The Roundup - Edition 68

A message from 
Rich Jones, Head.

I’ve been roughly the same size since I was about seven. The class photos — and those terrible whole-school panoramas from the 80s — were not kind to me. If you can imagine a clumsier, more youthful Hagrid or Chewbacca, you’re in the ballpark. I often had to bring ID to get the child fare on the bus, and finding black school trousers that didn’t resemble Bermuda shorts was near impossible. I didn’t mind too much to be honest, though my 5ft1 mother found telling me off increasingly difficult as I towered above her.

There was, however, one upside to my size: rugby. I took to it like an unsophisticated oaf happily wallowing in mud. My role was simple: get the ball, tuck it under one arm, and run straight into anyone in front of me. Job done. My second was to stop the opposition doing the same. Add in a few “dark arts” (it was the West Country in the 80s), and a willingness to put my head where others wouldn’t, and I was set. I played for school and club quite comfortably.

One day, my coach pulled me aside and said I needed to develop my game — improve my passing, read the lines, sharpen my technique. He warned me I wouldn’t always be the biggest, and others were catching up fast. I nodded. So, for three weeks, we did 1:1 skills sessions. At the end of the third week, after a tough session, he put his arm around me and said, “Actually, Rich — there’s no point. Just keep smashing into people.”

So I did. For the next 20 years. Hence the limp. And the gnarly fingers.

All this came back to me at our Sports Awards evening this week — in what’s been a brilliant stretch of sport at St Chris, with Junior and Senior Sports Days being particular highlights.

What stood out to me most was the spirit of it all. Our approach to sport is about participation, effort and team celebration. That we value endeavour and ownership just as much as skill and talent is significant. But the magic, I think, lies in the fact that we don’t do this instead of developing skill and ambition — we do both. At St Chris, they’re not mutually exclusive.

It all comes back to our values: inclusive, celebratory, and ambitious. A blend that allows people to grow — sometimes in directions they didn’t expect.

One of the speakers last night said she’d never rowed before university. At school she was a musician, not a “sporty” type. A friend invited her along to the rowing club. She said yes. That small three letter word led to a 20-year love affair with rowing — and three World Championship titles.

But here’s the thing: to say yes, we must first feel secure. Confidence and openness come when inclusion and ambition are built on a strong foundation of self-worth. That’s the culture we aim to build — and it’s what makes events like Sports Day and the Sports Awards feel so authentically “us”. We have always found value with width and breadth, not exclusively height. 

Like me with rugby in the Wild West, there’s room at St Chris for all shapes, abilities and interests — and long may that continue.

Although… I must say… I do question some of the ‘talent’ on display at the Junior School parent tug-of-war. 

Deary me.