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Showing posts from 2018

2018 in the rearview mirror

Well - let's be frank, 2018 was not a big year for Poets Day posts - only 10 blogs written - about 1,700 reads total but which means about 170 people read each blog, which is not horrible considering they are, let's be honest, not always that good and very rugby centric  :) So what have I been up to since I haven't been writing Poets Day posts you ask ? Well, you probably didn't ask, so I am taking a bit of a liberty here :) Rugby, I have been doing an awful lot of rugby stuff in my free time. I am a founding board member with Cary Rugby who had U10, U12 and U14 tackle teams in 2018 plus a U8 and sometimes U10 touch teams. I also assisted Coaches Tim and Jose on a local select U14 team that went to a 2 day tournament in South Carolina. I then decided it would be fun to go to Asheville to drink beers with the local Raleigh Rugby Old Boys team and somehow ended up on the paddock for a brief stint. For the first time in about 27 years I actually "played" tack

How to motivate like a pro

Just a word of advice there might be some bad words in this weeks blog according to my Mum  - who was a teacher, luckily never mine though :) It has been a month since I quit smoking. I quit once in 2012 but then I told someone the product they had come up with was, and I quote - well close to quote - "A complete waste of fucking time and one of the stupidest things I have ever seen" (which conveys the content of my statement at the time) whilst sitting next to the CEO of my soon to be ex-employer. I started smoking again soon after that statement when my new job was to find a new job :) This time the motivation was different and two-fold and combined they created the perfect storm (so far). Firstly there was the emotional blackmail motivation from 5ft 6 of terror known to most as Turtle, my daughter. She threatened to pack up her bags and run off to New Zealand if I didn't quit, I am guessing at this point some people back home would prefer I was still smoking  :)

The sport you never knew you wanted to play

So the other day I was tasked with coming up with a banner to help promote the youth rugby club that I am on the board of and I was trying to come up with a tag line. I searched the world wide inter web for guidance but quickly got sick of cat videos, Fox News and just blah. So I delved into the recesses of the grey squishy bit between my ears and came up with: Rugby. The sport you never knew you wanted to play. Now, I could have stopped with ' The sport you never knew ' as in the US that seems to be the case. Very few people know of the sport, some know of it but really know nothing and those that do know, well they play :) So lets start with the first group, those that don't know. Can't really blame them that much as it is not a prime time game with overhyped songs inquiring if you are ready for some football (the too-may-pads one, not the kicky one). It doesn't appeal to the major networks as it has that one thing that American sports hate, a lack of timeo

I tried writing this post before....

Well at least a post that was something like this. Actually I may have already written this post but I forget stuff so here we go again maybe :)  Earlier this week a friend of mine posted the comment on the book of faces " If you decide that one of my children don't belong somewhere because of the color of their skin and decide it is ok to assault or taunt them, I WILL protect and defend my own. If you have an issue with someone, best to keep it to yourself. This is not the 1960's or earlier when you can say and do things to people with racially motivated hate and not have some action reciprocated." This person is my friend for a couple of reasons, we first met met when I coached his son on the rugby field when the team he was with was a few players short and we would create what they call motley teams over here in the US (I prefer to call them The Barbarians but then again I am correct)  :)  My friends son is a wonderful kid, absolute joy to coach and to be ar

My ultra private blog diary needs updating

Dear Ultra Secret Private Diary that I can write in without fear of anyone else ever reading what I post here, it has been over a month since I last wrote about anything here and I think it is time to unburden my soul in some writing therapy - mainly because it is cheaper than real therapy and I hate taking pills :) You know what, I was going to write some silly post here about rugby and shit but what use is a therapeutic blog (which this sometimes is) if you don't bare your soul a little. This weekend is Memorial Weekend, I will get to go coach rugby, hang out with some amazing friends and cheer and rejoice in the game that I love - sounds pretty awesome right, and it is. But I only get to do this off the backs of those who gave so much that I can be free. Some of y'all might recall that I did a brief stint in the NZ Territorials back in 88 - I never pretend to be a soldier I might add, however I did sign up to be one. I got kicked out because of my back and not due to a

A Poem by the Monkey

Protect and Serve White supremacists all around Then I felt something I looked down at a child He was tracing the outline of himself in the shield. The child looked up. He doesn't realize the power of his suit. The others looked in awe He looked back Continued to outline himself No one is born racist They are just exposed to it But it's still our job to Protect and Serve No matter the cost Charlie Roberts April 2018

Familiarity breeds content

Go back and read that title a second time a little slower - it is not what you first thought. Sometimes there is nothing better than the warm embrace of familiarity, especially when things are a little off kilter. I have a buddy, let's call him John Clayton because he is a tree guy (I promise you that makes sense). He went through one of the nastiest things a person can, the breaking up of a consensual partnership where there was a short person that joined the consenualness prior to the partnership dissolving  (marriage and kid that went to no marriage but still a kid for those of you who need me to stop writing like I have a degree in Pompous Gasbag). Well John was having a hard time transitioning from being at home and seeing Little John every day to not seeing him every day, but then he got re-inolved with something that bought him content. Rugby :) That is right, as usual this weeks post as are the majority has something to do with rugby :) But on a serious note it was t

Trust in the team mate on your left and right - but have their back

I refuse to succumb to the people that say I write about rugby too much, so if you don't want to learn a valuable teamwork lesson from the slightly damaged mind of Coach Kiwi then just skip the rest of this weeks post and proceed directly to the fridge and grab a cold one :) A year or so back I was at a USA Rugby Coaching clinic. There was a great group of people there including a couple of buddies whom I coach with me, a couple of big fellas called Byron and Jason, there were guys that work down at Bragg and travel a bit to sandy locations and coaches from some other clubs. The awesome Katie Wurst ran the course that was moved to a local cross fit location (scary place) as it was a tad chilly at the time. The course was a combination of discussions then setting up drills and getting the other coaches to act as the players. Training was a part-whole-part model (or a derivative of that) and after doing a part training teaching how important it was to come up in a line on defense

We miss you Sherilyn

30 years ago I lost a great friend and I have felt a little guilty about it ever since, not that I should, but I do. This is the often told but never written story of the last time I saw Sherilyn White alive and the words that she said that have haunted me to this day. First we need to give a bit of a backstory. I used to love to ride my bike, whether it was a collapsible bike that we used camping, my ever faithful Chopper with the 3 speed shifter, banana seat and ape hanger bars, my red Morrison Monarch whose frame I bent in a crash and never realized it till I got a 2nd hand Peugeot road bike then tried to ride the old Monarch again and couldn't, my Cannondale that I got rid of in 1990 after being told either quit training for triathlons or end up in a wheel chair, the Haro mountain bike I bought 15 years later that lasted 10 years or the Specialized I have now after riding the Haro to death. One of my favorite things was to be out on the road (or these days bike paths) headp

You can't win every game......

And the sooner you learn that the better off you are. A friend of mine posted on the book of faces about a girls youth bouncy ball game the other day and about the actions of the opposition, punching her daughter in the back at the end of the game preceded by scratching, elbows and dirty shots throughout the game......and that was just in the stands. Actually it was on the bouncy ball paddock (or whatever they call it) but it just easily could have been in the stands these days. My friend asked the question of whose fault is it for repetitive dirty play on the bouncy ball court, was it the fault of the referee, the fault of the coach but for some reason did not ask if it was the fault of the parent. The 'win at any cost, live vicariously through your child's athletic endeavors trying to make up for the failures in their lives' parent is a major issue for any coach of youth sport. The need to win every game no matter what mentality is (most likely - remember these posts

I’ve been down here before and I know the way out

I was watching West Wing over the Christmas break and there was episode where a character with PTSD after being shot (Josh) went to see a Head Doctor. When he came out Leo was waiting for him - an Alcoholic - and he told him this story:     This guy is walking down a street when he falls in a hole, the walls are so steep he can’t get out. A Doctor passes by and the guy shouts out “Hey you, can you help me out”. The Doctor writes a prescription, throws it down in the hole and moves on.    Then a Priest come along and the guy shouts out “Father, I am down in this hole, can you help me out?”. The Priest writes out a prayer, throws it down in the hole then moves on.    Then a friend walks by “Hey Joe, it’s me, can you help me out?” and the friend jumps in the hole. The guy says “Are you stupid, now we are both down here?” The friend says “Yeah, but I’ve been down here before and I know the way out" "I've been down here before and I know the way out" - got me