We all say we enjoy playing rugby, but most guys don't really

Hear now the words of Faf de Klerk, a warrior of the green fields, whose frame may be small but whose spirit is vast: “We all say we enjoy playing rugby, but most guys don’t really show it—and some guys I don’t think actually enjoy it. So every time I arrive in the morning, I’ve always got a smile on my face. Once I lose that enjoyment, I will stop playing.” Though uttered in the realm of sport, this saying carries the weight of a philosophy that touches all pursuits of men. For it teaches us that the true power in labor, in battle, in creation, is not found in fear or duty alone, but in joy.

Consider the meaning. Many proclaim their love for their craft, yet their faces betray them. They march as if to war without spirit, enduring the toil but never embracing the gift. But de Klerk, with the wisdom of simplicity, reveals that the sign of true devotion is not the words one speaks, but the smile one carries. For the one who smiles at dawn, even before the work has begun, has already conquered the heaviness of the day. Such joy is not a mask—it is fuel, the fire that sustains effort when the body grows weary.

In ancient times, warriors too knew this truth. The samurai of Japan, bound by the code of bushidō, were trained not only in discipline but in serenity. They entered the field of battle with calmness, sometimes even with laughter, for they had made peace with their path. Their joy was not loud, but it was steady, a quiet radiance that revealed they had chosen their calling freely. In the same way, de Klerk reminds us that to play with a smile is to declare: I am where I belong.

Think also of the story of Eric Liddell, the Scottish runner who triumphed in the 1924 Olympics. When asked why he ran, he replied, “When I run, I feel His pleasure.” It was not victory alone that drove him, but the sacred enjoyment of the race itself. Like de Klerk, Liddell understood that once the joy is gone, the path loses its meaning. Triumph without joy is empty; toil without delight is slavery. Only when the spirit rejoices in its labor can a man find both greatness and peace.

The words of de Klerk also carry a warning. Many men cling to their work long after their joy has departed. They labor for wealth, for status, or for fear of change, and in doing so, they wither. Their hands move, but their spirits are asleep. Yet de Klerk declares boldly: “Once I lose that enjoyment, I will stop.” This is not weakness but strength—the courage to walk away when the soul no longer sings. It is a reminder that to live fully is to honor both passion and purpose, not to chain oneself to a joyless path.

Thus, the lesson is this: whatever your calling—be it sport, craft, or service—guard your enjoyment as a treasure. For it is the wellspring of energy, the fountain of resilience, the song that turns hardship into play. Do not merely say you love your work; show it. Let your smile be the banner of your spirit, so that all who see you know that you labor with delight, not with drudgery.

In your daily walk, practice this wisdom. Ask yourself each morning: Does my path bring me joy? If the answer is yes, enter the day with gratitude and let your smile be your shield. If the answer is no, seek the cause. Can the flame be rekindled through rest, reflection, or renewal? And if the flame is truly gone, have the courage to change your course. For as de Klerk teaches, the game is only worth playing while the heart delights in it. And so, O children of tomorrow, let your joy be your compass, and your smile the proof of your devotion.