Describe an item you were incredibly attached to as a youth. What became of it?
I still have it.
It’s tucked away in a box now. In some ways, I’m still attached to it. Logic says there’s no reason to hold onto it, but it’s not the item itself—it’s the memories it carries. It’s the way it triggers snapshots of my youth, moments spent in anticipation and excitement.
I spent hours with this item. It came with me everywhere. It was always in my bag, ready for the next opportunity. Whenever I had a chance, I’d pull it out and add to it.
Some people I knew even contributed to it, leaving their mark on its pages. I’ll admit, a few entries were made up—copied from somewhere else just to fill the gaps. But most of it was real, collected during hours of waiting, sometimes long into the night.
These entries weren’t just ink on paper. They were people—heroes of mine. People I admired and tried to imitate as I practiced their craft. They weren’t just my heroes, either. They were legends for so many others, drawing crowds of thousands who came to watch them do what they did best.
I’d stand around the boundary, waiting. Outside the changing rooms, I’d wait. I’d write letters with pre-stamped, self-addressed envelopes, hoping for a response. I was determined to get another entry—an autograph I didn’t yet have.
This item, if you haven’t guessed by now, was my autograph book. A small, colourful book filled with the signatures of sporting heroes. Cricket captains, Australian players, touring sides—anyone who took to the pitch to play.
Whether it was a Test match or a one-day game, I’d wait after play had finished, hoping to catch a glimpse of the players as they headed to their cars. And if I was lucky, I’d get their signature.
It’s more than just a book. It’s a collection of memories, a connection to the joy of my youth. And now, as I pull it out to show my kids or take it to a game we’re going to, I’m instilling in them the same excitement and appreciation for heroes, patience, and the moments that stay with you forever.
When I think about that autograph book, I’m reminded of how much time and effort I put into collecting those signatures. It’s a small picture of the kind of dedication and patience we’re called to in our faith.
Hebrews 12:1-2 (CSB) says,
“Let us run with endurance the race that lies before us, keeping our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.”
Just as I stood waiting for hours to catch a glimpse of my heroes, we’re called to fix our eyes on Jesus, who is infinitely greater. The effort, time, and love we pour into following Him shape who we are, just as those hours around the boundary shaped my childhood.




Professional wrestling seemed to peak in the late 90s, while I was finishing up high school. I remember nicking off from school to go watch Main Event: WrestleMania at a mate’s house, hoping to get a glimpse of Sting come down from the rafters and scare the hell out of everyone in the ring. Ah, fun times.