Stories

We took our basketball seriously in the year of 1950. It was not mere sport for sports sake in those days but each game was fought with the determination and zeal of any modern day All Black side. We had to, Sister Placidus was our coach and a real Fred Allen she was.

A hard taskmaster who demanded the best of each one of us but we were only too willing to give all we had.

Each play time was a training session – fifteen minutes of fast concentrated ball handling.

Games like running in and out were set to the clock to increase speed and efficiency and each goalie was set the task of at least a hundred goals each day. When Sister returned from lunch the real coaching began as we practised on the grass courts alongside the school. It was not long before these became mud but enthusiasm was far from dampened and we moved to an improvised court in front of the school. Sister used speed as her main method of attack together with a series of cleverly thought out ‘moves’. With certain signals from the centre each player knew where to run and with such surprise tactics we outwitted opponents much bigger and more experienced than ourselves.

Success was piled upon success until the real test came – the day of the Franklin Primary Schools Tournament. Our captain was Colleen McCort and she presented us each with a green ribbon with the gold lettering Pukekohe Convent printed on. Mr McCort had kindly donated them. How proudly we wore them that day. Each game was won till we reached the final against Te Kohanga and a real life death struggle it turned out to be. Sister was there on the side line and with her words of encouragement and no doubt many quick Hail Mary’s we won. This was indeed our finest hour.

Tribute to Sister Hugh

Sister Hugh was the music teacher while I was at Sacred Heart. Sister was a brilliant pianist and also a singing teacher of equal competence. Her only draw back was that she never had a Mina Foley or a Kiri TeKanawa as a pupil for she could have risen to such heights.

Sister taught our choir in the little music room down the driveway across from the grotto and in spite of very little natural talent we learnt to sing excerpts from opera, ‘Panis Angelicus,’ ‘Ave Maria,’ and the great hymn, ‘Jerusalem’. We even learnt to read and sing Gregorian chant.

Most of all I remember Sister Hugh for teaching us the Irish National anthem and it was not the political-correct version now heard on the rugby fields but the rebel rousing ‘Soldiers are we whose lives are pledged to Ireland’. I do not remember ever singing the New Zealand National Anthem. Her love of music was infectious and in spite of ourselves we learnt to sing above our ability and learnt to appreciate music.

Memories of school days.

Sister Placidus coaching basketball on a grass court in front of the school. We won the Primary Schools Championship that year.

Learning by heart the questions and answers to the Little Blue Catechism.

Practising marching behind the St Joseph banner on hot February days in preparation for athletic sports at the park.

Taking flowers in May for the procession around the grotto of Our Lady at the Convent.

Shouting out in rote all our times tables every morning for Sister Alacoque.

Cramming our basketball team into my father’s Chevrolet car to play against Buckland School. The Sisters never watched our games.

Polishing the wooden floors of the classrooms at the end of term.