The curtain on the off seasons worst kept secret has finally been lifted. My time as a Wigan Warrior has come to an end. Not only for me but for the Yorkshire pudding himself, Micheal Mcllorum. Suggestions say the only reason I left Super League was so I didn’t have to run at him. It makes sense and I’ll add it to my list of pros for leaving.
However as glamourless as it is, the real reason for me leaving the Cherry & Whites was bascially to be closer to family. I returned to preseason for 2018 ready to roll up my sleeves and go out with a bang. I have always been one to follow my gut instinct and unfortunately it didn’t feel right being back in the WN6.
My girlfriend and I had kept in touch via. long distance during the 2017 campaign. Another year of facetime and text messaging seemed like a mountain to climb and I was willing to try. But when i received news that she was seriously injured in a car accident it quickly put things in perspective. We feel comfortable to share pictures of the damage now that she has made a near full recovery and is almost back to her beautiful self.
The question now is where to from here. I do enjoy writing so ill keep a blog to share my epiphanies. As far as playing glorious game and my late attempts to join the New Zealand Warriors, it looks as though there is no room at the Inn. I have looked into Rugby Union later in the year and even the prospect of heading to university full time. Wherever I end up I know one thing is certain. I’ll never be finished with Rugby League. The game, the togetherness, the humor, the people.
There’s a unique and dirty culture that goes with the game. RL fans are often far too honest, they don’t entertain the hype or ‘bullshit’, everyone’s either a wanker or a fat bastard. Our games superstars are put under microscopes, chopped down and dragged through the grit along with referees, coaches and officials, nobody is safe. Meanwhile the same working class spirit responsible for the industrial revolution shines through as clubs scrape and scrounge to stay afloat against the currents of Premier League ratings and tv schedules. Constantly tried and tested, kicked and spat on. Yet from the ashes of its struggles stands a majestic and brutal sport worthy of the Colosseum itself.
Thank you for giving me the opportunity to be myself and hopefully set an example for others to do the same.
“S’in a bit.”