Games were a blast – masters not past it

It is a 5.36am and the breaking sun promises another beautiful God blessed Saturday.

The rattle in the kitchen belongs to my eldest son is jamming breakfast down his throat before driving off to a place many like me call ‘hallowed turf’.

In tandem his 14-year-old brother Jordan is showering while dancing to the beat of a gibberish rap song that makes little or no sense to someone of my vintage.

The birth date on my driver’s license suggests a little extra snooze time but unfortunately Jordan is a few years shy of his, meaning the ‘old man’ is required for chauffeuring duties.

It is quality time to be cherished.

The three of us share a passion for sport, more particularly golf and despite my numbers getting larger, the greens getting smaller and the wins becoming distant memories I enjoy every breath I spend with my children.

Sport has kept this great nation smiling for decades, enjoyed the world over and celebrated by all, irrespective of wallet size, age, gender, colour or creed.

Over the past two weeks Sydney and its satellite cities have played host to the Masters Games, an event that received international recognition with the number of competitors nearing 30,000.

It was as much about the experience as it was about winning a medal.

Unfortunately last Saturday a columnist for a major metropolitan paper described the Masters Games as ‘an absolute joke’, penning an article suggesting anyone with a grey hair on their head should visit the funeral parlour, put a deposit on a comfortable casket and wait for Father Time to call stumps.

Her name is irrelavent.

To suggest people should not be allowed to represent their country because of age or ability is just dumb, and the demeaning quip that the Masters Games should not have been held on ‘hallowed turf’ such as the Olympic Stadium, dumber.

Thank goodness the journo in question was not in charge of Saturday’s Caulfield Cup otherwise legendary trainer Bart Cummings would have been prevented from watching Viewed and Roman Emperor adding another paragraph to Bart’s already impressive CV.

Those responsible for bringing the World Masters to Sydney should be rightfully chuffed with their efforts.

The media coverage was excellent with the much-needed injection of tourist dollars into the State’s coffers being a bonus.

It was a winner.

People of all ages were given the opportunity to enjoy a personal sporting passion and live out a dream on the ‘big stage’.

Who cares if the 70-year-old woman in purple Lycra couldn’t pole-vault half her own height?

Who cares if the 100-year-old woman shot putter got more coverage than an Olympic gold medallist?

And who cares that an old bloke got front-page coverage in the steeplechase event?

We care, that’s who.

The last time I checked we get one crack at this game called ‘life’ and to those who competed in the Masters Games we should stand, applaud and heed their message – live life to the full.

God willing I’ll be making the sandwiches and cleaning the golf clubs this Friday night in preparation for the third round of the Club Championships, hopeful of a much improved performance.

I will enjoy every sentence from my sons and every smile as we individually hit our little white balls around our ‘hallowed turf’ for the better part of five hours.

In my opinion sport is, and always will be, for everyone to embrace, irrespective of ability or age.

Anyone who thinks otherwise is a sad person indeed.

Have a great weekend.