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When I was a kid, my mum coached our netball team. Shed never played, and taught herself the rules with a tattered paperback shed borrowed from the library. She only signed up because nobody else would. At first I was proud she was so committed to my sporting life that shed coach a game shed never played. But that soon changed.Some days it was the best having her around. She was funny and kind and the other girls loved her. But some days I hated how being the coachs daughter made me stand apart. Plus, her obsession with fairness meant I rarely played the position I wanted, lest it be seen as favoritism. And I could forget ever winning most valuable player.So when my daughter started a netball team and they needed a coach, I fled. The last thing I wanted was for my daughter to feel as confused as Id felt as a teenager. My feelings about all that changed quickly.My mum, whod been fighting?cancer for 18 months, died. Suddenly, my rock, someone Id relied on, was gone. That hit home when I undertook the wrenching task of sorting through her possessions and a million memories surfaced. Among them, a photograph?of her and I taken on the day we won our first netball championship back in 1982. I was 12, tall and slim with a long ponytail and a grin from ear to ear. Mum was next to me, wearing a grin equal to my own. I hadnt seen that photo for a long time. And it rocked me. It made me realize that I wasnt just grieving my mums death, I was grieving the loss of being a child.With her gone, nobody knew when my first tooth had fallen out, or how I cried after my boyfriend dumped me. That part of my history was lost. I ached for some connection to it. I hoped that maybe if I could coach like she had, some link to my past would still live.At the first few training sessions I was terrified. The kids were learning the game, I was learning how to coach, and somewhere a ghost of my mum hovered on the sidelines smiling at the whole catastrophe. When my daughter flashed a look of fury my way during a game, I realized we needed some ground rules. I agreed that fairness meant letting her play the position she liked as often as the rest of the girls, and she agreed not to think she could get away with stuff just because we were related.Coaching was something I took on for personal reasons, to try to be close to a mum who was no longer here. I never expected to actually enjoy it. Three years in, I have discovered more about myself than I thought possible.Ive rediscovered a love of netball and now play again in an adult team. Ive uncovered a love of teaching and most weeks look forward to training nights when I can help the girls to learn new skills and strive to improve. And Ive realized that mum never coached to learn about netball, or to help us win championships. She coached to be close to me and show she cared. Even if Im not the greatest coach in the world, thats exactly why Im doing it too.Thats what I lost when she died. Not my childhood memories or a connection to my past, but someone to teach me how to be a mother. Perhaps by finding that photograph my mums parenting choices and style have found a way to live on. Just like netball gave mum and I the way to share belonging to a team, I now get to share my daughters special world. It also gives me rare insight into her friendships and closeness with her friends that I wouldnt otherwise have.They call me (affectionately, I hope) the hugger, because so often with a tween-aged team of 10 girls, there are tears. Someone is always feeling something strongly, and more often than not my role is to sit, listen and counsel. I not only coach them netball skills but also friendship skills.When mum died an old friend that I hadnt seen in many years contacted me via email. She told me how jealous shed been of my relationship with my mum when she was a teenager, because my mum was one of those involved mums who was always there, and always approachable. I think coaching did that.At the time I never noticed, but now that Im in the same boat, I see how lucky I am. Granted my daughter doesnt always like that Im her coach, but sometimes she does, and for now, those rare times are enough. Hopefully when shes grown up and Im gone, shell look back as fondly as I do and maybe coach her daughters team too.Nova Weetman lives in Melbourne, Australia. She writes childrens books and writes childrens television shows, and she loves the game of netball. Custom Chicago Cubs Jerseys .Y. - General manager Billy King says the Brooklyn Nets are looking to add a big man and confirmed the team worked out centre Jason Collins, who would become the first openly gay active NBA player if signed. Wholesale Custom Baseball Jerseys . Once again Jordan Cieciwa (@FitCityJordan) and I (@LynchOnSports) go head to head in our picks. Last weekend at UFC Fight Night 32 my #TeamLynch got the best of #TeamJC by a score of 9-6. Let us know which side youre on for UFC 167 use the hashtag #TeamLynch or #TeamJC on Twitter. http://www.customjerseysbaseball.com/ .C. -- Manny Malhotra had two goals and an assist, leading the Carolina Hurricanes to a 6-3 win over the Ottawa Senators on Saturday. Custom Toronto Blue Jays Jerseys . The defending champion beat Gael Monfils of France 7-6 (6), 6-3, while second-seeded Andy Murray of Britain dispatched Edouard Roger-Vasselin, also of France, 6-3, 6-3. Making his first appearance since injuring his wrist a month ago, Del Potro had difficulty with his service games in the first set. Custom Baseball Jerseys Outlet .Y. -- The Buffalo Sabres have recalled forward Kevin Porter and defenceman Chad Ruhwedel from the minors as part of a five-player roster shuffle made by the NHLs worst team. A look at Arnold Palmers farewell rounds at the Masters, U.S. Open and British Open:---MASTERS:Something didnt feel right. Six holes on a Saturday morning in front of a barely arriving crowd was no way for Arnold Palmer to close out his illustrious career at Augusta National.Palmer wanted to go out his way, and two years after his originally scheduled farewell to the Masters, he did.The Kings closing-round 84 came on a sun-splashed Friday afternoon in 2004 and wrapped up an even 50 years of competition at the major he propelled straight into American culture.He won the first of his four green jackets in 1958 -- a week during which a phenomenon known as Arnies Army began.That win gave him a lifetime ticket to Augusta. The Masters had long embraced a tradition of letting past champions enter the tournament for as long as they liked.But as that list of champions grew longer, and older, and, frankly, less illustrious, the club tried to set some boundaries.Palmer was among the first to be given the hint, and in 2002, he was set to play his last round -- at age 72.Rain delayed play early that week, and what couldve been Palmers last day in a competitive round on the grounds finished under gray, misty skies near the crack of dawn -- with his first shot struck from the 13th fairway.Didnt feel right, and after meeting with then-chairman Hootie Johnson, Palmer was given the chance to make it an even 50 years. He closed out his playing days in 2004, though he would go on to hit the ceremonial first tee shot for years after that.If you just use your imagination, youll understand the emotion, Palmer said after his closing round.Among those on hand to watch him were Col. Joe Curtis, who came to Augusta for 49 years, the last few in an electric wheelchair, specifically to watch one man.He has a way of making everybody think hes looking at them, Curtis said that day. Thats called charisma.---BRITISH OPEN:On his final trip over the ancient stone bridge that crosses the famous Swilcan Burn at St. Andrews, Palmer stopped and posed for pictures.He knew the significance of the moment and wanted to savor it.Many of his colleagues did, too.Nick Faldo, Brad Faxon, Steve Elkington and David Duval sat on the stone steps of the clubhouse and watched Palmer finish. Duval had a camera and took pictures. They had prime seats as Palmer walked up the 18th fairway for the last time at the British Open in 1995, 35 years after he first played golfs oldest major.Palmer took his time finishing, giving the thousands on hand a glimpse of a 65-year-old legend playing his last shot on the last hole of his 23rd and final Brittish Open.ddddddddddddIan Baker-Finch and Peter Baker, who were in Palmers group, finished first so Palmer could be the last to putt out. He hunched over in his usual stance and gently tapped the ball into the hole.Palmer smiled, shook hands with Mark McCormack of International Management Group, Michael Bonallack of the Royal & Ancient Golf Club of St. Andrews, waved to the crowd once more and walked away for good.Its over, Palmer said.He signed for a 75, which was considerably better than his first-round 83, but not good enough to make the cut.As I was coming up 18, I kept thinking about 1960 and what it led to, Palmer said later, his voice cracking with emotion. A lot of great years and a lot of happy times.Before Palmer traveled to the Old Course in 1960, the British Open had fallen off the radar of American golf. The year before, at Muirfield, no American pros were in the field. It was too far away and not nearly as profitable as stateside events.Nonetheless, having won the Masters and the U.S. Open, Palmer deemed it important to go to St. Andrews and win the British Open. He created talk of a professional Grand Slam for the first time and came oh-so-close to a third straight major. He lost by one to Kel Nagle and decided to come back for the challenge.He won the Claret Jug in 1961 at Royal Birkdale and in 1962 at Royal Troon, bringing the Open back to international prominence and making his farewell a moment to savor.---U.S. OPEN:He got there with 30 seconds to spare.Arnold Palmers last U.S. Open came at what was essentially his home course -- Oakmont Country Club, only about 40 miles from his home in Latrobe, Pennsylvania.He had so much trouble working his way through the throng of well-wishers, Palmer barely made it to the first tee on time. He had only his putter with him -- his caddie was also having trouble getting to the tee box.Thankfully, Palmers playing partners that day -- Rocco Mediate and John Mahaffey -- milked their pre-shot routines to the max, and all was fine for Palmer, who hit his first shot at 2:03 p.m. for what was, officially, a 2 p.m. tee time.It was all that passed for drama over the two days.Palmer shot 77-81 over his final two rounds at Oakmont, often thought as one of the most difficult U.S. Open tracks (which is saying something).When it was over, the 64-year-old was awash in tears.As he sat down for the post-round interviews, he said: I cant get it started, then buried his head in a towel and tried to regain his composure. ' ' '