I suspect I spend more time than most questioning my life decisions. And there has been no shortage of that over the past two weeks.
welve days ago, the alarm buzzed at 2.45am. It was the least I could do for the county final – plus sleeping in my Dunboyne jersey the night before to ease myself into my bleary-eyed laptop set-up.
I knew when I left Meath that I was sacrificing these special days. I knew the diary conflicts were inevitable.
You can think about them all you like, but until they arrive, it’s difficult to know how you will react.
It was the first final I’ve missed with Dunboyne since I was about 15, and it was so bizarre to be live-streaming the action direct from a field in Ratoath straight to a screen on my Melbourne couch in the middle of the night.
My desire for St Peter’s to prevail was two-pronged. I wanted to see my friends and family – my sister Sarah was playing her first final in a couple of years after a cruciate injury – enjoy success, but I also knew if they came up short, I’d be facing a tidal wave of guilt.
When I decided to chase this professional sporting dream on the other side of the world, I had to weigh up what I would miss and the effect it may have on those I left behind.
However slim my hopes are of playing county football next season, I won’t be putting on the club jersey again – except as a committed critic/supporter – while I’m in the AFLW.
So, you can imagine how elated and relieved I was after their three-point win against Dunshaughlin. The only remaining emotional battle I had to conquer was calming my nerves so I could get back to sleep.
My team-mates were kind enough to keep me in the loop with their celebrations, live-streaming via FaceTime their late-night exploits through a couple of Dublin pubs before finishing up in Coppers.
Last Sunday, for the opening round of the Leinster title defence against Kilmacud Crokes, was a different occasion altogether.
Not only was I forced to spend the guts of two hours painfully refreshing a Twitter feed since there was no live stream, but Dunboyne were well beaten by a strong outfit from the capital.
Maybe it was for the best that I couldn’t see it.
It’s only natural you ask yourself whether you could have made a difference.
You feel helpless, guilty, sorry you weren’t there.
I was deflated for the girls; they had been on such a great run. But when the pain settles, the rest will do them no harm – many of them have been on the road a long time, with club and county.
The last couple of weeks, missing such occasions with the club, have been the biggest test yet of how much I really want to be here in Australia.
I absolutely love it some days. But there are other times when the pull of home hits you deep in the stomach.
I need to be wary of ‘the grass is always greener’ syndrome, too; I get myself frazzled from the mental toing and froing.
Close
Sarah Rowe of the Magpies celebrates during the 2022 S7 AFLW Round 07 match between the Collingwood Magpies and the GWS Giants. Photos via Getty Images)
Thankfully, writing helps to keep me calm; there are notepads all over the place in my apartment here, heavy with my scribbled thoughts.
Seeing things on paper helps me to simplify life’s conundrums.
I’m a full-time professional athlete, but I’m being paid to play a sport I don’t yet love.
There are people and a game I adore at home, but it doesn’t give me the chance to be a full-time footballer.
It’s not easy.
But the bottom line is: I know this a great opportunity, and as long as I’m enjoying it – which I am – I will keep at it.
Knockout football is the dominant theme here, too, with two rounds left in the season before the top eight break out for the finals series.
We are currently seventh, so it feels like we are already in finals mode, especially with our last two games coming against Collingwood (3rd) and Richmond (6th).
You get used to playing against your inter-county friends with the club at home, but it’s slightly different this weekend as I will be going up against two members of my Australian family, Sarah Rowe and Ruby Schleicher.
We’re a dysfunctional bunch. You need quick wit and a thick skin to survive in our tribe, but deep down, we care about each other really.
When you’re so far away from your actual loved ones, your friends become your family and I’ve spent as much of my free time with my two Collingwood pals as I have anyone else.
There has been no shortage of sledging this week, but once we run out at Victoria Park on Saturday (from 3.10am Irish time), we will all be doing our damnedest to get the win and the bragging rights at the dinner table.
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