck to ask if I could take the next session and the manager agreed, without asking the coach (I didn’t know this), which made the next session a bit awkward to say the least.

The next day the trainer in charge of the session was in no mood to give over the reins as he said he never agreed to it and, understandably, the manager didn’t want to argue! I was thanked and walked away tail between my legs. I still cringe when I remember how I handled the situation but I’ve learned valuable lessons from it. Hopefully if you are reading this and want to get involved with a team you will have learned something too.

Less than 2 years later, I was to be asked back as the teams physical trainer, a role I might not have been asked to fill if I hadn’t been mentioned over pints, given the opportunity to meet the team (foot in the door so to speak) and probably been a bit of a dickhead.