Justin Langer: Living life through the pain and perfection of sport

Sport has always been my life.

It still is.

Juan Antonio Samaranch, who served as President of the International Olympic Committee from 1980–2001 said at the 1996 Olympic Opening Ceremony: “Sport is friendship, sport is health, sport is education, sport is life, sport brings the world together.”

If I was Juan Antonio’s speechwriter I may have added: “Sport brings triumph, sport breaks hearts, sport is passion, sport is tradition, sport is hope, sport is cruel, sport is character-building, sport is opportunity, sport is entertainment, sport is the greatest reality TV show on earth.”

This week I have had a snapshot of everything I love about sport.

And everything I don’t.

In just one week, I have felt the highs and lows, the joys and the pains.

In some cases, I have had skin in the game and felt the deep emotions that go with that, but in others, I have simply observed and empathised, because I know how those triumphant or deflated souls must be feeling.

Flying into London, for meetings as a member of the MCC World Cricket Committee, I have been privileged to have seen sport from many different angles this week.

The T20 World Cup, won by India, was going on while I was in the air, as were rugby union Test matches, and soccer (football’s) Euro 2024. The British Grand Prix was on, as was Wimbledon and the Lord’s Test match hosting England and the West Indies.

In all cases there were those who won, and those who lost. None though were losers, as they are often portrayed.

Among the on-field dramas, Adam Simpson’s time at the West Coast Eagles came to an end.

His exit was the personification of pure class. There is nothing good about seeing a much-loved and respected figure walking away from a team he equally loves but, all good things eventually do come to an end.

As he has done from the day he joined the club, Simmo showed authentic humility and respect. He will be the first to say, in his pragmatic way, that his time is up, but I hope he is remembered for all the good he has done, not for how it has ended.

Head coaching is a taxing role. It is tough, and not for the faint-hearted. It can also be fickle.

Hard as recent times have been for Simpson, and for so many who have walked in similar shoes, he will reflect on a job well done as a premiership coach and a person who has influenced the lives of many fine young men.

He will hold his head high knowing he has had the courage to have a crack, and to do the job tirelessly to the best of his ability.

So much must go right for a team or coach to be labelled a success, or not.

Last Sunday night in the Euros, England were playing their final qualifying match and were down 0-1 with 87 seconds to go. In this football-obsessed country, I was intrigued by the criticism by commentators and fans alike.

Frankly, it was brutal.

England manager Gareth Southgate was being pilloried for everything he was doing wrong. In 87 seconds, it seemed certain he would be sacked as England manager, along with a few others in his camp.

But then, as if by a miracle, superstar striker Jude Bellingham scissor kicked a goal to send his team into the quarter-finals. Bellingham’s extraordinary athleticism sent the house I was staying at into a frenzy. The whole country celebrated joyously.

For a while anyway, the manager had the wolves backtracking into the forest.

Within a week, England won their quarter-final, and semi, and now play in the final on Sunday.

Just 87 seconds and things could have been so different. There is such a fine line between success and failure in sport. This I have learned bitterly, and happily. You can be a villain one minute, and a hero the next.

The wolves will be back, Southgate and every manager, coach and player knows this. But that is the price you pay for playing in the big league.

Much as the wolves can annoy me, most who have experienced the adrenaline of being in the fight or being on the big stage will tell you that the annoyance and hurt from a critic is minuscule compared to that momentary feeling of success.

Just ask Lamine Yamal, the 16-year-old who netted a stunning goal in Spain’s European Championship semi-final 2-1 victory over France on Tuesday. The youngest player to score at the European Championship, he will never forget that moment; nor will the billions of people who witnessed his calm majesty.

Lamine Yamal, Gareth Southgate, Jude Bellingham and Adam Simpson weren’t the only ones to remind me of how much I love the ups and downs of sport this week.

From boardrooms and TV screens, I was then reminded of the joy of live sport, as a spectator, by spending two days at two of the world’s iconic sporting venues.

Wimbledon is not just an event; it is a living, breathing entity that captures the hearts and imaginations of millions around the globe.

Having watched Wimbledon all my life there was a sense of reverence as I stepped through the wrought iron gates of the All-England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club.

The meticulously manicured lawns, exorbitantly priced strawberries and cream, and the spirits of past champions seemed to whisper in the breeze. Pat Cash in 1987 inspired me, as did the early clashes of John McEnroe, Bjorn Borg and Jimmy Connors.

Triumphs and defeats were etched into the hallowed turf; I was pinching myself just being there with my daughter Gracie. I couldn’t help but go back in time while remaining absorbed in the moment.

While the competition was intense, the magic of Wimbledon for me lies in the traditions that have been upheld for centuries. In a world where it seems people will put two fingers up to anything they please, the order and discipline of the ball boys and girls, the politeness of the umpires and the all-white clothing were refreshing to watch.

Along with the traditions, we were mesmerized by the athleticism of the players, the impossible shots, the raw emotions, and the fierce battles we were privileged to witness.

My favourite was Jasmine Paolini, the Italian pocket rocket who is in the final on Saturday night. Her power and energy were invigorating.

She is a star who I will never forget watching. An Italian version of our Australian favourite Ash Barty, she constantly pumped her fist to her camp, reminding me that you can’t do it alone in sport. No one can, even in individual pursuits like tennis.

Finishing off the week I walked into the Lord’s Cricket Ground, often referred to as the ‘Home of Cricket’. Although I had been there for three days of meetings earlier in the week, day one of the Test was something special.

Stepping through the iconic Grace Gates a sense of awe washes over me every time I’m there. The historic pavilion stands tall and proud, the honours boards and the Long Room bear witness to the legendary feats of cricketing heroes past and present.

On this occasion, James Anderson the 42-year-old superstar fast bowler walked onto the carpet-like turf for the last time in England colours.

Crowd roaring, he is proof that it is not just the exciting young kids who bring the fans to life. In a brilliant career he will be missed, but we quickly learned that life would go on.

On debut, a young English fast bowler, Gus Atkinson, stole the show with seven wickets. The day was supposed to be about the retiring Anderson, and yet another teammate grabbed the spotlight as if to say, ‘thank you for your time, I will take it from here’.

Sport, as does life, has a way of doing this.

As England and the West Indies went about their business I sat and chatted with my idols Sir Vivian Richards, Gordon Greenidge, Brian Lara and Courtney Walsh. What I have learned is that your heroes rarely let you down. They inspired me on the field, they still make me happy off it with their stories and our shared respect and affection for each other.

Inscribed above the doors, where the players enter the arena in the Wimbledon changing rooms, is Rudyard Kipling’s quote:

“If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster,

And treat those two impostors just the same.”

This is often easier said than done, but sport has the ability to throw up moments of triumph and perceived disaster, that will always test us as fans, players, coaches, administrators, broadcasters or any stakeholder involved.

Winning is more fun than losing, but I feel blessed to have lived my life in sport, and I am certain I am a better person for that, despite the highs and lows, triumphs and despairs that go with it.

Watching West Coast play at Optus Stadium on Sunday will top it all off. What a week as I reflect from the plane on my way home.