Growing with Gratitude

CHAPTER 1Why Growing with Gratitude?

I grew up in a sports-mad family. We had a table-tennis table set up in our parachute-lined-ceiling shed in Happy Valley, a southern suburb of Adelaide, and I loved to play with my mum Bev, dad Mark and sister Toni. We'd have a hit and then crouch around our little TV to watch sport: usually footy, cricket or basketball.

One time, I remember our family was a little nervous in the lead-up to the semifinals of the women's basketball at the Olympics in Seoul, South Korea. Australia was about to play Yugoslavia. A win would see Australia play off for a gold medal for the very first time. The reason for the butterflies was because my aunty, Pat Mickan, was playing in the game. I was only nine at the time but I understood the significance of the match and knew what it meant to my Aunty Pat, as well as all of us.

It was one of the all-time greatest Olympic basketball matches. With only seconds to go on the clock, Australia was up by one point: on the verge of making history and advancing to the gold-medal game. However, Yugoslavia had possession. With seconds to go, a Yugoslavian player threw up a shot from near the baseline. It was like slow motion watching that ball travel through the air. And damn, that ball went through the net. Australia heartbreakingly went down by a solitary point. I recall being totally devasted and in tears for Aunty Pat.

Growing up in this kind of environment, a love of sport eventually transferred over to me. I was obsessed ...