I’ve never been a great sleeper – I always put it down to my time in the Navy where the watch keeping system means that you are always going to bed and getting up at odd times. The idea of the day for working and the night for sleeping is just not possible when you are at sea and on operations. The same is true of course for many other jobs and professions where people work shifts. But I am finding it especially difficult to sleep at the moment – I wake frequently and rise early. Like so many people I think I am a bit anxious, a bit confused by the current uncertainties, and a bit worried by what it all means. I worry about my wife who is a doctor and in the front-line of so much of what is happening. I worry about the impact of the pandemic for all of those who are already vulnerable and struggling, and for those who will be losing their jobs not knowing how they will feed their families and pay their rents and mortgages. I worry about the future of our sport and am deeply conscious about how threatening this terrible virus is to the health and well-being of so many of you, and the responsibility I share for ensuring we only return to play when it is safe to do so.
With so much of this buzzing around my head I was up early again this morning, walking the cliffs with Lily my cocker spaniel. As we neared home and descended into my village my attention was drawn to the war memorial which sits looking out to sea and remembers those of the village who were killed in the First and Second World Wars. It got me thinking about the many crises that humankind has experienced. Most of us have seen films, read books and war poetry which depicts the horror of the trench warfare of WWI – coincidently it was 104 years ago today that the heaviest loss of life for a single day occurred during the Battle of the Somme, when the British Army experienced 57,470 casualties. The true horror of the war was only really exposed to the nation when thousands of injured and maimed soldiers returned to their homes, villages and towns. Quick on the heels of WWI came the Great Depression which lasted ten years, only to be followed by WWII which again saw the death and injury of thousands of service men, women and innocent civilians, followed by the despair of homelessness, hunger, and unemployment.
As I thought about this I also thought about how resilient the majority of individuals are. It often takes time, and it usually takes the support and will of our colleagues, friends and our families, but ultimately we bounce back from adversity to come through the blackness of tough times and regain a sense of perspective, purpose and positivity. Over the years I have been fortunate to work alongside so many of you who have come through life changing experiences stronger and more determined than ever to live life to the full. To be a small part of your lives has enriched my own and has made me more determined to do all I can to help build the wheelchair rugby communities where members can enjoy our sport and one another. Like those world changing events above, COVID-19 and its effect on our lives will be with us for a long time to come but we can and will deal with that. The Board and staff are very much in this positive mode. Our immediate focus is how we can help you to get back to playing the game as safely and as quickly as possible. But we are also looking to the future, thinking about how we create more and even better experiences for everyone who wants to be part of our sport and community.
We will come through these anxious times, there will be a vaccine, there will be new jobs and new opportunities, and there will be positives from this experience as more people think consciously about what is truly important in their lives and realise that as human beings we are all connected and that all lives matter.
David Pond, Chief Executive
