That Spring Day in October – A Tribute

Hamish, Prasant and Simon – Debut Day

Sixteen something years ago, in 1999 sometime, one of the most important days of my life till that point was unfolding: It was the Hatch Cup Final, the National provincial hockey championship for Under 13’s in New Zealand. My brother was playing, and so was his team. I felt so proud and excited. In that moment, I remember it being the most important thing in the world.

The late Stu Ramage was at the helm that year; he would go on to be one of the most successful Hatch Cup coaches of all time, my dad was the manager and as a pairing, they were more motivational than Al Pacino at his very best.  It had been a great run to the finals. Auckland hadn’t dropped a game and would have been favourites going into the final.  That spring day in October, Auckland was to play Canterbury to win it all. North Harbour Hockey stadium was abuzz with 14 other teams of vanquished players and supporters, in full tracksuits (a status symbol at the time) there to watch the best two teams do battle.

Both teams were packed full of stars. In fact, three players on the field that day would go on to play senior men’s hockey for New Zealand.  One of them would go on to play 240 games for New Zealand to become one of the most capped men’s players in history. Midway through the second half, the game was locked at 0-0 with both teams having opportunities to score. Jonny Plat was in goal for Auckland and, despite his career never going much beyond Hatch Cup, in that moment, on that day he played the game of his life. A Canterbury foot in the circle earned Auckland a penalty corner.  A straight shot from the top of the circle found another Canterbury foot, giving Auckland a second chance.

As a kid growing up playing hockey, you always loved practicing penalty corners and you always loved dreaming up new and imaginative plays to trick the other team. Stu Ramage and Rob Baron were basically kids themselves, so in the biggest game of their coaching lives, you see them yelling from the sidelines “TAMAKI, TAMAKI”. You could almost see the glimmer in their eyes as the ball rolls out with pinpoint accuracy, but it’s not to the top of the circle, it’s to the close man on the right.  Canterbury hasn’t seen it before, but instinct tells them they must go towards the ball. The ball is push passed back to the puller who rockets another pass out to the top castle. Like clockwork, the ball is trapped and pushed back inside the circle. Only mere inches over the line it is whacked into the bottom left corner, between the goalie’s feet and the outside of the goal. It would remain 1-0 that spring day. The only goal scorer that day was Prasant Nathoo.

The boys and their supporters partied well into the night at Tony’s Trambarn on Manukau Road, sipping back on the raspberry lemonades; they were only 12 after all. A bond was formed that day with all the team, and at the centre of that was Pras Nathoo, the bloke from the North Shore, son of BP Station owners, quite a shy well-mannered bloke with a fiery side and a cheeky grin.  A very unlikely hero, that spring day in October.

Time passes you by, life catches hold, and the years slip away. The team went their separate ways, but Pras would always make time for the boys. He was there in 2005, proudly watching as Hamish and Simon debuted for the New Zealand Blacksticks.  He was there at 18ths and 21sts and probably most in-between.  He remained intensely loyal to those that were loyal to him. As choices go, Pras would make some bad ones, as we all do, but he liked doing things to the extreme. He really loved my mum and dad, and would call them often to chat and catch up. Mum would listen and advise, while dad would often deliver the hard truths, the same way he always had, even back when Pras was 12, that spring day in October.

It is with such sadness that I write about the circumstances in which Pras was brought back to front of mind today. I was setting up a meeting at work and received a phone call from my brother, a tremor in his voice, to tell me the news. I am so thankful, though, for this chance to reminisce and remember those amazing times, those absolutely formative times and that spring day in October.