My 'Girdwood' Moment

My rugby career didn't make it past a couple of preseason bouts with my university team because of a wrist injury, but I loved every minute of it. Ironically enough, it started in highschool for me. The year I entered grade 9, there was much turmoil between the Ontario government and OSSTF (some things remain constant). Hence, extra-curricular activities were at a minimum.

You see, I had based my choice on high school on the fact that CDHS had a varsity hockey program; a program that I was lucky enough to participate in the year before, while in grade 8. It was my dream to play varsity hockey and somehow get a university scholarship out of the experience (while I was no draft pick of the Toronto Maple Leafs, I could play some decent puck). However, due the circumstances (which I did not understand at the time, but definitely do now), the hockey program was cancelled and a couple of buddies and I were left standing there with our gloves dropped ready to scrap for some form of team sports. It just so happened that one of our Guidance Counsellors, Mr. Todd Girdwood, name-dropped the sport Rugby on us one day and that he played in an 'old boys' league just down the road in Peterborough. That was it. We were compelled to learn more about the sport, and eventually put Todd in a tough position to coach the team during the educational tension.

Our first season was rough. Just enough players to field a team, and hardly a substitute player for when we were gasping for air or mending torn/pulled muscles and the odd broken bone. In fact, we kind of knew that this would be the only season to showcase to the rest of the student body that we needed recruitments to continue a legacy. We convinced our pincipal to let us have two 'buy out' games during the season; a chance for students to pay $2.00 to get out of class and watch our home games during school hours. IT WAS AWESOME!! Our school did not disappoint. The entire student body was seated on the knoll that lined our athletics field pumping tunes (Dr. Dre & AC/DC), and cheering for team playing a sport that they knew nothing about. We were victorious once that season, but the program was started. I would go on to play four more seasons of rugby at CDHS as the co-captain and eventually we would compete with the city schools.

Fast forward a tenure at Trent University and couple of days on the occassional teachers list and I landed my first job at Listowel District Secondary School (I will always be grateful to Diane Homewood and Petra Goetz for taking a chance on a young lad with big ideas). I was approached immediately by a couple of 'die hard' rugby boys wishing to get a team up and going. It was "deja vu all over again". The nostalgia of remembering being those exact students pleading with a teacher to invest in them. I enthusiastically agreed to lead the charge, but only to fail this time around. We were able to bring enough students into the fold to have regular practices, however when the time came to send in our OFSSA roster, numbers dwindled. The next year I was more than determined, enough so that I bought a school hoodie with 'RUGBY' plastered on the front and 'Coach Lowe' on the back. Again, just enough numbers to practice and not enough to field a team. I just wanted my 'Todd Girdwood' moment.

My time at LDSS was over as new legislation passed, but I quickly found myself with a new assignment at St. Joseph Catholic High School, in Grande Prairie, Alberta. I was told that there was a 'stumbling' rugby program that over the past couple of years had difficulties gaining momentum. I took up the cause immediately running into the same problem; numbers. I campaigend the hallways recruiting rugby players until finally I had twenty. A 50/50 split of veterans and rookies. The best moment was watching the seniors celebrate the fact that they could play rugby in their final year of school, and perhaps a close second was ordering the uniforms.

Now that a season has come and gone, I can look back and reflect as a first time rugby coach. If we measured our season on victories, it would be a failed season. We were victorious once, but held our own in almost every game we played. If we measured our season on progress and learning the game of rugby, we were by far, champions. I always told myself that the cliche I just used was always the sentiments of a terrible sports club, or a coach that trying to hide his/her insecurities. But I truly believe it now. I mean trust me, I want to win as much as the next guy. I hurt when I lose. But there is a bigger picture here. You can't expect to go undefeated or be champions in a year when you barely fielded a roster. What you can expect though, is the grass roots of a new program that if built correctly has the potential to reach championship status. We currently have students asking if they can 'tryout' next season, grade eights currently interested a program that wouldn't have been a 'for sure' choice in seasons past, and the potential of a joint program with our elite football program.

Regardless of the future status of the St. Joe's rugby program, I had my 'Girdwood' moment. The moment to offer students the committment, dedication, and selflessness that Mr. Girdwood offered my friends and I fourteen years ago. This is the real reason I became a teacher.