That might depend on whether the groping occurs before or after the boys spend an hour playing rugby in the mud and rain…
I’m thinking she’s going to say after.
jarhubby, who is a sweet, conservative Catholic boy says that he ‘strongly believes’ rugby queen involves some sort of ‘gang rape’, which I find hard to believe, since people know about it everywhere.
I guess I’ll just have to go back to B.G. and see if I can’t get picked again.
Not likely, next to those pert young college girls with their sexy, nublie bodies.
jar
If you look at the song you’ll know what (usually) happens.
BG? Is that Bowling Green, by any chance? I was almost killed at a rugby game there many years ago (was taking pictures on the sidelines when the ball came my way).
And BTW, if you do go back, ask 'em to do the elephant walk for you. A fair exhange for being the rugby queen, I’d think.
Bowling Green fighting falcons! Yay!
And I read the songs, and frankly, having my boobs grabbed and whathave you doesn’t seem like something that I should have been whisked away from…
but maybe because I think that is why I was whisked away…if you follow me.
Oh well.
jar
In college, I got to see what happens to the “Rugby Queen,” and I have to say your hubby is within the ballpark. Let me say, not all rugby players are like this, but my hatred burns with a white-hot flame for those involved in this particular event.
My friends and I were hanging out at a bar on a Saturday night. The rugby players from my college were there, and they were boorish, loud, drunk, idiots, but I could put up with that. It was when bar-time came near, when they picked out a clearly intoxicated girl (think almost catatonic), whose friends had run into the bathroom. I had known this girl from school. They dub her “Rugby Queen” and take her to the back room where they had live music. After about 2 minutes, one of her friends runs up to us at the bar, crying for help for her friend. We go to the back room, where the girl is bawling on the floor with her blouse off, with these f**** idiots throwing beer on her while singing about how they were all going to have sex with her. One guy was spitting on her, and another was groping her from behind. Me and my 2 friends grabbed her and got her out with her friends, who took her out of the bar. Needless to say, a huge barfight resulted, with more of my friends coming from a nearby bar (thank god I lived with a couple ROTC guys), and I got the crap beat out of me.
That’s what you avoided JarbabyJ. Consider yourself lucky.
The only good thing was the rugby club lost school funding the next year.
I graduated from Bowling Green in 1984. Somehow I can’t imagine it - jarbaby going to such a preppy school, with all those Young Republicans …
But anyway, from my (female) perspective, the problem with being the rugby queen is that you just don’t get any respect. The guys just want to feel her up, not date her. Most of the time, anyway. I think lots of times there’s so much alcohol involved no one remembers who the rugby queen was in the morning :D.
And Hamlet just said flat out what I’ve been sort of dancing around. I don’t know anyone personally that’s happened to, but the potential is always there for the sort of thing he described when a large group of young guys gets really drunk.
icky
well, I guess I am lucky. Better off just dating a rugby player…
or doing what I actually did…marrying a guy who LOOKS like a rugby player, but is really a highly literate shakespearean actor 
jar
mmm… nublie bodies… I hear there’s a cream for that…
Yup, sounds about right. I’d forgotten all the little songs we sang in the pub after games…
Let me second (third) the sentiment that the idea of jar at BGSU just seems weird.
well that sounds real nice. Now my ego is shattered. They just wanted to insult me…not sing my praises. Stupid rugby players. See if I ever blow them again.
I didn’t know BG was such a conservative place. We had a wild time. Of course, I was in the theatre department so we made it wild.
jar
I went to BG about 10 years before you did, jarbaby. That might be the difference. The Reagan era, and all. My best friend and roommate was a theater major before she switched to education. I don’t remember them being particularly wild at all, though I do remember the initiation into the theater fraternity involved waking the initiates up in the middle of the night and making them go shopping at Kroger’s in whatever they happened to be wearing at the time.
One of my friend’s theater buds was a guy who was getting an advanced degree and teaching a couple theater classes. He commented to us one time that he was quite impressed the first day of classes with how well-groomed everyone was. So I guess what BG was best known for back then was hygiene :D.
Wow, I didn’t realize BG was such a popular place!
What year did you graduate, Jarbaby?
As an ex-rugby player, I’d say that romansperson is closest. The intention is for it to be good natured, if bawdy, fun with a woman who 1)knows what she is getting into, and 2)is doesn’t mind this type of attention. Unfortunately, drunken rugby players are not known for their good judgment, so in some cases it gets out of hand.
Essentially a comely lass is chosen and willingly submits to be rugby queen. At first she is showered with compliments and free drinks. She may or may not be given such perks as a jersey or set of mardi gras beads. Soon, however she becomes the center of attention and ribald songs are song questioning her virtue and looks. Finally she is placed on a chair and a song is sung whereby each verse invites hands to be placed and progressively more intimate parts of her body. When the song is finished, or she starts brushing away hands, it’s over. Finé. Thankfully the gents on my particular team never got out of hand, but I can imagine at this point baser individuals may not be able to resist wholesale grouping and attempts to remove clothing.
I graduated in '94 and my hubby graduated in '93!
Yay BG.
Waverly, thanks for your account of the situation. I’m not sure if I would have liked it. I like free drinks and attention and jerseys, but I"m also hypersensitive to criticism, so if they made a joke about my body, even in jest I’d have been reduced to tears.
Oh well.
jar
Exactly what Waverly said.
And, here’s another free tip, as long as we’re here: Never accept the offer of a team rugby shirt from a rugby player unless you really, really like him because he’ll most likely expect um, something, in return. Don’t ask for a rugby shirt from a rugby player unless you want to um, pay for it. If you don’t, you still might get a shirt, but it’ll have holes cut in strategic places.
No, I am not making this up.
And people wonder where I get my bad boy complex from.
i friggin lust after rugby players for god’s sake!
jar