NE63 Haiku

Warm, low whistling wind Grey feathers scattering pitch History repeats How does that saying go? "Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it" - George Santayana Looks like I fell into one of those that has not learnt from my own personal history.  On Friday night my son, Max had a friend sleep over. Which is fine, but the next day he had a football game so we told him no late night so they could be properly rested for the game. I always love game days, the excitement the night before, getting Max hyped and stoking his ego to play well, getting the team strip ready, his shin pads and boots. Waking up early for breakfast and any last minute preparations such as a trip to Tesco for a drink and a post-game snack (usually a Yorkie bar). The drive to the venue is filled with anxiety, excitement, nerves, what ifs? Will Max play well? Will the team?  Saturday was Bedlington Utd. NE22 Greens (Max's new Saturday team after leaving Newcastle Sporting as mentioned here ) ...

Heartbeat racing now Son shining, breeze pushes back This hero retires The 20th August 2026, 18:30... a date and time I won't forget. Now you're probably wondering why. That's a very good question, and I promise I'll get back to why. Just humour me for a moment... It's nearing the end of the kids' summer holiday from school. It's pre-season for Max's football team, and the lads have been training throughout the six weeks off, having the odd friendly and taking part in a tournament (the less we say about the tournament, the better). The lads have been working hard on their fitness, game tactics and formations. Having been part of the coaching team, it's been great watching them grow, especially Max. It's also a privilege to help shape these young kids' lives. To help them not only on their football journey, but also as they develop into young men. Learning resilience, patience, teamwork, how to win graciously and how to lose. Now, Thursday...

Shouts of cheer ringing Warm sun broken by drizzle Clouds of frustration

Mjolnir strike s the skies Flooding streets, halting progress  Tiredness and rest

Chirping and singing  Warming light casts over us The whistle awaits

Confused sky, wet, dry Ground soft underfoot, grass slick journey comes to end

Rays of golden light Goosebumps in the spring breeze Efforts came up short

Whistle ringing loud Off-white clouds blanket the sky Pride bursts from my chest There was a familiar feel to the morning. A 10am kick off under an off-white sky, clouds stretched out overhead while the wind came and went in bursts. It felt like good football weather. Coming into the game, it carried a bit of weight. First one back after last week’s defeat, and for the opening 20 minutes, it showed. The lads didn’t quite look themselves. A little off it, a little slow to settle. But they found their way into it. We went 1–0 up after 12 minutes. A solid start. Three minutes later, the opposition pulled it back. Then not long after, they went ahead, making it 2–1. It felt like one of those games that could drift away if we let it. Right before half time, we found the equaliser. 2–2 going into the break. The game felt intense. Not frantic, just heavy with importance. At half time, it wasn’t about tearing into them — just staying positive, encouraging them to trust themselves and put the w...

Rain falls after sun Slick grass tamed by muddy boots Late victory comes Sunday morning, 11:30am kick-off. A dry start, the kind of calm that makes you think the game might settle early. We didn’t wait long. Ten minutes in, we go 1–0 up. A strong start, confidence high. But football has a way of pulling things back — ten minutes later, the opposition find their equaliser. Game on. Then the weather turns. The rain comes in, steady at first, then heavier. What started as a clean pitch quickly becomes slick, muddy, unpredictable. Every touch matters more. Every step just that bit harder. Half-time arrives with everything still level. A team talk, a reset. You could feel it — the need to dig in, to stay together, to believe there was more in the game. The second half becomes a battle. Not pretty, not easy. Just effort, determination, and moments of grit. And then, in the final 15 minutes, it all opens up. One goal. Then another. Then a third. From the nerves of a draw — and the worry of wh...

Early morning sun Gentle breeze across the pitch Joining celebrations The Long Wait is Over: Sun, Sunday League, and a 5-0 Win Since the 21st of December, the weekends have felt a little quieter, a little more shadowed. But this morning, the long wait finally ended. Max’s Sunday team took to the pitch for their first game in two months, and the atmosphere couldn't have been more different from the artificial lights of the indoor camp. The world felt like it was finally waking up: Early morning sun Gentle breeze across the pitch Joining celebrations There’s something about a crisp February morning when the sun actually decides to show up. It wasn't just about the weather, though; it was the energy. Watching the boys work so hard for one another after such a long break was incredible. They weren't just playing as individuals; they were a unit, a team in every sense of the word. Max played his heart out. As a dad, you feel every moment with them. He’s been chasing a goal for a...

Air cool against skin Artificial light and grass My pride watching son shine There are moments as a parent that just stick with you, capturing a feeling so pure it almost takes your breath away. This weekend, I had one of those moments watching Max at his football training camp. The setting was a world away from a sunny outdoor pitch. We were inside a large, cavernous facility. The air was cool, almost cold against my skin, a stark contrast to the energy on the field. Above, bright artificial lights hummed, casting an even glow over the green artificial grass beneath. It’s a familiar environment for many young athletes, a dedicated space for skill and passion. And in that moment, this haiku came to mind: Air cool against skin  Artificial light and grass My pride watching son shine It perfectly encapsulated the scene. The sensory details were sharp: the cool air, the synthetic turf, the bright, almost sterile light. Yet, despite the artificiality of the environment, the experience i...