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Can I still get a hug at work?

It's been a while, not since I got a hug at work because I got one yesterday and the only reason I am not getting one today is that I am working from home, but it has been a while since I have put pen to paper (technically fingers to bluetooth enabled keyboard). 'Why James', you ask (or should that be 'Why, James') 'has it been so long since you penned your last blog?' and my reply, in all honesty is, "Have you seen the crap in the news these days?" I had decided last year to try and not talk about stuff I know nothing about (i.e. Politics) and instead tell funny stories and maybe write something relatable. Well unless you relate to rugby good ideas have been scarce as of late until the house of cards starting falling down :) Now, understand, I am in no way supporting any of the people in the news lately but rather am supporting all the people that are NOT in the news lately - all those people that right now are scared that the work hug that has

Luck is the residue of design

“Things worthwhile generally don’t just happen. Luck is a fact, but should not be a factor. Good luck is what is left over after intelligence and effort have combined at their best. Negligence or indifference are usually reviewed from an unlucky seat. The law of cause and effect and causality both work the same with inexorable exactitudes. Luck is the residue of design.” - Branch Rickey I think I may have pontificated about luck as a concept in a previous post but as I cannot actually remember everything I have written I guess I might be writing about this again, however this time will be much better, by design :)  I was reading an article about the first World Series American Rounders game this week between the Astros and the Dodgers when the quote "Luck is the residue of design" was used and I thought, yeah, that makes sense to me. I am not someone who believes so much in luck as in putting yourself in the right place at the right time, and this counts professionally a

The needs of the many

Someone told me to write what I know about - which to them I think meant I need to stop writing altogether :) This week I decided I will write a post about something that I am passionate about instead of knowledgable, so if you want to read a post about rugby continue on, if not you might want to stop here :) I believe it was a certain pointy eared Vulcan that first said "Logic clearly dictates that the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few" - to be honest I had no idea it was a Spock quote till I Binged it - but that is the logic behind this weeks word jumble. Yes it is about rugby,  more specifically youth rugby and what I believe needs to happen for the game to grow not just as a sport but as a personal development tool for youth in the US and other countries. 'But James', you say, 'rugby is all about big lugs with cauliflower ears and broken noses smashing into each other with nary a care for life nor limb'. Well, kind sir/madam, I have to d

Woke up this morning from the strangest dream.

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I was in the biggest army the world has ever seen. We were marching as one, on the road to the Holy Grail. It is not often that I will ever say something nice about the convict colony off the coast of New Zealand (not connected to us by the Sydney Harbor bridge but we are thinking of building a wall around it), however at one point in my life the music that emanated from that large island was, unlike their rugby team, pretty damn good (just like Jim Jefferies is now) The lyrics from Holy Grail by Hunters and Collectors (you can search for it on your Alta Vista search engine) popped into my head this morning after waking up pretty early on POETS day. No idea why, maybe just because I woke up this morning :) Started out, seeking fortune and glory. It's a short song, but it's a hell of a story, when you spend you lifetime trying to get your hands on the Holy Grail I think everyone has a dream of what their life should/could be when growing up. Whether it be a person in the

With friends like these.......

There has been quite a hiatus between me sharing the genius that I call 'me' here in my very personal and private diary blog, not only because I had problems getting inspiration on what to write about (that didn't relate to rugby) but also because I recently headed back to New Zealand with the kids and the chick, which is directly related to this weeks word jumble. Traveling halfway across this flat planet (no, no it's not flat but there is a Flat Planet Convention in Raleigh soon and I don't have any tinfoil to make hats with nor enough alcohol to deal with their stupidity so I will pretend to cater to their lunacy - yes the earth is flat, the moon landings never happened and the current president of the US is........nothing, got nothing) is quite a trip (the idea of using parentheses is to insert a new idea/comment into the sentence without breaking up the sentence thread seems odd when the bit in the parentheses (brackets) is longer the actual sentence itself

Why aren't you playing touch rugby?

This Wednesday in fairly decent heat (about 90F so 32C for the rest of the world) about 24 hardy souls from the Cary Claymores and Coach Chris from the North Raleigh Redhawks turned out for a couple of hours of running around (with plenty of water breaks) to play some touch rugby. Kids ages varied from around 6 to 14 with about 8 parents/coaches joining in. Everyone got the touch the ball, everyone got to run forward (some sideways and backwards but we are working on that), everyone got to pass, most of the kids got to score tries and everyone had fun - why weren't you there? We do it most every week. Touch Rugby is the sport you want to get involved with, it is the sport you want your kids to get involved in and all they need equipment wise is shoes, clothes to run around in and the want to learn about the game that will help them hugely in life, especially when it comes to making decisions, teamwork and respect. This week we had a new Dad bring his 2 kids out for the first t

Keep your friends close......

And don't be afraid to call a person an asshole if they are an asshole (or arsehole depending on whether you celebrate the 4th of July or not). Y'know it can be tough to write a weakly blog (and yes, I know, it was deliberate and I shouldn't have to explain that). It has been a few years since I started using this secret personal public diary to occasionally impart words of wisdom (if they can be called that) to the multitude of people who read this (pretty much Mum and her book club) and sometimes inspiration hits me right in the feels and sometimes it just passes on by. Sometimes an article in the electronic news inspires me, sometimes it is a song, a passing comment or just something that pops in the grey squishy matter then suddenly I am off to the races. Lately there has been little that has popped hence the sparsity of brilliance over the past couple of months. I try to pontificate on subjects I have passing knowledge of or some passion for, but lately my knowledge

If you can't change the people, change the people

The above saying is attributed to 'Unknown' by the wonderful people that created the Archie Query Form - and based on many other famous sayings attributed to 'Unknown' he/she must have been one of the greatest minds that we have ever known. Anyway - enough about him/her - let's move on to this weeks word jumble. If you can't change the people, change the people. There are 2 ways to look at this statement and they are quite polar (which is a real thing as the earth is round and flat earthers are nuts). As a person who has had a few positions in management (to others misfortune), mainly on the sales side, changing the people often means interviewing for new employees however as a rugby coach (certified by USA Rugby) changing the people means something completely different as we don't hand out pink slips to kids learning the game. Since it is rugby season (it is always rugby season for me) lets look at that interpretation first. As a sports coach you hav

The fundamentals of the game

And yes this is going to be about rugby with parallels into the business world - I can talk mildly intelligently about almost one of those subjects :) England rugby great Martin Johnson recently spoke about the All Blacks and what makes them so good - he stated 'the All Blacks capitalize by not making errors, doing everything well - those are what people call "the basics", the fundamentals of the game'. Rugby (as with most sports) is all about the basics, and the basics of rugby are pass backward, run forward, retain possession and support your team mates. Sure there are a few more components to to the game but bottom line is about those basics. Over the last couple of years I have been fortunate enough to help teach the game I love to an amazing group of kids in Cary, NC. This has been our first season with tackle and in a just over a week we will see how good we have been as coaches when we play the Carolina Cup at an amazing rugby facility in Pinehurst. It has

Lowered Expectations

I was going to write this week about friends, work friends mainly, and mainly the work friends that you still have at a company that you were asked to leave from 5 years ago (isn't it odd how weirdly specific these blogs seem to be, it is almost as if many of these stories are based on actual events that happened). You know you left a mark on a company when a person who you haven't seen seen in over 5 years asks you when you are having the next Poets Day as part of the opening 'Hello' statement - obviously he hasn't seen me in 5 years or he would know that every Friday is Poets Day. Anyways, so I am not going to give a shout out to Jet ski, Rivers, that Welsh Car Blog writer (no the Lions do not have a chance), Kelli, Tom S, Chris C and the beautiful 10 week old daughter of two of my favorite people - even if one of them is bald (and they never pop over for a beer). I am definitely not going to do that as I think only one of them even reads this damn thing - and sh

Sometimes it's nice to mow your neighbors lawn

And no that is not a euphemism I have some great neighbors. One couple, let's call them Keve and Stim (names changed to protect the innocent, not very well I may add) built a little walkway between the 2 houses that is known as Roberts Way, pretty sure the main reason for it was to stop me from stomping all over Stim's flowers when I wander over for a beer but it was still a nice gesture. Anyway - back to the lawn mowing. Keve loves to run but recently had some surgery that meant that running wasn't such a good idea any more so he decided to start riding a bike. He was doing pretty well riding through the neighborhood with Stim sitting in a cute little basket he had on the front of the bike (a la Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, not that Butch had Sundance in a basket because as we all know no one puts Sundance in a basket - or is it baby in a corner?). Anyway one day Keve, sans basket and Stim, decided to go on a more adventurous ride when a jackass in a black Subu

It takes a village to raise a child

There is a group of guys that I know pretty well who have decided to raise a child, but not in the typical way of raising a child and mostly because it is not a normal child. The one thing that they all agree on is how the child is going to grow and that they will work together as a village to make sure the child is nurtured, cared for and given the best opportunities to succeed. To just add a quick disclaimer I am one of those guys and the child, well it is a rugby club, the Cary Claymores - sponsorship opportunities available :) A quick history of the Claymores from my personal experience with them. Back a couple of years ago I heard of a rugby training clinic being held at the NC State rugby field. I thought I would pop over to have a look as rugby attracts kiwis a bit like blondes to Benjamins :) I met up with a guy we will call Matt (mainly because that is his name) who had recently started the Cary Claymores and had maybe 10-15 kids showing up to play touch rugby and work so

You can't coach determination

It is the most wonderful time of the year right now - some seem to think that the most wonderful time of the year is at the end of December when people celebrate (or don't depending on their beliefs) fat red men breaking into their houses and Coca-Cola ads. However, as is often the case, the people are wrong. The most wonderful time of the year is the end of February and March. It is the time of some of the best salt water fishing in New Zealand, the snow is slowly starting to melt up in those states that are close to Canada, pollen is about to destroy my sinuses and Super Rugby is back on ESPN3 (just wish the 6 Nations was easier to watch). Some of you may be wondering what rugby has got to do with anything I write about - in which case welcome to your first Poets Day blog :) A few months ago All Black Ardie Savea was fortunate enough to have his photo taken with the kids and I when we were in Chicago to watch the All Blacks play, it was probably the highlight of the year for

Who will tell the emperor he is not wearing any clothes?

It is not often that I start one of my posts with a disclaimer this week I will, sort of. This weeks posts has been fermenting/stagnating in my mind for a while, it was based on a comment I made to The English Major Aug/Sept last year and is no way related to the current going ons in the world. Although it seems pretty damn pertinent for some odd reason - maybe these posts are a bit like The Simpsons - 2 dimensional and a bit hit or miss :) I am sure most of y'all recall the short tale by Hans Christian Anderson (and no he is not the lead singer in Aqua for you Millennials) about the Emperor who was so fond of new clothes he spent all his money buying new outfits - I used to date a girl like that. A couple of con-artists turned up and convinced him they could weave him the most amazing outfit, so amazing in fact that only a person as suitable (oh that was bad) as him would be able to see the patterns and colors, stupid people were not worthy of appreciating the beauty of his n

You have got to respect the man in the hoodie

So this weeks I was going to write something completely different - a post that originally came to mind around August/September last year and one that seems particularly relevant now however a man in a hood changed all that on Sunday so you will have to wait on that one, sorry to The English Major. Instead this week we look at the greatest coach in all professional sports and the person who has benefited from his genius. The man in the hoodie, the grumpy professor, the cheat (according to some/many) and the ball slinger that has benefited from his genius. There can be no denying the greatness of the New England Patriots over the last 16 years. As much as I used to hate the team (due to a personal dislike of an individual) I have to admire and respect what they have done, and based on that I am a fan of the New England Patriots, it is hard not to be. They have been in 7 SuperBowls, won 5 and lost 2 (both to the NY Giants) with Tom Brady now the winningest quarterback in Super Bowl hi

It's the start of the year as I know it

Time to make a resolution Ok, so I may be a month late and a few sandwiches short of a picnic, but January is an odd month on a good day. What with the hangover from Christmas and New Years then a bout of the cold followed by a work trip to Hawaii (yes it was work damn it) and a day in San Francisco on the way back the month was not as productive as it should have been - apart from the work bit which I guess makes my bosses Jean Claude (the famous fight pilot and lover extraordinaire) and Mr Cloud happy - somewhat important I guess as I haven't won Powerball yet and selling my body on the back streets of North Hills, Raleigh is not going that well for me. So here we go 2017, bring it :) As some of all y'all might know I finished the Austin TriRock Olympic distance triathlon in September 2016 and raised almost $3000 for Make-A-Wish. Not long after I brilliantly tore my hamstring (and I really tore it up) and I that has been quite the painful experience - not something I r

Come on people now, smile on your brother

There is this very large prison colony off the West Coast of New Zealand, some of y’all might know of it as Australia, we know it as the thieving mongrel colony. There is an intense amount of dislike between New Zealand and Penal Colony Dingoland, especially when it comes to sport. Probably the apex of this happened in the gentleman’s sport of cricket when the Australian captain and his brother lowered the standards for bad sportsmanship with the Underarm delivery in 1981. They are the people we love to hate, the ones we love to beat, the ones that haven’t yet supported gay marriage and their race policy towards the Aboriginals has been, quite frankly, horrendous – and let’s not mention the snakes, spiders, deadly jellyfish and dingoes eating babies. They are quite frankly a giant bag of dicks, and we have fought side by side with them forever and we always will. The ANZAC spirit (Australia New Zealand Army Corps) is a legacy that will never pass and as much as we love to hate them,