Wally had never coached netball before, but he agreed to coach my mother and her team, Manutahi. Every Saturday, they played at the Browns Rd Netball Courts.

I, as a young boy, loved to watch them play. I learned to pass, shoot, and dodge, just like the players of Manutahi.

Although I couldn't play in their team, Wally trained me too. He believed that everyone should have a chance to shine, no matter what.

Manutahi practiced hard. Their spirit was strong. Wally had them move in ways that dazzled everyone watching.

With Wally's strategy, they climbed to the top. Soon, they were not just a team, but a squad of netball champions.

Saturday was the big game. Excitement buzzed in the air. Wally's yellow folder was packed with plays and data.

The whistle blew, and the game began. Wally watched, silent and focused, tracking every move of Manutahi.

Pass after pass, goal after goal, Manutahi played with heart. Wally's coaching could be seen in every swift action.

The final quarter came. The score was close. You could see the determination in Wally's eyes, and it spread to every player.

With a last push, Manutahi secured victory. The crowd roared, and Wally, the silent strategist, finally cheered.

Wally proved that with dedication, even a beginner coach could lead a team to excellence.

And I, watching from the sidelines, learned more than netball. I learned that bravery and passion can take you far.