(03) 9020 2905It was when Shane Warne retired from international cricket after the 2006-07 Ashes series that the lightning bolt struck me.
Bugger! How’d I get this old, this fast?
Not moving-into-nursing-home old. Not time-to-get-regular-prostate-checks old. Not even where’d-that-grey-hair-come-from old (too late).
But old enough to realise some childhood dreams were now, finally, a snowflake’s chance in hell of being realised.
Warney is about 15 months older than me. His departure meant that … sob … there was barely anyone older than me left playing any kind of elite cardio-vascular sport (of which cricket barely qualifies).
Sport’s like that. Sure, there’s golf, darts and snooker. And Tiger Woods certainly proved that groupies – if that’s the reward you seek – can be attracted to sports traditionally dominated by fat lager lads.
“Debt Man, what’s your point? You making a play for a switch to sports writer at The West?”
Naaaah! Thanks for the offer. But I’ll stick with finance, if that’s okay.
My point is that, sadly, youthful ambitions of sporting celebrity must die at some stage.
Dreams tend to fizzle out. Whether it’s owning the hottest car in town, being a screamingly successful footy player, a leading lady, or even Fireman Sam (4½-year-old DebtBoy’s current career plan), you understand the time has passed and you get over it.
Financial dreams, however, never die, though they might fade like a pair of Levis. With due deference to our diggers, age does not weary them.
And neither should they. It is never too late to grow your stash. In fact, with rising incomes for Gen Xers and experience for Baby Boomers, it SHOULD get easier.
Wealth requires just two questions to be answered. Ready?
How bad do you want it? What are you prepared to sacrifice?
If you answer those two questions with “like I crave air!” and “my first born!”, then you’re just a little bit too scary to hang out with. You might eat one of us on a million-dollar dare.
You may achieve obscene riches, but the cost will be having a life and losing all your friends. (Or maybe savouring them with “some fava beans and a nice chianti”.) If you’re happy with that being the price of fabulous wealth … then off to the psych ward for you.
For the rest of us, it requires some scales to be balanced. You just decide what level of sport (wealth) you want to play: elite; state-league; good enough to make friends envious; just-above average schmo; or weekend hacker.
Then, understand that awesome 80s Jane Fonda cliche, “no pain, no gain”.
Sports stars make sacrifices on their way to the top. An active social life must fall by the wayside (except, maybe, if your name is Brendan Fevola). Food becomes more about sustenance than fun.
Sex is bad for performance. Though sports medicine might need to revisit that theory, given Tiger Woods’ performance when he had a string of concubines versus now.
Half the battle with wealth is about that little bit of sacrifice, or “delayed gratification” as I prefer to call it.
That could be salary sacrifice into super, or putting $500 a month into an investment plan. It could be upping the mortgage payments, stretching yourself with an investment property, starting your own business or getting a second job.
Or, if desperate, leasing out the kids. Kidding.
It could be about reducing expenses. That can be achieved by eating out less, buying fewer clothes, spending a holiday in a local caravan park or a cheap holiday home rather than flying somewhere, delaying updating your car, spending less on kids’ junk, or limiting Christmas spending.
What’s your current household income?
About 10 per cent of that, before tax, needs to go to your wealth creation program, in whatever form of the above you choose.
Shane Warne, the slimmed-down fiancé/handbag of Liz Hurley, is out of retirement again to play Twenty-20 for the Melbourne Stars, sacrificing some quality time with Liz to inspire a new generation of local cricketers.
Warney’s return won’t bring back dreams of me representing Australia.
But it’s a comeback that should be inspiration for the rest of us to get back on track with something we do have control over. Our finances.
Or maybe I just might take up darts.
Bruce Brammall is the author of Debt Man Walking (www.debtman.com.au) and a licensed financial adviser. bruce@debtman.com.au .