Ruck me, maul me, make me scrum!!

Miscellaneous and Personal Stuff I Must Share
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Some years ago ('98 or so)…in the middle of a downpour…on a pitch outside of Columbus Ohio…the sidelines clogged with dozens of chanting Marines…I experienced one of my favorite moments.

I doubt I will ever be as happy under such circumstances again in my life, but that’s probably a good thing. :stuck_out_tongue:

It was the Women’s championship match of the Ohio Classic Rugby tournament. We didn’t win, but I had a damn good game, and you just can’t beat getting banged up and muddy in public, with people actually cheering for you to knock the holy hell out of some other filthy and eager soul out there with you on the field.

Along with the Marine’s men’s team (who apparently decided to take up the cause and be our cheerleading section for the match), two cute and clean gay boyfriends of mine huddled under an umbrella. They just happened to be in town on a business trip from San Francisco, and they were determined to watch the game and then take me out for all the steak and booze I could consume afterwords. How much better does it get than that? I had a very surreal gender-bending role-reversal moment as I tried not to smear too much mud on the leather seats of their rental car on the way to my place for a quick shower. Dimples (as he is affectionately known) kept fawning all over me, making sure I was hydrated and not too cold. Gay boys make the best Soccer Moms.

I only truly played rugby for a season and a half (tight-head prop), but god damn does that game get in your blood. I haven’t really played since moving down to to Atlanta (it is too damn hot for such shinanegans down here), aside from an isolated incident of whoring myself out to some shorthanded team from the Carolinas once. All that succeeded in doing was remind me just how out of shape I was, and how many years it had been since I’d last strapped on my boots.

Someday, though, I’d like to get back on the field again and feel that satisfying thunk! of planting some unsuspecting back a few inches into the ground. My favorite reaction was always the raspy, “Oh…my…god”, said with the last puff of air she’d have in her lungs for a good minute ore two. :smiley:

Any other ruggers reading who want to join me in some Glory Days nostalgia?

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  1. I was working part-time as a paramedic for the Texas A&M extramural sports dept. A good friend played on the Rugby team, so I tried to work all the home games.

Second side v LSU and the team had a few tired injured players. They dragged me out, put a sweaty shirt on me, and let me go at it. Lots of fun, fantastic parties. I filled in about three more times but never had enough time to go to the practices and join the team fully.

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17 years of hugely enjoyable games.

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>getting banged up and muddy in public

TMI alert!

5

The game made in heaven. :slight_smile:

Someone once said that soccer is a footy game played like gentlemen by thugs while Rugby is played by gentle(wo)men like thugs. Apt.

I currently play (second row) for a club team here in Brisbane and for my (secondary) college. Except for basketball, my first love, it is a passion with me. Bloody Jonny Wilkinson and his extra time field goals!

6

Female Tight Head Prop checking in.

waves at honeydewgrrl

wipes tear from eye

Oh yeah. Some of the best times of my misspent youth were spent on the pitch.
-Listening to Rage Against The Machine’s “Bombtrack” and Black Sabbath’s “Paranoid” before a game to get pumped up.
-The excited little breath that catches in your throat before the whistle blows.
-There is no feeling like the one you get after launching yourself at some unsuspecting chump and dropping them like a bad habit. That oh so satisfying “thud” and their look of confusion as they wonder where the hell you came from.
-Scoring your first try and hoping that your male teammates* won’t make you Zulu.
-The look of admiration tinged with fear that your boyfriend gives you when you come off the pitch all wild haired and muddy.
-Your male teammates stopping you from Zuluing at the after party. :smiley:
-Three. Man. Lift. 'Nuff said.
-A slower member of the opposing team hitting on you like you were some rugby queen and your teammates “setting him right.”
-Peeling electrical tape from your hair.
-A hot shower after a muddy game.
-Guessing what size boot left the set of perfect cleat marks on your side.
sniffing
Ah, the good old days.

*there was no female side when I started playing, so I played with the men before starting a women’s team.