Sometimes the most meaningful moments aren't created overnight. They're built slowly, through years of conversations, relationships and small decisions. Last week, many of those threads came together in one unforgettable evening.

Last Thursday, June 18th, you led thirty grown men out onto the pitch at Allianz Stadium.

You were wearing your England rugby shirt. Your socks were pulled up, and you had absolutely no idea why everyone was following you.

To you, it was just another adventure.

To me, it was one of the proudest moments of my life.

A few hours earlier, we'd been standing together inside the England changing room. The same room where some of the country's greatest rugby players prepare themselves before walking out into battle. Only this time, it wasn't rugby players sitting on the benches.

It was fathers. 

The event was called Around the Fire, a gathering I had organised during Father's Day week, built around a simple question: What are we passing on?

Not money, or possessions. But values, stories and lessons. The things that truly last.

You might not remember much of that evening. At four years old, your attention was understandably focused elsewhere. The rugby pitch. The target nets. The food. The ice cream machine and marshmallows on sticks. Plus the fact you got to stay up far later than normal.

But one day, when you're older, I'll show you the photographs, better yet, the short film we made from the evening, and tell you why it mattered so much.

People have asked me why I called the event Around the Fire. The answer is actually quite simple. There is something deeply human about gathering around a fire. Long before smartphones, meeting rooms or social media, people gathered around flames to eat, tell stories, share knowledge and feel connected to one another.

A fire creates something surprisingly difficult to replicate. Warmth. Ambience. A sense of safety. It slows people down. It gives them permission to relax, reflect and open up.

Some of the best conversations of my life have happened around a fire, just like the one in our back garden. Not because anyone planned them, but because there is something primal about sitting alongside other people and staring into the glow of a flame. The conversation becomes less forced. The masks come off. People speak more honestly. And that's what I wanted to create.

Not an event, but a campfire. Just with a few more people around it, not just you, me and mumma. 

As guests arrived, they were welcomed into the changing room and invited to sit in the same seats occupied by England players. On each seat was a gift from us, an early Father’s Day present. 

The room itself was a reflection of the people gathered inside it. Some were new fathers. Some had teenagers. Some had grown-up children. Some were lifelong friends. Others had never met before.

And not everyone in the room was a father. But everyone has one. Or had one. Or had been shaped by a father figure, a grandfather maybe.

Whilst the evening was a celebration of fatherhood, it was really about something bigger than that. It was about influence. The people who help shape us into who we become and the responsibility we all carry to pass something meaningful on to the people who come after us.

Pitchside, the stadium had been transformed. Five Big Green Eggs sat smoking gently throughout the evening, sending ribbons of wood smoke into the summer air. Every so often a lid would lift, releasing another burst of heat and aroma. 

People naturally drifted towards them. Conversations formed around them. Guests lingered around them. Stories were shared around them.

Those Big Green Eggs became our version of the campfire.

The food was exceptional, but that wasn't really the point. They created a focal point. A reason for people to gather. A place where strangers became friends.

The whole evening felt less like an event and more like a gathering.

And perhaps that's what I was most proud of.

Two guests in particular stayed with me.

Oscar and Mark.

Both subscribers to these letters. Both arrived on their own. Neither of them knew anyone else attending and we had only connected on email when I extended the invitation to them. I've always admired people who can do that. Walking into a room full of strangers takes courage. It would've been easier to stay home. Instead, they showed up.

By the end of the evening, they were laughing, sharing stories and contributing to conversations as though they'd been there from the very beginning.

Their company was a gift.

And they reminded me that some of life's best experiences sit just beyond our comfort zone.

None of this would've happened without the team at Allianz Stadium. A few weeks ago, this event existed only as an idea. 

They didn't just provide a venue. They trusted me with an opportunity. They believed in an idea before it existed.

As you get older, you'll discover how important that is. There will be people who open doors for you, encourage you and take a chance on you before there is proof. Never take those people for granted.

Thank you Laura, Emily, Shirene, Sophie, Shaun and everyone else who made this possible.

The following morning, we skipped out on nursery.

You'd been up far too late the night before, so we decided to stay at home together and eat ice cream. We looked through photographs from the evening before, you pointed at different pictures and told me your favourite parts.

You were reliving an adventure, rightly so.

I was reliving something else entirely.

Because whilst you were remembering what happened, I found myself thinking about how long it had taken to get there.

This event wasn't built in ten days. It was built over years.

Years of writing. Years of conversations. Years of showing up. Years of paying attention to the things that made me feel alive. 

As I looked around the stadium that evening, I noticed something else.

So much of what surrounded us wasn't there by accident.

The Defender.

The YETI coolers.

The Big Green Eggs.

The food.

The atmosphere.

All of these things had existed only as ideas scribbled in notebooks and saved to mood boards. 

I didn't know if any of it would ever happen. I just knew I was drawn towards it.

Looking back now, I realise I wasn't building an event. I was building a direction.

And eventually, the pieces began to find each other.

There is a lesson in that.

In basketball, nobody remembers the hundreds of free throws taken in an empty gym. They remember the one taken with seconds left on the clock. But the shot only goes in because of all the unseen repetitions that came before it.

Life is often the same.

When your moment arrives, it can look like luck from the outside. What people don't see are the thousands of quiet decisions that made the moment possible.

Most people overestimate what can happen in a week and underestimate what can happen in five years.

Trust takes time. Friendship takes time. Opportunity takes time. Purpose takes time.

The trick is finding something you genuinely care about and staying close to it long enough for the world to notice.

My hope is that Around the Fire becomes an annual tradition at Allianz Stadium. A gathering that returns each year to celebrate fathers, family and the stories we pass on.

But I also hope we don't wait another year.

In fact, we're already thinking about what comes next and if all goes to plan, we'll to Gleneagles later this summer. A very different backdrop. No stadium. No floodlights. 

Instead, a loch stretching into the distance. Open fires burning from morning until night. Food cooked slowly over flame. Wood smoke drifting through the air. Coffee by the water at sunrise. Saunas perched on the edge of the loch. Cold-water dips that take your breath away.

The location might change, but the intention remains the same.

Create a space where people feel seen, where stories are shared, where meaningful connections are made.

One day you'll have your own dreams. Your own ideas. Your own version of an empty stadium.

At first, it might feel like nobody else can see what you see. That's okay, keep going, keep learning, keep showing up. Because the best things in life are rarely built quickly. And when your moment finally arrives, when all those years of effort, patience and preparation come together, don't be afraid to step forward.

Take your shot.

Not because you're guaranteed to make it.

But because you've earned the right to take it.

Love,

P.s Thank you so much to everyone who supported that evening. It’s a memory I’ll cherish for a lifetime.