With the new season kicking off, I along with other senior members have been strong-armed into sharing some words of wisdom for the season ahead. You know the sort of thing, a hearty welcome back and some healthy optimism about the clubs’ upcoming season. So, after several cups of questionable coffee from the club’s machine, here’s mine.

As I enter the third year in my role at the club, I’ve learnt that there is always something going on! I have survived all manner of challenges and difficulties. Anything from dog mess and rubbish on the pitches to people problems, club infrastructure challenges or financial and procedural issues, not to mention pitch space constraints along with grass seed that won’t grow due to lack of rain or pigeons eating it, or even, unbelievable as it sounds, problems caused by the odd flying cabbage.

So, after all that and more, you’d think I’d have figured out what I’m doing by now. This of course is dependent on who you ask. Still, I must admit I love what I do even if I’m not very good at it, and I may now possess that most dangerous thing: just enough knowledge to be a hazard to myself and others. What I can say with absolute certainty is that this role is a relentless time thief, hard work and just to add insult to injury, completely unpaid.

However, there are times when I can just sit back, relax and smile. Maybe it’s when the players are celebrating and ‘table dancing’, seeing one of the junior sides return from an excellent tour, the proud dad who’s just played his one and only game with his son, or even the ladies managing to field a full side. There are so many more I could quote, but when the club is full of people, well fed and watered, there’s simply no other place like it; and then, it’s the best job in the world.

We should be proud of what we have and what we are, and what we are is due entirely to our membership and volunteers. Some things go wrong of course but many go well. For instance, the many volunteers that organised the recent fun day when Chepstow RFC were invited up on mass was, for me, one of the most efficiently organised and successful days the club has seen in many seasons. All supported by members and players alike.

These people come from all backgrounds and in all shapes and sizes. Some (not many) could grace the cover of a glossy magazine, while others look as if they’ve just emerged from their beds. On the sidelines, there’s the youthful energy of the next generation, the vocal raucousness of the ladies and the battle-hardened wisdom of the old farts, who quite often aren’t watching the game at all! Also of course, the rugby experts who dissect everything after the game whist complaining about the price of their pint.

Then there’s the committee members, often under fire but committed to the cause, whist the coaching staff similarly committed always have the same two answers after a game depending on the result, either not happy or very impressed. The bar staff however don’t really care who won provided the clubhouse is kept tidy.

It’s this blend of personalities and talents, quirks and camaraderie, that forges the character of our club. Sometimes it’s the quiet, unseen things like muddy kit collected for washing, the repair of the toilet door that mysteriously fell off, or the grass being cut that keep everything ticking. Then there are those wonderful Sunday mornings when the club and grounds are full of youngsters from our fantastic junior set up, their energy and mischievousness everywhere you look.

Other times, it’s Reever telling his stories or the treasurer raising one eyebrow ‘James Bond style’ when asked for funds, or its the raucous laughter after a five halves event, and who can relate to the communal cries of ‘surely that’s time by now ref’ as we wait for that final whistle when we’re hanging on to a narrow lead.

What unites us all, across generations and abilities, is a love for the game and an unwavering loyalty to each other. We’ve weathered storms and basked in sunshine, both literally and metaphorically, and each new season brings the promise of more memories and, inevitably, more stories.

So, as we remove last season’s mud from our boots, find the corner flags in the container, search the clubhouse for the match balls whist complaining we need new ones, we brace ourselves for another year of triumphs, heartbreaks, and flying cabbages, let’s remember: a club is only as strong as its people, and ours are second to none.

Here’s to the next chapter and may it be as gloriously unpredictable as all the rest.

Kev N
OCRFC
GBTS