There is nothing quite like the feeling of getting on the plane by yourself, sitting there for 30 hours, knowing that you are about to land in a country where you know no one, don’t speak the language, and have no idea what to expect.
After the long journey I was picked up in Amsterdam Airport by a few team mates, Daan, Pep and Pat. Jumped in their car and we were off. So strange. To think these were my team mates, I was the “Kiwi” who was supposed to be half decent and help the team win. We arrived at the accommodation, Pat also lived there and another team mate Joe. Joe played hockey for Portugal, Pat played for Brazil at Rio Olympics. I was the only “non-international” in the house, which though my hockey travels I have now found to be a reoccurring theme. Pretty jet-lagged I passed out at around 5pm that afternoon.
My second day in the Netherlands the club had a big dinner fundraiser for the Heren and Dames 1, the men’s and women's first teams at the club. 70 odd guests, a big yearly fundraiser. They said I didn’t have to join, but I was pretty keen to meet everyone and help out where I could. I met the Technical Director Frank, Coaches Pancho and Alex, team mates and everyone at the club. During the evening each team had a few players designated to each table as “waiters”. Of course they stitched up the new guy and stuck him at the important table. The chairman, ex chairman, club secretary, all the big dogs. Thankfully the team was also in charge of the bar, meaning beers were on the house, which helped calm the nerves. I also found out that night that an Aussie Miki was joining the women’s team, and and Argentine Martin was joining the men. So the club would be full of other “internationals” in the same boat which was nice to hear.
That night the MC read out the team list of the players, but they forgot my name. I didn’t think much of it, having only just arrived. Unfortunately the chairman next to me did, he made a fuss and said “eh, what about our kiwi here”. The MC then told me to stand up, and proceeded to introduce me in Dutch to everyone. All 70 people then erupted into an applause, and I’m just there thinking “no pressure eh man, better score a goal or two…”That night ended with both teams heading out for the night, and being the second night there with zero sense of direction, I needed some help to find my way back home. Thankfully Zwolle isn’t the biggest of towns, and so 5 minutes later on the bike arrived back at the apartment.
One week following we were in Valencia. Yup. Spain. It’s quite common for European teams to go to Spain for preseason, as it’s a bit warmer there, easier to train, and great for team building. It was great for me being new to get to know the team, play and train a bit, but unfortunately my archilies tendon started giving me grief. Coach didn’t want to risk anything so sat me out for majority of the games in Valencia. Looking back now I think that was simply from doing too much after a lot of travel. Your feet swell up on long flights, I trained too much before my body had any time to adapt, a lesson learnt for future travels.
It was only a niggle so thankfully I was fine by the time the season started. I thought the team was good, good basic skills, moved the ball well, just lapsed in patches and in my opinion didn’t run much. New Zealand hockey is very raw, get the ball score a goal kind of stuff. Not much skill on the way there. Zwolle were much more skilled and had so much more flare, but simply didn’t run. There were times where we played brilliant hockey, but there were times when the team just lapsed and went through bad periods of play. A strength I was told I bought to this team was pressing. They said they had never seen anyone chase the ball around so much. Maybe I wasn’t so good at keeping it to one side in those days… The coach gave me freedom to have a go which I really liked, and I found the dutchies at that level a little indecisive, so tried to create as much turnover and perceived pressure as I could on defence.
We trained well, and were competing in games, just fell on the wrong side a few times. A 3-3 draw with HBS looked like the season was turning around nicely. This was followed with a 2-2 draw against Breda, which was a crazy game. Early on our captain sent a specky crash ball into the D, I got a nice touch and it went in. My first goal overseas at home, a big crowd all cheering, we’re up 2-0, come on boys. They bring it back to 2-1, there is 40 second left on the clock and they have a PC to tie it up. Clearly a stick save on the line (as later confirmed by video), however the umpire down at halfway was adamant it was off the body, another PC awarded. Breda score. The game finished 2-2. Boys were gutted. We played well but couldn’t close out the game.
The next game we were playing against Schaerweijde, a top of the table team who were always pushing their case for the hoofdklasse (top league). That evening I was due to fly home for university graduation, and fly back to Holland a few days after. Little did I know there were other plans in store. I remember the club having music pumping in the warmup and a turf which is dug into the ground, so spectators have a great view from the clubhouse. 5 minutes into the game our captain has the ball on the right side, around our attacking 23. He pulls the ball onto his backhand, sends a crash ball aimed at me, roughly knee high. I go to deflect from my forehand through the ball, but was early on it, so the ball slammed into the back of my right hand. The umpire blows dangerous ball, my hand starts to hurt but I shake it off. No one really saw much. The coached asked if I was ok from the side line, I said I was fine. A minute later I receive a ball in play and I couldn’t feel my hand. Oh dear. Something is not right. I ran off, my hand was very swollen. The other team’s doctor took one look and said “yup it’s broken”. I didn’t believe him. At half time another doctor came to take a look, moves my pinky finger a little and a super sharp pain went through my hand. “Yup it’s broken”. I was still in disbelief. Pat was injured and not playing at the time, so with one of the parents we went straight to get an x-ray. I had a 30 hour flight home that evening so needed to know how bad it was. 8 fracture lines in the bone, goodbye to the Dutch season, 6-8 weeks minimum. I was gutted, broke down as I felt like everything I had worked towards was just gone. Added to that I was getting on a plane in the evening, not said goodbye to anyone, left the Under 14 girls I was coaching stranded, and potentially was never coming back. Season gone, with one hit of a hockey ball.
30 hours on a plane is not fun, but when your dominant hand is broken and in a cast, and you’ve just left the best two months of your life behind, it’s a pretty long journey. The team had 4 important players get injured that season and were double relegated in playdowns to the Eestre Klasse, the 4th league due to a restructure in the Dutch competitions. They lost in shootouts during the final playoff game, for Zwolle, it was simply a tough year.
I really enjoyed my time there, enjoyed the coaching staff, the team, the club and the lifestyle. I must thank Frank Geers (the technical director of the club at the time) for all the effort he put into getting me there and looking after me. His coaching style and hockey knowledge was and is how I aspire to coach.
Zwolle asked me to come back to play the following season in the fourth league. And although the quality of hockey was not going to be great, I knew everything else was awesome, so I said yes to re-joining for the beginning of the 2018/19 season. Back in Zwolle, this time round I was lucky enough to bring a kiwi friend, Ben, with me, how good! Two of us enjoying the hockey life in the Netherlands. Ben enjoyed it so much, he is still there to this day. First game of the Eestre Klasse we played Kromhouters, a random club with a dodgy field and rocks for balls. No Kookas in the fourth league… We lost the first game. A big shock. Thankfully we won pretty much every game from there onwards, and the team promoted back to the “new” overgangsklasse where they still are today.
My working holiday visa expired halfway through the season, and unfortunately the club couldn’t find a way to get a new visa. I only had half a season with that team, but technically as the boys tell me it still counts as an Eestre Klasse champion. I do think that the Zwolle team from the first time around, had it still been together, could well be competing at a promotieklasse level. Unfortunately players leave for various reasons and coaching staff change, maybe one day it would be nice to get that dream team of 2017/18 back together, and see how far the team could go. It was one of my favourite teams I have ever played in.
During the end of 2018, I was contacted by a club in Perth, Australia, to play there in 2019. The club happened to be the home of Jamie Dwyer, Eddie Ockenden and Tyler Lovell. With the working visa application falling through, it seemed like fate was calling me over to Australia.
Comments ()