James Bay Athletic Association: A Place That Formed Me
A high-angle aerial photograph of the James Bay Athletic Association field and clubhouse.
There are places you visit, and then there are places that quietly become part of who you are.
James Bay was never just a rugby club for me — it was a backdrop to my youth, and later, a cornerstone of my adult life.
I never played here.
Not once.
In high school and my early twenties, I was just one of the guys who hung around — watching games, having beers, shooting pool, and soaking up the atmosphere. It was a social hub, a place you drifted into without planning to.
Then in my late twenties, I came back to help out for what I thought would be one season.
One year managing the men’s first division team.
Straightforward. Temporary.
Fifteen years later, I was still there.
That’s how clubs like this work. You think you’re stepping in lightly, and suddenly it’s become part of your identity.
lot happens in fifteen years.
We won championships.
We toured.
We survived some legendary road trips.
We built friendships that outlasted seasons, jobs, even eras of our lives.
Some of the best moments of my life happened through this club.
Some of the hardest ones did too.
We lost people we loved — far too young, far too soon.
Those losses stay with you.
You feel them every time you walk through the clubhouse or see an old team photo.
And not every moment was glory.
Tuesday and Thursday practices at Beacon Hill Park were brutal — freezing wind, sideways rain, hands numb.
But the connections forged in that cold are still some of the strongest in my life.
This place isn’t just part of my story.
It is a piece of me.
My wedding reception was held in the Hall — just a simple fact, but it says plenty about how deep the roots go.
JBAA was founded in 1886, and somehow still feels like one of Victoria’s beating hearts.
Community-first.
Generational.
A place that’s kept kids, families, and rugby culture intertwined for nearly 140 years.
And now my four-year-old son plays here.
Nothing prepares you for how that feels — seeing your kid on the same field where you spent so many years managing, organizing, freezing, celebrating, grieving, laughing.
It’s surreal in the best way.
A quiet full-circle moment.
That’s why I wanted to film it.
I’ve flown over beaches, forests, coastlines, harbors — but this was different.
This was personal.
Seeing James Bay from above transformed it.
A place that once felt massive and chaotic suddenly looked calm, small, familiar, almost tender.
Time and perspective do that.
This film isn’t about rugby.
It’s about a place that helped form me — a place that shaped a significant chapter of my life and is now becoming part of my son’s.
A place full of friendships, stories, victories, heartbreaks, cold nights, warm gatherings, and memories I’ll carry forever.
Here’s the aerial perspective of a field and a Hall that have meant more to me than I ever expected — and hopefully a place my son will grow into just as deeply.
Thanks, JBAA.
