Since 1997, Iāve had one dream in lawn bowls that has eluded me: winning a State or National Singles Championship. Iāve come close - third in the Victorian Champion of Champions in 2008, Victorian Country Masters winner in 2008, runner-up in the Victorian Master Singles in 2014. Each time, I got close enough to taste it, but not quite close enough to hold the trophy.
Now, nearly three decades into this journey, Iām setting a new goal: Win the New Zealand Singles Championship. And this time, Iām approaching it differently.
Dreams are free. Anyone can dream about winning championships, representing their country, achieving greatness. Iāve had those dreams since I first picked up a bowl.
But goals? Goals require something entirely different. They require:
The difference between dreamers and achievers isnāt talent or luck. Itās the willingness to turn the dream into a concrete goal and do the work required to achieve it.
When I was a Victorian Representative and in the Australian Reserve Squad, I trained differently. It wasnāt casual practice - it was structured, deliberate, focused. Every session had a purpose. Every shot was tracked. Every weakness was addressed systematically.
That training got me to:
But somewhere along the way, life happened. Work, family, building Sea Digital, teaching myself to code. The structured training fell away. I kept playing, kept competing, but the systematic approach to improvement? That disappeared.
Hereās what I know now that I didnāt fully understand then: you canāt improve what you donāt measure.
When I was training for state and national selection, I tracked everything - manually, on paper, trying to identify patterns and weaknesses. It was clunky and time-consuming, but it worked because it gave me clarity on what to practice.
This is why I built Torny. Not just to help other bowlers, but because I needed it myself. I need the data. I need the structure. I need the AI-guided training programs that tell me exactly what to work on based on my performance patterns.
I'm not just building a training tool for the lawn bowls community - I'm building the exact tool I need to achieve my own goal. And I'm going to use it to win the New Zealand Singles Championship.
In 2011, Lee Schraner and I went on a run. We made the final of the New South Wales Open Pairs, losing to Aaron Wilson and Matthew Flapper by just one shot in the extra end of the tie breaker. We were devastated.
But I said to Lee after that match: āWe will win the Australian Open Pairs this year.ā
One month later, we did exactly that - defeating Aron Sherriff and Mark Berghoffer in a tie breaker to win the Australian Open Pairs Championship.
Thatās what happens when you set a specific goal, believe in it completely, and do the work required to make it happen. The dream becomes real because you refused to let it remain just a dream.
But the year before that victory, something happened that broke my spirit. In 2010, I was omitted from the Australian Squad due to an altercation with a team member. I wonāt talk about it now, but I may share that story in the future. What I will say is this: I was cut without a phone call, without proper explanation, without closure. After years of structured training, sacrifices, and dedication, I was just⦠gone. No real conversation. No path forward. Just silence.
I kept playing. Lee and I won the Australian Open Pairs in 2011, proving I still had what it took. But emotionally, I was done with the politics and the heartbreak of representative bowls. In 2011, I withdrew from the Victorian team and effectively ended my bowls career.
The structured training that got me to state and national squads? Stopped. The systematic approach that made me competitive at the highest levels? Abandoned. I walked away from everything - the competition, the training, the dream. I was finished.
In 2015, I moved to New Zealand. From 2015 to 2017, I played at the Mount Victoria Bowling Club. I made some friends, which was great, but I still had this bitter taste in my mouth. I didnāt enjoy it like I used to. I was undisciplined, unfit, not taking it seriously.
In 2017, I won the New Zealand Pairs with Gary Lawson - but I didnāt practice at all. Just turned up and played. That victory should have been a wake-up call. If I could win a national pairs title in that condition, what could I achieve if I actually committed again?
But I didnāt commit. That was the mistake. The bitterness from 2010, the politics, the heartbreak - it had poisoned the joy I once had for the game. After winning the NZ Pairs in 2017, I stopped playing altogether. I walked away completely.
That was 8 years ago. And Iāve regretted it ever since.
Coming back after 8 years away, Iām essentially starting again. I have to relearn how to consistently get the bowl away. Rebuild match fitness. Rebuild the confidence that took me 20 years to develop the first time around.
More than that, I have to earn respect on the green again. Whatever reputation I had, whatever achievements I accumulated - theyāre in the past. Right now, Iām at the bottom of Mount Everest, freezing and cold, looking up at the summit with just a glimmer of belief that I can climb it.
Thatās daunting. But itās also the reality of walking away from something for nearly a decade.
Iām 41 years old. I have a full-time job as database manager at NZNO. Iām building Torny. I have a 6-year-old son who needs his dad present. I have a partner who supports my dreams but deserves my time and attention.
So why chase a singles championship now, when Iām starting from scratch?
Because the dream never died. Itās been there, quietly burning, for nearly three decades. And Iāve finally learned something important: age and responsibility arenāt obstacles to achievement - theyāre advantages.
Being a dad taught me how to care about more than myself, how to look after someone else, be disciplined, loving and committed. Those lessons translate directly to pursuing a championship goal - discipline, commitment, caring enough to do the work properly.
Iām more disciplined now than I was at 25. Iām more strategic. I understand my game better. I know how to manage my time, how to train efficiently, how to use data to identify exactly where I need to improve.
And most importantly, I have Torny - the tool that will give me structured, AI-guided training programs to address my specific weaknesses and build on my strengths.
This year, Iām playing the New Zealand Pairs with my brother Howard. Itās a significant moment for both of us.
Howard played lawn bowls for just two years when he was 14 to 16, then walked away for 22 years. Last year, I watched him play a small tournament with Dad, and he played really well. It sparked something in me - I thought it would be amazing to inspire my brother to play again.
Hereās the thing: I always thought he would be better than me. When we stopped all those years ago, he was starting to outplay me. He had natural talent that I had to work hard to match.
Who knows? Howie and Nev could be a good combination. Weāve never played a pairs tournament together. This could be the start of something special - not just for me returning to the game, but for both of us learning how to play again. And weāre playing for the right reasons: to play with my best mate and to enjoy spending time together while we try and figure out how to play good at bowls again.
Howie flew over from Australia for this, so we hope to go well - or at the very least, have a good holiday together.
Winning the New Zealand Singles Championship might take years. Iām okay with that. In fact, I think thatās the point. Itās not really about the trophy at the end - itās about having a goal and something meaningful to work towards. Itās about the daily discipline, the systematic improvement, the journey of becoming the player I know I can be.
This isnāt about instant gratification - itās about committing to a goal and systematically working toward it until itās achieved.
Hereās my commitment:
I want Noah to see this. Not just me talking about goals, but actually pursuing them. Tracking my progress. Failing and adjusting. Sticking with it when it's hard.
The lesson isn't "Dad won a championship." The lesson is "Dad set a goal, built the tools he needed, and refused to quit until he achieved it - no matter how long it took."
That's the difference between dreams and goals. Dreams are free. Goals require everything. And I'm willing to give everything to achieve this one.
Maybe you have a similar goal - a tournament you want to win, a skill level you want to reach, a competitive milestone thatās eluded you for years. If you do, hereās what Iāve learned:
I donāt know how long this will take. Maybe Iāll qualify next year. Maybe it will take five years. But Iām committed to the process, not just the outcome.
Every training session I log in Torny, every AI-guided program I complete, every weakness I systematically address - these are steps toward the goal. And when I finally achieve it, the trophy will be nice. But the real victory will be in proving to myself - and showing Noah - that dreams become reality when you turn them into goals and do the work.
Dreams are free. But goals? Goals require everything.
Join me on this journey. Track your training. Set your goal. And letās achieve it together.
Whatās your championship goal? That one achievement thatās eluded you but keeps calling you back? Set it. Track it. Work toward it systematically. And donāt stop until you achieve it.
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