My gestation period…

About nine months ago all “access” to my child was taken away. It took court appearances to get this put back together. My daughter and I have a good relationship now, just like we did before. But stronger even.

And now I am football coach for her team.

Doing things slightly differently.

Felt the club boss needed to hear this.,…

I referee one half of the games but have stayed on the field as a parent support (some would legally call this an “on the field coaching position”). I ask the opposing coach and referee before doing this, and all have been supportive. One coach thinks it is a great idea and should have done it last years himself! Personally, I feel it works brilliantly at this stage. The children have all learnt from it making their games more enjoyable. It is a triumph for them, and me, when they listen and things work on the field. They scored a great team goal – all players touched the ball from keeper to scorer without the other team getting a tackle in!!! – and two of them (once celebrations were over) shot me a look that may have translated to “holy shit, thanks coach”… If the opposing teams Mum and Dad whom took exception to this “on field parental support” complain officially anywhere then I am gladly able to provide evidence that my pure intent is to have kids enjoy the game and stay with football. The fact that I am willing enough to make a complete fool of myself in front of a bunch of strangers (and their parents) to support this ideal is unusual. It should not, however, be considered a flaw. 

It is more a flaw of the parents whom complain about me being on the field. When a player got hit with the ball and fell into a heap, I was first there keeping her calm and breathing. When our keeper starting balling her little eyes out as the other team had got four goals, I was there with a hug, a good word (“they would have scored SIX if you were not there – so remember the two brilliant saves. I am old. Trust me”) and a pat on the head as she looked up with a hint of a smile. This is priceless time. Absolutely priceless.

Am not qualified in any way, shape or form.

Hell, according to the family court I am such a risk I should not even be allowed my own child under my own reconnaissance.

Yet, here we are.

Another team has no coach, so the club boss approaches at training on Tuesday evening and dumps another team in my lap. Having just spent the day nervously reading coaching manuals and child development guides (along with getting another tattoo done in order to alleviate spinal pain before training, you understand….) and taking half an hour to set up things for training my team, getting another team to deal with was a bit on the nose.

“Hey – I have enough trouble with my own team at this point in time mate” – SAYS ME.

“This is the way it is going to work” SAYS HIM TURNING HIS BACK AND LEAVING.

Well, if that is the way it is, you and your club can GET FUCKED – THINKS ME.

I did not say anything and within half a second, before the kids could notice a disturbance in the force, I was back to training. This, however, was a major spanner in the works of the good ship that was our teams first structured training.

We managed. We did quite well. 

I managed, and did well enough.

I do not get paid. It costs me money, of which there is none. The internet and cellphone are about to be cut, yet here I am being bullied around by someone whom earns $80,000 a year running the tourism promotion board for Wellington region. 

I am not paying a cent more to this club for my daughters playing football. 

My daughters team will have no coach at games itself soon. My car is illegal, it will not get new tyres or pass a test as the money is not available.

Yet here I am looking after twenty ADHD rich kids for one of the richest clubs in New Zealand.


Without people like me, people like you would have to take an hour off work to look after your annoying offspring. And then your car may not have tyres, or you may have to clean the leaves out your new spa pool all by yourselves due to the $100 an hour you make being SO FUCKEN IMPORTANT THAT YOU LEAVE ME, A GUY WITH ALMOST 100 CRIMINAL CONVICTIONS, LOOKING AFTER YOUR KIDS.

And probably doing a better job than you.

SORRY – Damn, this is coming out wrong. Am not intending to be bitter and jaded…. 

Seriously loving the kids and getting to know them and their crazy little personalities. I am so damn proud of them sometimes. Other times I pull my hair out.

This may be a version of becoming a real parent.

ZERO KIDS to TWENTY 9 and 10 year olds in NINE MONTHS.

My higher power is showing a vindictive streak.




  1. hey fellow fiend.

    i love this!
    i also relate to your thoughts on na progroms.
    i do cma here in sydney. i go to na to remind myself how happy i actually am!
    keep on trucking, coaching, parenting, ranting, sharing & coming back!


    1. Good shit matey. Thanks for the message… Cannot.believe how people going to N.A for twenty years talk about themselves cleaning pots for twenty minutes of a one hour meeting when there are girls there drinking and going back to jail who are itching to share and talk. Selfish shit head BEFORE addiction, still a selfish shithead after. YOU CANNOT BLAME EVERYTHING ON BEING AN ADDICT!


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