I have fond memories of coronation weekend for reasons other than the obvious joys of watching the historic ceremony and concert.
It’s the true grit of two of my grandsons which lingers.
One was on stage in Grease at the Tivoli Theatre, while the other had his face in the mud, playing football for the rather glamorous-sounding Kincorth Emirates Youth team (for ages seven and eight).
Two extremes, but the same character-building benefits; things which we might think are lacking today in children, and public life, for that matter.
Within minutes of seeing the tense face of the Archbishop of Canterbury firmly screwing an enormous crown onto the monarch’s head – for fear it would fall off – we were scurrying down the road for another crowning moment.
It was my eldest grandson’s first performance on stage in a professional-style production, as a cast member of Junior Aberdeen Youth Music Theatre.
Lots of other families had escaped from all things royal to see their youngsters perform in a Saturday matinee of that old, blockbusting crowd-pleaser, Grease. The schools version, I should hasten to add.
But there was no forewarning of backstage drama which was to follow later on.
I love the warm glow of musicals and the magical feeling of sitting in a beautiful, old theatre as the lights go down and the stage suddenly comes alive. Not only was it a lovely, nostalgic show, but also being staged in a wonderful theatre and former opera house, now restored to its former glory.
Musical theatre is infectious; just like Eurovision, which we enjoyed at the weekend. Both highly competitive yet full of camaraderie – where young people are challenged to reach for the stars.
We were up in the Tivoli dress circle, but there was a nod to the historic enormity of a coronation going on outside. A large cardboard cutout of smiling King Charles III was standing in a private box, overlooking the stage. A small, gold crown sat on his head at a jaunty angle; I think he would have been amused.
Backstage heroes made sure the show could go on
We all trooped out a couple of hours later, beaming with pride and with a spring in our stride. As The P&J’s reviewer quite rightly wrote at the time, what a talented bunch of youngsters.
But, for my grandson, this romantic musical became something of a painful drama later on, during the final evening show of its four-day run. Like greased lightning, a tummy upset befell him, and it was touch and go as to whether he could go out for the second act, after the interval.
I think it’s fair to say he felt like death warmed up; for an 11-year-old in his debut show, it must have suddenly felt like a very lonely place. The backstage sense of dread was probably awful, too; quite a lot of dialogue and action hinged on his part.
But this was where those unsung heroes who are always behind the scenes came into their own. They brought our boy “back to life”, so to speak, by giving him the care and confidence to get out there.
He pulled it off, and I don’t think anyone in the audience noticed anything. It was a classic example of the old theatrical expression “the show must go on”, and delivering a performance that the job demands, come what may. A lesson in life, in fact.
It’s ironic how often in adult life people fail so spectacularly to deliver, especially in public office, where incompetence and failing to meet standards is rife. Yet, without maintaining standards – and being challenged constantly – how can we be any good at anything in life, or as a country?
Kids from the Covid generation will face further hurdles
There are unsung heroes at Kincorth Emirates, too.
You usually hear the youth team coaches before you actually see them. Their roars of encouragement and cajoling carry the length and breadth of huge playing fields, as boys of a tender age do battle with their opponents.
These sounds may not be dissimilar to the roars on Nelson’s battleships at Trafalgar, but there’s more at stake here, I can assure you.
My middle grandson came off the pitch splattered in mud and sodden to the core, but with a huge grin
I held a brolly at right angles to my body to shield me from the driving rain and bitter wind the morning after Grease. My middle grandson came off the pitch splattered in mud and sodden to the core, but with a huge grin.
Hats off to these sporting and theatrical coaches who are helping our Covid-kid generation get back to normal. Don’t forget their psychological struggles during the worst of the pandemic; now it’s over, they’ll still need our support as they grow.
And we as adults can learn something from their noble pursuit of perfection, new skills and self-discipline, whether that be on the sports field or in shows like Grease.
We’d better shape up, I say.
David Knight is the long-serving former deputy editor of The Press and Journal
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