It’s Thursday. A crisp, overcast, July afternoon in 2013. I’m kneeling on the rugby field alongside seventeen of my teammates, and training is about to end. Our coach gives us our final instructions before Saturday’s game, and signs off with a reminder to arrive with clean jerseys and clean boots.
Rugby is a messy sport. Mud, grass stains, and blood are part of the deal. So as a thirteen-year-old boy, I didn’t understand why we needed to turn up impeccably dressed.
Twenty years later, I get it.
Turning up in a clean jersey and boots communicates both self respect and respect to the opposition. It triggers something in the mind that says I’m here, I’m ready, and I’m striving for excellence in every part of my game.
As someone who no longer plays team sports, I miss that uniformity of expression in a sporting context. Where everyone on the team knows their role and what’s expected of them; even down to the smallest detail: clean boots.