Rugby Coach Rhod Gilbert's Work Experience

I'm Rhod Gilbert - stand-up comedian.

People tell me I've got the toughest job in town

but I'm sure I'd find other things far more difficult.

So I'm ditching my regular job

and trying something completely different.

This is my Work Experience.

This programme contains strong language

And this week, I'm a Rugby Coach.

I've been told to come down to

the Welsh Rugby Union's

National Centre of Excellence,

which is ironic because I played rugby for 15 years

and didn't score a single point.

I had the worst record since Shaddup You Face

but if there was a rugby coach hiding inside me,

they'd bend me over and scrummage it out of me right here.

This is the classroom.

I think my first challenge is getting as far as the class.

The reason I was so bad at rugby

was that I didn't have a clue what was going on.

I didn't understand the game at all

and somehow, for 15 years, nobody noticed.

But I think, the National Centre of Excellence, they might just spot it.

Hi, Rhod, welcome.

My name is Jon Evans and welcome to WRU Coaching Children's Rugby Award.

-Children.

-Afraid so, sir.

You could fit everything I know about rugby on

Martin Johnson's johnson, but at least I'd only be coaching kids.

What do you see coaching as?

I see coaching as partnering with individuals in a thought-provoking

and creative process that inspires them to maximise

their personal and professional potential.

I don't know about you guys, that's just my...

THEY LAUGH ..that's my personal take on it,

-Jon, that is.

-Glad we're on the same page.

So, Rhod, I see coaching as partnering with individuals...

By a strange coincidence,

my ideas on coaching kids matched the Welsh Rugby Union's

word for word.

But as the day went on, it was clear I had a lot to learn.

These are the attributes that you need to have to be a good coach.

You have to be a leader,

you have to be organised and you have to motivate your players.

You have to be more of a role model, enable them to be decision-makers...

In that case, Jon, me and my team are up shit creek...

..and most of all, be able to develop their skills.

..sans paddle.

Role model, leader - I was going to have to be a cross between

Warren Gatland and Nelson Mandela.

Warren Mandelson.

I'm supposed to be a role model

cos they're going to be watching everything and learning from me

and I have to be motivating and positive and...

That's not going to come naturally.

Things didn't improve when Jon stuck me on his gimp lead.

His techniques were a cross between bondage and Crufts

but he also had some handy tools

to help with my personal creative thingy.

The Welsh Rugby Union have come up with an acronym

and what we call it is APES, OK, so whenever we deliver a session,

it's got to be Active, Purposeful, Enjoyable, Safe.

So it's a nice, easy acronym for us to be remember, OK - APES.

And it rolls off the tongue.

I'd find it easier if it was Purposeful, Enjoyable, Active, Safe.

PEAS is easier than APES, isn't it?

THEY LAUGH

Peas roll off the tongue far better than an ape would.

THEY LAUGH

I was doing badly on the theory

and I already knew I was crap at the practical side

but in the kids' tag game, there's no tackling

and with no fear of being snapped in two like a runt Twiglet,

I was flying.

My team started winning until Jon brought me down with a bump.

I noticed you were keeping score.

Is it important that we actually find a winner?

Well,

I would say yes but I can tell by your face that the answer

is no, it's not that important.

It's not important, is it, because it's all about the taking part.

I know it's a very old cliche

but as long as the kids are having fun, that is the winner

as far as we're concerned because it's enjoying that game of rugby.

Bollocks.

-What can you say?

-Oh, well, ping my jockstrap.

I'd scored the first points of my career and had a bloody row for it.

But for the first time in my life, I was a bona fide point scorer

and no way was Jon going to piss on my parade.

But moments later, Jon pissed on my parade.

He wanted to test my coaching skills and drop kick me

right in the deep end with the elite Welsh women's national squad.

Rhod now is going to deliver a session to you

and looking at the As and Ds and looking at lateral pass, OK?

I'm going to hand you over to Rhod.

Great, good work, everyone.

THEY LAUGH

Er...

So, erm, passing, yeah?

It's cool, isn't it?

With an elite team,

my fledgling confidence was quickly booted into touch.

This was a different ballgame.

Well, it was the same ballgame, but at a very different level.

Like Noel Edmonds standing on a shagpile carpet,

I was totally out of my depth.

Good work.

It is very difficult to be authoritative

when you don't know what's going on.

I've got to just try and look commanding.

Just get warmed up, let's just get it running through the line, across.

Nice and... Stay deep.

Thankfully, they knew exactly what they were doing

cos I was flailing around like a cow trying to get in a dingy,

until I inadvertently stumbled on a foolproof strategy.

Good work.

That's it.

Good work. That's it.

That's all you have to do - shout, "Good work, that's it." Watch this.

Good work. That's it. Good work.

I knew nothing

but by shouting random positive stuff, nobody was noticing,

so I started mowing them down like Clive Woodward

with a pump action compliment gun.

Incredible.

Fantastic.

Oh, simply wonderful. Five stars.

A thrilling must-see.

Good work. That's it.

Good work.

I think that went really well.

You're supposed to pull us all in and talk about the drill -

-what went right and what went wrong.

-OK. Everyone in, then.

HE BLOWS HIS WHISTLE AND PLAYERS GROAN

Good drill, everyone.

-Yeah?

-Yeah.

What can we improve on?

Erm...

Just the running and passing and stuff.

Scrum pox. I'd been rumbled.

I was to coaching elite rugby what disposable paper underpants are

to high diving.

But I did get a few more tips.

You just need to coach a bit more rather than shouting out

random words, so things like, you know, hands up and follow through.

Be a bit more specific.

I left the girls following through.

The day had been a mixed bag but I'd completed the course

and Jon gave me a coaching placement.

What we've got for you next planned, then, is you're going to go down to

Whitland and you're going to coach the Under 8s down there.

What lessons are you going to take down to Whitland?

It's about the taking part, we've got to build their skills

and it's not about the winning at all...

It'd be nice, though, wouldn't it?

It'd be nice to come home with that trophy.

What trophy?

I'll bring a trophy.

A few days later, I winged it down to Whitland in Carmarthenshire.

I had been exposed at elite level

but I was still sure I'd know more than a bunch of toddlers.

Before I got stuck in, club chairman Jason Bowen met me

in the middle of a field to give me the lowdown.

In about two weeks' time, we have a Festival of Rugby here in Whitland.

-Festival.

-A festival, yeah.

This was the area's biggest kids rugby event,

an annual non-competitive brat-fest with hundreds of mini rugby scrotes

rocking up to have fun, but definitely not win.

This year, Whitland were hosts

and Jason would be fly-tipping his Under 8s into my care tonight.

My plan tonight is to try to get them listening to me

and try and start running through some of these moves

and trying to advance them in their personal

and professional potential in thought-provoking, creative ways.

I knew nothing about under 8s.

To me, they're mints you have early in the evening.

And I hadn't had any time to do any coaching plans

but I was sure I could show these rusk-munchers a thing or two.

I'd be taking over from their beloved coach, Simon,

and with a few weeks until the festival, I was feeling good.

-I'm your new coach. Hello. KIDS:

-Hello.

Hello. Hello.

Where should I stand, here?

-Erm, there.

-Here, is it?

-No, forward.

-Forward?

-A bit forward, there?

-There.

-Right, OK, now, what do I do?

-Pass the ball to us?

-Do I tell you what to do?

-What's your name?

-Sophie.

-Sophie.

With Sophie's help, I was off to a cracking start.

Time to partner with individuals...

SPEAKS VERY FAST: ..in a thought-provoking and creative process

that would inspire them to maximise their personal and professional potential.

Who wants a game of Rats And Rabbits?

I was winging it and they loved this game we'd never heard of.

As their role model and leader,

it was time to knock this ropey regiment of rodents into shape.

-Rats And Rabbits, it says...

-Can you explain it, please?

Yes, I'm going to explain it, Sophie,

if you'd just give me a second.

..for Rats And Rabbits.

We don't understand the game!

I'm trying to explain it, if you'd all just shut up.

You're boring and you can't explain anything.

I'm trying to explain it! I can't explain it when you're all...

Oh, God.

Jock rot. Eight minutes in and it was carnage.

I was already regretting not planning things out in advance.

I think I'm lacking a bit of gravitas.

Sophie has just taken control.

This is what happens in societies.

This is like Lord Of The Flies.

-I've got an idea.

-What?

-A different game.

-A different game.

Rugby know-it-all Sophie was a pint-sized punnet of precociousness.

Her superior coaching skills were making me look a right flanker.

Everybody else will run, they have to tag them

and then once they get to the other side,

if someone's tagged the other person,

then they are with the other person.

-What?

-If you don't get it, ask Simon.

Give me a cheer if you understand this game, Bulldogs?

THE KIDS CHEER

Carry on, then.

13 minutes into my career as a coach,

I'd been relegated to assistant coach by a seven-year-old.

Tell us when to go.

On your marks...

..get set...

Just say go!

-I'm not...

-Just please, say go, OK?

Go!

Sophie may have been wearing shorts

but she was clearly wearing the trousers.

In the absence of any plan,

I resorted to my shouting-positive-stuff technique

while she did the coaching.

-Good work. That's it.

-It's not supposed to be with the ball.

-Good wo... Oh, isn't it?

-No.

-Oh.

Come on, you should know this, guys.

There is no ball in Bulldogs, is there?

-Do you think I'm doing a good job?

-No.

-Why not?

Cos you don't know anything.

You don't know even what Bulldogs is

-and everybody knows what Bulldogs is.

-Watch this.

Let's have the ball, then, please.

My initial confidence gone,

my head was spinning like a rat on a ceiling fan

and moving on to tag rugby, Genghis Sophie was losing patience.

-Now, we need to play the game properly.

-I'm trying to.

-But they won't play the game properly.

-I know they won't.

So you need to get them to play the game properly.

-Just shout at them.

-Shout at them.

Right, that's it. I'm doing it.

Why won't you play this game?

I had less authority than a retired lollipop man, and

Whitland's answer to Bart Simpson - Richard - was taking full advantage.

You just kicked me in the leg.

If somebody kicks me in the shin really hard, deliberately,

-I will put you on a yellow card.

-What's the red card for?

-If it's like that...

-No, even if it's like that, Richard.

But I'm glad you're interested in the technicalities

of how hard you kick me.

RICHARD SHOUTS

Even in my kit, I was no more a coach

than Chris Tarrant in a wheelbarrow is Boadicea.

What does that even mean?

It means you are sent off forever. Got to go on a red, Richard.

Apart from them throwing grass directly at my face,

kicking me really hard in the shins and tremendous insubordination

from Sophie, apart from that, it's going quite well.

My gangly gaggle of cheeky shitsters had me by the driving mauls

and Genghis Sophie was the first to mention the elephant on the pitch.

It's... You're not like Simon. Simon...

IN A MOCKING VOICE: Oh, Simon. Where's Simon? I want Simon.

Simon is the bestest coach in the world.

-No, he's not. ALL:

-Yes, he is!

-No, he's not. ALL:

-Yes, he is!

No, he's not...

Simon was their hero.

So much sun shone out of his arse,

you could grow tomatoes in his underpants.

So pooh-poohing him didn't go down well.

You are not anything like a good coach.

Guys, put your hands up if you think he is being a good coach.

THE KIDS SHOUT

We want Simon back. We want Simon back.

THE KIDS CHANT "SIMON!" AND RHOD LAUGHS

THEY CONTINUE TO CHANT "SIMON!"

# Nobody knows

# The trouble I've seen... #

Rip his stuff up!

-Rip it all up!

-Yes, I know, you're going to rip it all up.

# Nobody knows my sorrow... #

I know why you're rubbish, cos you haven't teached us a lot today

-cos you're dumb.

-THE KIDS LAUGH

You're not a coach.

# Glory hallelujah. #

I think you know when your coaching days are over, when your pupils have

ripped your teaching materials to shreds in your face.

-Rhod?

-Yes?

You can be a good coach, you just have to prove it.

-Can I, Sophie?

-Yes.

Do you believe in me?

Yes.

-Thanks, Sophie.

-Get them playing rugby properly.

It's not just this silly game...

..cos it is a bit annoying.

We need to play stuff like tag.

Do you think I will be ever as good as your coach, Simon?

No-one is ever going to be better than him.

-Really?

-But you might be the second best if you try harder.

-OK.

My empty coaching plans lay in shreds,

Sophie's coaching skills had exposed all my failings.

I wasn't even fit to rub suntan oil on Simon's bottom.

How was I going to lead this team to anything?

St Simon was more popular than Father Christmas.

If I had any chance of replacing him, I had to do something drastic.

My rescue plan involved a local fun park

and some industrial-scale bribery.

I think I've got some serious bridges to build

and today, it's going to be about team-building,

just getting them to like me.

Slowcoach.

I'll finally show them fun.

Sophie was no taller than a grilled tomato

but threw her weight around like a full cooked breakfast.

To coach this team, I had to get her to accept me as leader.

We are going to take things up a gear now, Sophie.

I'm the coach, you're my assistant coach.

It's very important that you trust me and you listen every word I say

so to make things a bit more interesting, you are going to drive

now blindfolded, so you won't be able to see anything

and you have to listen to my voice and take my instruction, OK?

Put it on, put that on now.

-Right.

-Yeah.

Hang on a second, Kai, this is a very tense moment.

You stand back now, Kai, this could go horribly wrong.

If I say, left, go left, go right, right?

-Say, "Yes, coach."

-Yes, coach.

Right, OK, let's set off, then.

That's it, good.

Left, left, left, left. Hard as you can, left.

You're going left, that's it. No, you are going le... Oh, you're going left.

Turn right a bit. Oh!

It's not easy, this, is it?

My plan to force Sophie into second-in-command

was the best idea since Noah took poo bags on his Ark.

After this, she'd look up to me like a god.

Do you have more confidence in me now as coach?

No.

SHE SIGHS

Good work.

Oh, my aching scrum cap.

Now, my rescue plan needed rescuing.

I'd driven Sophie - or at least navigated her - to a nervous breakdown.

I had to have her backing, so I let her get revenge.

That's it, good work.

I have let them absolutely soak me right through to my pants.

If they don't think I'm the best coach in the world after this,

I give up.

It was a pathetic attempt to get Sophie back on side

and Bart Simpson, sorry, Richard, was keen to know if it had worked.

Good work.

Does Sophie like you now?

Yeah, she likes me now, we're friends now.

-Do you like me now, Richard?

-I hate you.

-You hate me? OK.

Still a bit of work to do there.

Apart from Bart Richardson's open hatred, my plan was working well,

and I even started sneaking in some rugby coaching.

Rugby is a contact sport, guys.

Take the knocks and once you're down, you've got to get up quickly.

-Come on, Sophie.

-It won't go.

-It won't go.

Come on, Rhod, what are you doing?

I think it is just my body weight and gravity.

Good work. That's it.

As I cunningly wormed my way into their affections with more

and more fun, it wasn't long before even the Bartman cracked.

Do you like me now, Rich?

-Yeah.

-Good boy.

Progress.

By the end of the day, it felt like mission accomplished.

The sun may not have shone out of my arse like Simon's,

but at least my butthole wasn't raining any more.

-Hands in the middle.

-I can't reach.

-Who had a good time? ALL:

-Me!

Do you think we can work together now and I can be your coach?

-ALL:

-Yeah.

Do you think we've become a team today?

-ALL:

-Yeah.

Do you think we can go on and have fun in the festival?

THEY CHEER

-Give me a C. ALL:

-C!

-Give me an O. ALL:

-O!

-Give me an A. ALL:

-A!

-Give me a C. ALL:

-C!

-Give me an H. ALL:

-H!

What have we got?

-Coach!

-THEY ALL SHOUT "COACH!"

At last, they had called me the C word and my bum clouds were

clearing, but would our diminutive dictator finally accept me as coach?

So, the other day was pretty bad,

everybody chased me off the pitch, ripped up my coaching notes.

You said if I tried really hard, I could make it as a coach.

-Do you think I have done it?

-Yeah.

-Are we going to work as a team now?

-Yes.

Are you just saying yes to all my questions

-cos you want to go home?

-No.

I think you are. Give me a fist pump.

Right, off you go. I'll see you Friday.

We've come a long way. I think I've won their trust a bit

and Friday's training session will be a lot different to last time.

With the tournament... Sorry, Fun Festival, almost upon us,

this was my last chance to whip them into shape.

This time I'd done my coaching homework

and planned an evening as tightly packed as Adam Jones' hairnet.

I'm pumped, I'm psyched

and I am determined that this one goes better than the last one.

Today I've got a plan.

P-E-A-S. Keeping peas in my mind.

Everything I learned on my initial coaching course.

P for purposeful. E, that will make it more enjoyable.

A - active, keep them more active. Get them playing.

If I get that right -

P, E, A, right... S - safe, it will be a safe environment

for me.

Like a man who has tried piercing his eyebrow with a harpoon,

I wasn't going to make the same mistake twice.

This time, I really was going to inspire the shit out of them

in a thought-provoking and creative process - and give 'em stickers.

Much better. First-rate. Hot.

Not sure about that.

It's not about shouting random words from the sidelines,

it's about sticking random stickers on kids.

Early bird Freddie was the first to witness the new, well-prepared

Coachus Maxi-fun.

Next one. That's it. Good work, Freddie. OK.

It's a different story now this week, isn't it?

-Does it feel different to you this week, Freddie?

-Yeah.

-Good.

Good work, that's it.

Another one out that way. A bit bigger pitch this week.

He's practically a performing seal now.

That doesn't look quite straight there, Freddie. See at the end,

you got a little kink in it.

OK, if you could sort that out.

Good lad.

That's it, that one, yeah.

OK, that's it, now move it slightly that way.

Slightly that way.

No, not you... With the cone.

No, no, Freddie. Stop.

Back the other way. Stop. There.

Slightly forward.

That's it. A bit... No, no, no, no.

Brilliant sticker, shake hands. Good lad. OK.

Simon would take Bart Richardson and the uber-tots

while I'd prepare Sophie and the older kids for the grudge tournament.

Sorry, Fun Festival.

-Under 8s on that pitch, please...

-Under 8s with me.

-7s stay here with me, so Richard...

-Under 8s with me, then.

I'm going to try and teach them some ball skills

that will be useful. All good, close-quarters, handling skills.

Once you've passed the ball,

I want you going round on all fours as your favourite animal.

-What are you going to go as, Freddie?

-A ferret.

Freddie is going to go as a ferret.

Go for it. On all fours.

Polecat, please. Hey... Ferret, ferret, ferret.

He's off, he's a monkey.

The monkey's going, the monkey's going.

I was a different me, keeping them P, E, A and S.

I still wasn't a bum-shine coach like Simon

but at least they were responding.

Let's come in, then. Let's get a sticker, let's get a sticker.

-It's good work. Who wants "Stellar Student"?

-Me, me, me.

-OK, who wants "Cool"? ALL:

-Me!

Cool. Freddie gets "Cool".

-ALL:

-# I don't care what I've been told

# Cos Whitland kids are good as gold

# Whitland kids are good as gold. #

Pick somebody early, George, and stick with them, like glue.

That's good, Freddie, good running. Go on, George. Go.

Good, good, Sophia. Good, that's good, Freddie.

I've got loads of authority, they are listening to me,

I've got real gravitas, I'm much more focused tonight.

I had to choke back the tears.

Just a week earlier, I had been physically abused,

the worst coach they had ever had.

Now, I was pretty sure I was the best.

Come on, who thinks I'm a good coach?

To be honest with you, in the middle.

In the middle.

-In the middle.

-Who thinks he's in the middle?

-Me.

In the middle?

OK, so maybe I'd never need sunglasses to wipe my own bottom

like St Simon, but I was improving all the time.

And secretly, I started to think there was a chance

we could win this rugby bloodbath...

I mean, have fun at this festival.

THEY CHANT: # I don't care what I've been told

# Whitland kids are good as gold

# Win or lose, we never fold

# Cos Whitland kids are good as gold. #

-That was just me singing that, it was embarrassing.

-Yeah.

Once you've got a sticker, you can go and I'll see you all Sunday, OK?

-You lost one.

-I get two.

-You get two, OK. Go on, just help yourself.

I don't care what I've been told

Whitland kids are good as gold.

Lovely jubbly.

-Bye.

-Bye-bye. You rest up.

No late nights, OK? No partying.

That was a lot better

and they may say I'm only middling but I'm making progress

and I reckon I did a great job,

so roll on Sunday.

The big day.

These empty fields would soon be infested with kids

from across south-west Wales.

I hadn't been this nervous since I invited David Cameron

to a hog roast.

This was my final chance to prepare my team to knock

seven shades of shit out of their rivals...

I mean, get them ready for a fun day, whatever the outcome.

I think now, finally, they accept me as their coach

and I think we will all pull together today,

now we are finally here at the championship...festival.

Festival.

I've just got to try really hard to remind myself of that.

It's not about the winning, it's the taking part.

It's not about the winning, it's the taking part.

As rival teams arrived, I eavesdropped on the other coaches,

who no doubt were taking a totally non-competitive, fun-based approach.

What I'm saying is, when you've got the ball,

don't run toward your try line!

Just concentrate and be ready, boys, any time, any time.

Up on your feet, up on your feet.

-Are we going to win? KIDS:

-Maybe.

-Are we going to win? KIDS:

-Maybe.

-Does it matter? KIDS:

-Not really.

-Does it matter? KIDS:

-Not really.

-What's important? KIDS:

-Having fun and taking part.

-What's important? KIDS:

-Having fun and taking part.

The other teams looked awesome

and sensing our pitiful posse of pretenders was in trouble,

even Bart Richardson turned up to lend his support.

You are on the coaching team, OK, so I want you looking, thinking,

eyes up, ears open, see what the team needs.

-I'm going to help Simon.

-You're going to help Simon, good boy.

Shake hands, then. Good luck today.

Thanks, Richard, that means a lot.

We've had our difficulties but today, we are a team, aren't we?

Good boy.

Now on the coaching staff, Bart Richardson brought his own

thought-provoking and inspiring ideas.

-I want you guys acting like a team...

-And farting everywhere.

Richard. Not farting everywhere.

THE KIDS LAUGH AND RICHARD MAKES A FARTING NOISE

All I want to say...

Once Richard's stopped farting... All I want to say is...

-Can we just play now?

-Yeah, the problem is, everyone's making

farting noises, it's really hard for me to get my point across.

And if somebody else has got the ball on your team,

you're going with them, supporting them, OK?

-Who wants to lick my foot?

-I don't want to lick your foot.

But it's a nice offer, thanks.

We're about to go on. We're playing St David's first. Are we psyched up?

-ALL:

-Yes!

-Are we ready to have fun? ALL:

-Yeah!

-And take part? ALL:

-Yeah!

And if we win, so be it.

Who's having the Man of the Match medal?

Well, we don't know yet, Sophie,

we don't arrange these things in advance. This isn't Qatar.

Our first game under way, good time or not,

I soon realised we were taking a stuffing.

Still, nobody was counting and we had more games to come

so I plied my plucky heroes with encouragement.

Good, Cian. Good, Cian.

Pass it, pass, pass.

Good talking. Good talking.

Really good support play, guys. Really good.

I think it's going OK.

I feel like their coach. They feel like my team.

I think everyone is having a really good time.

I could be wrong.

Next game, we're smashed 25-5 but nobody is keeping score,

least of all me.

Sophie and I are working well together,

even if we disagree on team nutrition.

When it's fizzy, it's got sugar in.

-No, that's not true.

-And it's fizzy.

Fizzy is a carbonation process. It puts bubbles in it.

It's totally different, totally independent of sugar content.

-You know that.

-It's actually got sugar in it.

Why are you drinking it, then?

Because I like sugar.

Yeah, it's bad for your teeth.

It is bad for your teeth.

Every time I go to the dentist, he says there's nothing wrong.

Oh, well, just keep slamming the sugar in, is it?

Every time I go to the doctor, he tells me I haven't got a broken leg.

Go and get a hammer, we'll hit it, shall we?

Somehow, we were achieving the impossible - the more we played,

the less we scored.

But I was beginning to understand the non-competitive philosophy.

I'm starting to see the benefit of this not-about-the-winning bit

cos thankfully it's not about the winning

cos we've lost all our games.

But we've all had fun, we've all taken part.

Just, we haven't had as much fun or taken part

as much as the other teams.

We've got to smash these last ones.

Our final match, and I couldn't help myself any longer.

This fun business was all very well but we had to win one bloody game.

Now, more than ever, I need you to be quiet. All ears, no mouth.

Look at that team over there. Look at those Blues.

They look semi-professional.

How good do they look?

-Rubbish.

-Rubbish? That is the attitude.

That is the attitude, cos to me, they look amazing.

These guys look organised, they are disciplined, look at them,

they are standing there ready like machines. They're going to be good.

These guys could murder us. OK? Right?

-They're not going to cos I'll just beat them up.

-OK.

I need you to step up a gear. We need to take it up a gear.

-We need to beat them up.

-This is our last game,

let's play out of our skins and show them what Whitland can do, yeah?

It didn't matter at all, but it all came down to this.

-Are you firing on all cylinders?

-Yes.

-Good boy.

Let's get in line. Come on, look at them.

Chase it, chase it.

Good boy.

That is good work, Sophie.

Good work, Freddie. Good work. Go on. Go on!

Our final opponents were a macabre exercise in robotic perfection.

Their young eyes bent on destruction.

They were smashing the Phil Bennett out of us.

WHISTLE BLOWS Good try. Unlucky, Whitland.

They're semi-professional, these guys,

probably half of them are paid, these players.

The rival robo-tots slaughtered us

but you know what? My lot didn't care.

They were too busy doing their best, playing a game they loved

and supporting each other.

Let's look for the gaps, guys, look for the gaps.

And with just seconds remaining, my little team's hard work paid off.

Not that it mattered.

Good work. Go on, George, go on, George.

Go on, George. Go on, George!

WHISTLE BLOWS

Great play. Great play, Whitland.

Well done, Whitland, good work.

The final whistle should have come as a relief

but we were having a ball and I'd never been prouder

of my little band of merry mischief makers.

I'd learnt a valuable lesson about getting kids interested in sport

and the importance of preparation.

And they'd learned loads about life, friendship, authority, etc, etc.

Oh, and maybe even something about rugby.

Three cheers for luck, Whitland.

-Hip, hip... ALL:

-Hooray!

-Hip, hip... ALL:

-Hooray!

-Well done, George. Great try there. Did you enjoy that?

-Yeah.

-Did it feel good?

-Yeah.

-You had fun?

-Yeah.

-Good boy.

-Who is Man of the Match?

-Eh?

-Who's Man of the Match?

If it means that much to you, Soph, you can be Man of the Match.

-Yay.

-But does it mean that much really?

It does. OK.

There's only so much you can do,

Well done. Congratulations, Man of the Match.

-Where's my medal?

-I haven't got any medals.

I didn't know you were going to invent Man of the Match at the start of the day.

You should have brought your own medal. You've arranged all this.

THE KIDS CHANT "SIMON"

SOME KIDS CHANT "GILBERT"

There's one. There's one Gilbert.

There's a Gilbert. One Gilbert.

Two Gilberts. Three Gilberts.

-Gilbert!

-Good boy, Cian!

A confused report there at the end. I can't begrudge it too much.

Simon has put in the hard yards, he's got them this far, really.

Don't get me wrong, it would be nice if they were all chanting

my name now, it'd be great, but it is not about the winning, is it?

Thankfully, again, it's about the taking part.