Why Rugby? Why Not?

Why Rugby? Why Not Play Rugby?

Traveled across half the state coupe up five men deep in one car. $10 gas money to the poor driver for using his car and gas to lug 800 pounds of man to the opposing city and hopefully back. The condition of having to travel away, with the roster of twenty-two are below standard and illegal. Small compact cars supposably have the best gas mileage. Band of vehicles forming a convoy searching for the open field in the city on enemy territory. Reaching destination the home team stops their pregame warm up to watch the contending exit their Hondas and Toyotas. Strong and large bodies exiting their like sardine can car. The illusion of a clown car. This is how ruggers know they are amateur athletes. But this feels like the big leagues.

Return home after rugby match. Grabbing ice packs out of the freezer. The dead leg dance of a temporary limp from the abuse of the 80 minutes played out on the pitch. The dreaded shower to wash the sweat and dirt off the body. Water burns through the small cuts and scrapes as it cleans. Muscles too sore to bend forward to wash the stubbed toes and shoulder can bare reach to the shampoo hair.  Notice a few bruises starting to shine. Can’t wait for tomorrow to see how big that black eye can possibly show its black and blue colors. Smiling with pride and no regrets. Friends, co-workers and especially mothers continuing repeat the question. “Why Rugby?”

Twitter: @hawkeyerugby
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