England away in Athens
2002 World Cup Qualifier
I have vague memories of people talking about Maradona’s hand of god in 86. I remember exactly where I was when Germany beat England on penalties in 1990, although I think I was too young to really be absorbed and affected by it. My earliest memory of being truly gripped by sport was the Barcelona Olympics in 92.
With England bombing out of Euro 92 short of winning a single game 1 month earlier, Team GB’s heroics in Barcelona were even more prevalent for me.
Roger Black, Sally Gunnell, Kris Akabusi, Steve Backley, Redgrave & Pinsent, even Chris Boardman. They all had me gripped that summer and it felt like it was us against the world. But most of all it was Linford Christie winning the biggest event of the games, the 100 meters, the fastest man in the world. I was so inspired by his win I even named my pet hamster after him.
London 2012 Olympics
watching Bolt win the 200m
What really capture’s my imagination is a great sporting story and The Olympics has that in spate’s. With the athletes being mainly amateurs the stories were often relatable, inspiring and sometimes heart wrenching. Every four years when the Olympics come around I know I’ll be shedding a secret tear when a single Dad from Solihull appears from nowhere to pinch a badminton bronze.
After that sporting summer of 1992 I was hooked and throughout the nineties I watched EVERYTHING! Every football match, rugby game, darts, snooker, tennis, golf, cricket. Anything with a winner and a loser had me engrossed. I watched so much sport in the nineties that I once answered every single question correctly on an episode of Question of Sport!
This love for sport really paved a way to bond with my Dad and brother and I think this is very common for people who struggling to express themselves emotionally. All of a sudden we could direct our emotions into a shared interest. We could talk for hours debating tactics, who was the best player, should that have been a penalty?!
We can see this across sport grounds the world over. For some it is the only time a father hugs his child. We see grown men cry who have never shed a tear. For those who cannot find the words now have a shared voice, a passion, a community.
Often my Dad would take my brother and I out to walk the dog on a Saturday afternoon. In between finding conkers and pine cones we would debate what the match results would be when we got in. My Dad would wager us a fiver on Charlton winning and United losing, knowing he would rarely win.
Playing youth football
with my Dad as manager
We would sit and watch the Grand Prix together on a Sunday. It was nice when Nigel Mansell or Damon Hill won, but the time sat with my Dad was the real draw.
He had a friend with debentures at Twickenham, and would go to all the England games, making sure he always brought me back a programme which I would read front to back.
He took us to Wembley for the first time. Wycombe Wanderers v Kidderminster Harriers in the FA Trophy Final! Wycombe won 2-1 and we would be back 3 years later to face Preston in the play-off final. Wycombe won 4-2 but my main memory is a Preston fan spitting at us outside the ground. My Dad had something to say about that!
He was no stranger to football ground having been a regular at The Valley in his youth. Turning up to the ground on his moped in the sixties. But he was much more into rugby in his later life with much of our conversations about the goings on at The Exeter Chiefs.
My brother and I got quite into watching (and playing) darts and snooker for a stage. They were always on quite late at night so I was desperate for a TV in my room to continue watching in bed. When I finally got one a would always fall asleep with sport on the telly. Snooker and golf being the best to drift off to.
Our relationship has always been a sporting one, either playing or watching. There was always great excitement and anticipation of watching Match of The Day when you don’t know the scores. Although one of the worst things I’ve ever done to my brother was to stick all the scores to the TV when he had been out as a teenager making sure no one told him the results. I hid upstairs listening to him shouting as he went to turn the TV on.
When we were at school Fantasy Football brought a whole new level of addiction for us. My brother hosted a full scale draft at ours one season, with a strongly fought bidding war by two Leeds fans over Tony Yeboah. His league is still going strong now and even has a second division!
Throughout my teenage years the sport I played the most of was rugby. Although I was a much bigger football fan than rugby fan I absolutely loved playing the game and still have a great affinity for it. I really enjoyed the physicality of the game and how rewarding it could be. It is probably the sport I see the most effect that teamwork has on performance. I was lucky enough to play in a couple of very good teams and when you get a good thing going you really do feel invincible out there. I made many good friends playing but when I started university it was actually the social side that turned me away from it.
My university days had more emphasis on football than actually getting a degree. If I wasn’t playing football I was playing FIFA/Pro Evo or ‘Champ Man’ (Championship Manager) or going to watch games across the North West.
We regularly went to Everton games at Goodison but in my time up north I went to Anfield, Old Trafford, Main Road, Turf Moor, The Reebok, The JJB, Ewood Park, Oakwell, Deepdale, Prenton Park, Elland Road, Villa Park and even ventured to see Cup Finals at The Millennium Stadium and Wembley. Football had taken over and apart from socialising there wasn’t much else I really cared about.
And then there was golf. I had only played once or twice when I was younger but in my early twenties I started playing a bit with some friends who were keen golfers. I had always watched a lot of golf so I knew the game well, but actually swinging a club was another thing. Regardless of the amount of tops, thins and air shots, all you need is that one clean strike, that pure hit, watching the ball flying through the air towards the flag and you are hooked. If you can hit it that good once, why couldn’t you do it every time?!
First ever golf trip – Sweden
I had no money and no qualifications after I dropped out of university and had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, but I knew I wanted to play more golf. So I did the sensible thing and got a job behind the bar in my local golf club. Free golf and a job, perfect. I ended up working pretty much every position in the club from bar manager to general manager and everything in between, completely falling in love with golf along the way. I spent a vastly disproportionate amount of time talking about, organising and working in golf than actually playing but that didn’t matter. I could spend an infinite amount of time talking about golf without even lifting a club.
I ended up working in a few other golf clubs but eventually left with the driving force to start my own thing. I didn’t have that golden idea but I knew I wanted to do something in sport. I started quite a few business that failed fairly rapidly but Stirling Experiences, my sports hospitality company, served me well for a few years. I reluctantly chose to close it in 2015 after my primary venue, Silverstone, changed their offering to re-sellers leaving me in an untenable situation.
I flirted with a golf events business more recently but have reached a point where I just need start doing. Doing something I am truly passionate about so I can find a happiness in what I do. It is for that reason that I am writing this.
I have decided to start creating sports content. Content about sports history, interesting stories, amazing stats and anything else that takes my fancy. I have dabbled a bit over the years but it’s time to get serious. Articles/blog, podcasts, videos, photos, I’ll be attempting to get my teeth into everything.
I don’t have a niche or an end game, I don’t know where it will lead me but I’m hoping it brings me happiness and gives others some value and enjoyment on the way.
Dan Smith Sport 