Frank McKinney has been one of my closest friends for more than 26 years. We have a lot in common and know similar struggles: sharing the need to be liked, overcoming financial setbacks, searching for acceptance and love from our fathers. Both of us, like many, are on a lifelong search to figure out what success means.
Going in, I thought this would be a movie about rugby. But it grew into something much deeper. Redemption. Purpose. Accountability. Dignity. When you see the players slam into each other—hard enough to make you flinch—the struggle and pain we watch on the field is just puppetry to what they are experiencing and fighting for in their lives. For this underdog team, winning isn’t about championships and trophies.
We started filming this movie before the world knew what COVID-19 was, before the horrific death of George Floyd and the widespread protests against police brutality and racism. These events have shifted the dialogue about race and uncovered inequality that was allowed to function in plain sight. I’m a white male. And race became something that Frank and I talked about in a way that we hadn’t in our 26-year friendship. We have similar struggles, but I will never truly know how difficult it is to be black in a society that actively works to keep African Americans down.
When I see Frank on the green grass of the rugby pitch, I know he’s right where he wants to be. He’s found meaning and purpose as a coach and, strangely, this violent sport has helped to heal the kind of deep wounds that no one can see. I am honored and truly humbled that he has trusted me to tell his story. Directing this movie has showed me how sport can heal, and in the process, I have learned more not only about my friend, but also about myself.