Original to be found here: http://www.bluebirdnews.co.uk/sophie-clarke-week-1/
Last week, I lost my voice. If you no longer had ‘loud’ as one of three words to describe me I think you’d be struggling, so this was a bit of an issue, especially with 5 more training sessions to run.
I ended up mute because my team had two matches two nights in a row on our training camp in Edinburgh. I was in goal because that is a captain’s sacrifice when your normal goalie is not present and others would rather contract smallpox than end up between the sticks. Being in goal offered the unusual advantage that I was no longer too out of breath from playing to shout at people properly – so shout I did, encouraging on the ladies of Cambridge’s water polo team.
Sport grabs us because it makes us passionate about it – about watching, about playing, about becoming part of it. In this case I was so involved I shouted myself hoarse trying to get the team to play better, to score more goals, to put up a fight and ultimately to at least try and win (even though that aim, when playing against teams with several national players, was always a pipe dream).
I’ve always been caught up in the dramas of our play – I’ve always been one of the more easily heard members of the team, right from the start of my water polo career – but increasingly I find myself ever more tied up with the team’s fortunes, which is not least because this year I am the captain. I thought, before I took up the mantle, that I knew what it would be to lead, having been a senior member of the team (read: old, been around for ages) for a while, and having been close friends with several CUSWPC captains over the years.
However I have found that to captain is to invest in each player not just for this game but for the next; not just this season but those to come. When mistakes are made, as they always are, I see the potential and hard work behind the decision and the unfortunate turn of events which swings it in some unforeseen direction. I worry about all my players, think deeply about team lists when previously I would have dashed off my preferred thirteen without hesitation, and look to build a strong base for next season even as it means shelving dreams of repeating last year’s success. These may seem like obvious lessons but I feel like I’ve always been caught up in obsessing about my own performance and contribution to the team in the past to worry about anyone else’s.
I’m not sure I’m a particularly good captain – I’ve been told I’m too harsh, too caught up in wanting to win – and I’m constantly seeking feedback from my team so I can improve, or at least pass on some tips to my successor. Yet I feel like the ultimate judgement of my captaincy is if in five years, at least a few of the girls who turned up in October having never even tried water polo before are still training, still playing, still competing. I never found a sport I loved until I came to Cambridge – and even then, it took me until my third year to find water polo. To love a sport and dedicate your time to it is to let loose your passion – and sometimes the only way to do that is to sit in goal, and shout, and shout, and shout.
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