Let me take you back, dear reader, to
the early months of this year, when my husband and I had this
conversation:
Husband: It's the Rugby League World
Cup this year. There might be some matches nearby.
Me: That would be cool, but would we
take Toddler?
H: I don't know, it's in November.
Me: Oh, she'll be nearly two by then,
she'll be much more grown up.
H: Yeah, I reckon she'd be able to
go.
Me: Yeah, let's book some tickets.
Fast forward to two days ago, as I
looked at my nearly-two-year-old daughter, who wasn't that much more
grown up. If anything, the passage of months had just made her more
active and wriggly, and less able to focus on anything for more than
a minute. (Unless that something is 'Raa Raa the Noisy Lion'. Which,
unfortunately, is very different to a rugby match.) I had realised by
this point that I had been a bit naive in thinking she could sit
through an 80-minute match. But the tickets were booked for the
following day's match between England and Ireland. No going back.
It was very important to me that, at
some point in her early life, Toddler should go to a Rugby League
match. Having been mostly uninterested in sport for the first 27
years of my life, I suddenly got interested in Rugby League when
pregnant with her. Up until then, whenever my husband watched it,
I would shake my head, mutter something about it being a violent,
horrible sport, and go into another room. But, being very pregnant, I
didn't have the energy to go into another room, so I ended up
watching it. And loving it. And realising that it wasn't actually
violent as such – yes, it's very physical, rough, sometimes
aggressive, but not actively violent. Thinking about it, it's a very
good example of how to channel the need to 'play rough' in a
non-violent way, which is an important message for young people. So
Rugby League and Toddler seemed to be bound together by this
revelation. But of course, I couldn't go to a match when I was
heavily pregnant, and going with a baby seemed too difficult, so I
was yet to go to a live match myself, and I was excited to share a
first experience with my little girl.
I also wanted to take her to a match
because I wanted her to know that she can be interested in whatever
she wants. Sport is still often seen as a male interest, and RL is a
pretty masculine sport, but the tide is changing and women are
increasingly getting interested and involved in sport. I'd dabbled in
sport as a girl, trying ineptly to play football at primary school,
but it was mainly to prove a point, that girls could be sporty.
Unfortunately, the fact that I can't run without gasping for air and
am apparently unable to kick or dribble a ball with any level of
control, I probably did more damage to the sisterhood than good. But
anyone can watch sport, no matter how unfit and uncoordinated, no
matter what gender. By taking Toddler to a Rugby League match, I
would be broadening her horizons beyond typically 'girly' interests
and showing her that she can like, do, be anything.
All very lofty, of course. But we
kind of overshot in our ambitions. Really, nearly two is a bit young
to expect any child to sit through a match, let alone my very
energetic daughter. We were also a bit silly to take her to see
England v Ireland – it was a sell-out match, which meant a very
crowded stadium (we booked three seats but somehow ended up with only
two, it was that packed). We had to get there nearly two hours early
to get parked, and even then the stadium car park was full. Also,
going in November meant wind and rain, so we couldn't wander around
in the time before kick off, we had to get Toddler under cover as
soon as possible, so she was restless before the match even started.
Half an hour in, she was asking to go home, but we did eventually
manage to get her interested enough to get to the end of the match.
Despite it not being the ideal first
match, I think she enjoyed it. On the way from the car park to the
stadium, she kept saying, "Rubby! 'Citing!" and pulling a
very cheesy excited face. There were various things to engage her –
she liked watching the mascot going round, and we joined in the
chants to keep her amused. She even paid some attention to the
action, shouting, "running," and, "passing," and,
rather cutely, "oops," when someone got tackled. That
evening she babbled happily about all the things she'd seen, and
although when we asked her if it was exciting she said, "no,"
I think really she liked it. So I'm looking forward to taking her
again. When she's a bit older. And the weather is a bit nicer. And
it's a slightly quieter home fixture.
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