Nick Karnel Williams

What was once important is no longer as important.

I’m sitting at my son’s training, watching him go through his drills. He’s moved up from 4s to 2s and jumped two grades this year. When he made the team just a couple of weeks ago, he was excited. He’s a decent player, but league—or footy, as they call it here—isn’t as important to me as it was to many of us growing up, dreaming of playing for the All Blacks.

As a parent, that dream of my kids playing sports at a high level doesn’t appeal to me the way it once might have. Life has shown me that not everything lasts forever.

Back in 2003, I played rugby union for Gisborne Boys’ High First XV. The truth? I hated the game. Not because I wasn’t good, but because I wasn’t a contact guy—or rather, I wasn’t an “injury guy,” and injuries happened too often. If I’m being completely honest, I only played to impress girls. That was the mindset of a young teen. My real love was basketball. MJ and Kobe—those were my guys. I grew up in the ‘90s, watching games on Channel 2 at my Nana’s house on Sundays at noon. I loved the sport, but I was too short, too heavy, and nowhere near skilled enough to take it further.

Sports can lead to great careers, no doubt. I admire what some athletes have done after their playing days, but for many, we have no idea what happens next. Some go broke. Some struggle. Who knows?

For my kids, my biggest goal isn’t for them to become sports stars—it’s for them to grow into kind, good human beings. To follow whatever dream they choose. To plan, execute, and be consistent. I want them to fail early so they can learn the lessons that bring gratitude and success earlier in life.