More Punishment

Yesterday, I went to see my first ever rugby game. Sure, I went to the rugby parties in college, but I never managed to drag my ass to one of the games. Since a friend of mine was playing and they were getting initiated into the international league by playing the game, I wanted to see it.

It was a perfect day to watch a match as there was a slight breeze and the temperature was just right. When the match started, I learned that a lot of people around me were watching their first match, too. So began a collective decyphering of the rules.

"Ok, how many points for a touchdown?"
"I think they're called tries."
"Um, six, I think, but I'm not certain."
"Ok, why did play stop?"
"This is confusing."
"Hey, can I borrow your rule book?"

So the guy sitting next to me read the rules and we figured out just what was going on. By the way, it's five points for a try.

Unfortunately, the other team has been together for four years and kind of had the whole thing down. The Madison Minotuars had been together only since March and are still adding players. They did get blanked, but were definitely improving as the match went on. By the second half, their scrum looked better than the other team's. In the end, it was a lot to nothing, but everyone seemed happy, but tired.

The best part of the day was the third half full of bear and pizza. It was hosted in the basement of Glass Nickel Pizza and was quite a riot. The songs they sang were worth the price of admission alone. While I was pouring myself a beer, a golf ball dropped into my glass. Immediately, the guys around me started yelling "Drink, Motherfucker, Drink!" Uh, ok. I To my detriment, that was the last of the beer (for the moment anyway) and my glass now empty.

A few minutes later, I had another full glass and was talking to a couple of guys and some guy dropped that damned golf ball in my beer. Aaaahhhhhh! After that beer was gone, I was sure to take the ball this time. That's when I noticed that most people had a hand over their glasses. Live and learn. My friend pointed out a guy who was not protecting his beer and I sneaked over and dropped it in. Ah, that felt good.

After a few beers, I was talking to my friend. He had bugged me about joining the team, but with my knee and back, I was hesitant. But after watching the match and joining the party, I kind of changed my mind. I asked him more about it and he said it really pushes you. You have to be aggressive and focused, two things that I'm not that great at. It'll be good to work on that.

So, now I'm joining another gay league. A guy on the Minneapolis team said that he had played on straight teams, but they gay team was just that much better to play with. If yesterday is any indication, he's right. And not to do it alone, I'm dragging my roommate with me. The worst that can happen is that my body won't handle it.

But I won't let that happen.