Traditional team games have been the foundation stone of physical activity in independent schools since they began. In the modern parlance, they are "in the DNA". Schools would be unimaginable without them.
Their inevitability and omnipresence is not their justification. Under threat from a pacifist lobby, and without always enjoying the unquestioned support from previous generations, games might be under pressure. However, that does not mean that they will, or should, disappear - or be replaced by alternative activities (for which Zumba has become an unfortunate metaphor).
High performance will always be a defining feature of independent schools. Not least in sport. Aspiration, dedication, commitment, high quality (and quantity) of competition will always fire the imagination of pupils. They will be supported by some of the best coaches, facilities, infrastructure and competitive programmes. This will allow them to become the best that they can be in a culture which recognises and rewards high performance. Some will win trophies and selection honours, and a small number will go on to be elite sportsmen as adults. Every four years, the press will be surprised at the disproportionate representation of performers from the sector, as Olympic medallists and international players of team games. This has always been the case, is unlikely to change any time soon. It's is not just a question of money, it's a question of culture.
For others, of lower ability, or whose principal enthusiasms are nurtured in other areas of endeavour, their experience of team games will have different, though not lesser, value.
School leavers reflecting on their experience of games, universally cite "Playing with my friends" as their abiding positive memory. In a society of dominant self interest, and solitary, screen based work and recreation, socialisation is not just a vital life skill, but provides firm relationships forged in mutual endeavour. It always has done. That's why games have so many apostolic advocates, though also why its claims seem so shallow to its opponents (not least in the Department for Education) whose experience of compulsory games denied them these benefits.
There are many other potential values in team games. The development of "character" - the defining justification for muscular Christianity - has re-emerged, on the same cycle as flared trousers. The possibility of developing commitment, selflessness, courage and determination are positive outcomes of team games, that many achieve. They are not however, inevitable. The industry of sports education has yet to fully establish how these claims can be substantiated or quality controlled. That doesn't mean that they don't exist - just that they are not inevitable. Positioning sports experiences to maximise these impacts might be a more robust feature of school games coaching in the future.
Many pupils embark on a lifetime of loving sports. Some of them will be high performers, but not many. Others will be lifelong club members, officials, spectators, bar room experts and media consumers. In the same way that other aesthetic activities elevate the quality of life for their enthusiasts, sport can raise life above the mundane, and does so for much of society. Excitement, beauty, skill, unpredictability, sense of belonging, identification with a social unit are all valuable functions. They result, almost exclusively, from enthusiasms generated at school.
Most of these benefits of team games are universal, and available regardless of size, shape or physical ability. That is a justification for encouraging all pupils to take part, and for ensuring that the introductory experience (however long this is) is compulsory.
These benefits should not be confined to pupils in independent schools. Sadly, however, as in other areas, the sector provides its pupils with opportunities which maintained schools either do not value, or are unable to offer. This is regrettable, though maybe inevitable. Team games are one of those areas, despite government rhetoric.
I firmly believe in the place and values of team games. Few other areas of life have so much potential positive impact on so many people. That is why I spent 21 of the best years of my life trying to stimulate boys to become the best they could be. Principally through the medium of Rugby and Cricket. And why I continue to admire the energy, commitment and evangelical zeal of those who continue to do so in schools.
However, I don't think this works for all children. The stronger the culture in a school, and the higher quality the programme, the greater will be the percentage of pupils who remain engaged with games, at all ages. But that percentage will never be 100%. In most day schools, it will shift from being a majority of pupils at Year 7, to a minority at Year 13. That is inevitable. No schools make participation in team games compulsory throughout a pupil's school life. Any longer.
What schools have done well in recent years is to recognise this. And to add variety and health promoting activity to their programmes, in the hope of stimulating positive attitudes to exercise amongst those not, or no longer, involved in team games. This is undoubtedly a positive development, and is one that continues to evolve - alongside a growth of diverse facilities and activities to support these programmes.
These dimensions are not, in my view, mutually exclusive. A school can have a strong culture of traditional games, which impacts positively on a great majority of its pupils. This can be supported, celebrated and promoted as culturally significant in a school. It can have a vibrant programme of regular competition at all levels of ability. But it can also have considerable variety, and a strong culture of health and fitness. All pupils can have a positive experience of physical activity. And learn to love and value it. Variety doesn't have to be the shameful alternative, the dustbin for team games refugees. It can have a positive function. And it can live comfortably alongside the primacy of team games, without either undermining the other
That's what I think.
