An opinion piece from the Editor
On 22 July, England’s Over-45 men will walk out at HC Rotterdam to represent their country at the World Masters Hockey World Cup. They have earned their place through three decades of dedication to the game. They will pull on the same white shirt, with the same badge over the heart, that every England international has worn.
And they will have paid for the privilege themselves — right down to the meals that aren’t covered by the hotel.
Let that sit for a moment. Grown men, selected by their country, reduced to posting fundraising appeals to strangers on the internet so they can afford to go and play for England. Not because the money isn’t there. Because the bodies that hold it have decided Masters hockey isn’t worth a penny of it.
The numbers don’t lie
For the Paris Olympic cycle, UK Sport awarded GB and England Hockey roughly £12.4 million through its World Class Programme — a figure that climbed past £13.5 million once in-cycle top-ups are added. Layer commercial sponsorship on top of that and the sport is, by any reasonable measure, well resourced.
Of that money, the amount that finds its way to Masters hockey is precisely zero. Not a reduced contribution. Not a token. Nothing.

Every England Master who is selected funds their own campaign. For this World Cup, each player is looking at somewhere between £4,000 and £5,000 just to take part — and that covers the tournament fees, the flights and the hotel, but not much else. On- and off-field kit runs to around another £300. The hotel includes breakfast and breakfast only, so every other meal comes out of the player’s own pocket. And none of this touches the build-up: the training camps players are expected to attend, each with its own travel and accommodation bill, long before they ever reach Rotterdam.
These are not professional athletes on central contracts. They have jobs, mortgages and families. They are paying thousands of pounds for the honour of representing the country that already spends millions on hockey — and won’t share a slice of it with them.
Chris
Take Chris Page. Thirty-plus years in the game, the last thirty of them at Pelicans, and a diagnostic technician at Audi by day. A father of three. He describes the sport as a lifeline — the structure, purpose and community of being in a team have been central to keeping him both mentally and physically well, and he is honest about how much that has mattered to him as a man who hasn’t always found it easy to talk about mental health.
Selection for England is the realisation of a lifelong dream. He would, in his own words, far rather not have to ask anyone for help to get there. But the system leaves him no choice, so he has set up a fundraising page to cover the costs the sport refuses to.
You can support Chris here: https://gofund.me/6930b9445
Dan
Or take Dan Bleach — “Bleachy” to just about everyone in the game. A self-employed builder who has spent his whole hockey life at the club that grew out of Headington and became Oxford HC. Married, with four children.
Dan’s is a story of transformation. He lost much of his twenties to addiction and alcoholism, came close to losing far more than that, and with the help of family and friends went into rehab in 2010. He has recently marked fifteen years clean and sober. Hockey came back into his life as part of that recovery, and his commitment to it now is total. Representing England is, for him, another lifelong dream within reach.
It costs him around £4,000 to chase it. So, like Chris, he is asking for help.
You can support Dan here: https://gofund.me/03ecf3147
These are exactly the stories our sport loves to tell when it suits — resilience, community, second chances, the badge meaning something. We should be proud to put them on the front page. We should be ashamed that the men living them are passing a hat round to fund their own selection.
This is not just an English problem
Before anyone in Cardiff, Glasgow or Dublin reaches for a sense of superiority, the picture across these islands is identical. Hockey Wales, Scottish Hockey and Hockey Ireland contribute nothing to their Masters players either. Their governing bodies operate on far smaller funding pots than England’s, which makes the squeeze on their athletes even tighter — but the principle is the same everywhere. Wear the shirt, foot the bill.
When every home nation independently arrives at the same answer, it stops being an oversight and starts looking like a settled view: that Masters players are good enough to represent the country, but not worth investing in.
The ask
Nobody is suggesting Masters hockey should be funded like the Olympic programme. The athletes aren’t asking for that. What they are asking — and what this publication is asking on their behalf — is for the governing bodies to stop pretending a contribution of zero is acceptable when they are handling eight-figure sums.
A modest, ring-fenced fund. A negotiated rate on kit and travel. A serious conversation about why the people proudest to wear the badge are the only internationals expected to bankroll themselves. Any of it would be a start. All of it is overdue.
Until that changes, the rest of us can do the thing the governing bodies won’t. Chris and Dan are going to Rotterdam to play for England whatever happens. Help them get there, and share their pages so others can too.
Chris: https://gofund.me/6930b9445 Dan: https://gofund.me/03ecf3147

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