Rugby Rules

I love sports, but learning the proper rules is critical.



Since I'm posting about rugby, I'll tell my one good rugby story.

When I was in college I had a chance to go back East and work for the government as an intern. Not to be confused with Monica Lewinsky, I am the intern that did NOT give the head to the President of the United States, leaving a stain on her dress as well as Bill Clinton's legacy.

Instead, I played rugby. Sitting in the hot tub on night I started talking to some guys who played with an alumni team from a local college. Since none of them were actually alumni of said college, when I expressed and interest in playing they whole heartedly invited me to join the team.

I was, at the time, 23 years old, 195 pounds, and fit, but not fast, however, when compared to 30 year old guys how were well past their prime, I was the new, young, and fast kid. But I was also the guy who had never played rugby before. They taught me the rules but that is not the point of the story.

This is....

As a non-drinker, even in college, I was not only the designated driver, but I was in charge of keeping a certain few team mates from going home with drunk and ugly women. It was more difficult than you might imagine. Over the course of the season I confiscated keys, called cabs, sent men to the restroom and told the girls that he had gone home or met someone else. I became quite adept at limiting the damage of beer goggles and bad decisions. I failed at times, but I did my best.

The best strategy was to go after pretty sober women, which, as you know, is much more difficult and harder to defend against from my perspective.

So after one game, Mitch is no where to be found. Neither is the hottie brunette that was cheering from the other team. It was tradition in this league that both teams went out for drinks together after the game. Since it was just a bunch of old boys playing for fun, why not party after?

Mitch never shows up so we leave, with me behind the wheel of course. We get back to the hotel, 5 drunk rugby players and me. I get to the room, unlock the door, we all pile in, and there is Mitch with the hottie, naked and in bed.

I think I sprung a boner at once, but my inebriated friends just laughed at their team captian and pulled the covers off the bed in 2 seconds flat. Mitch was yelling, she was screaming, I was staring, and it was the best thing ever.

She was, in fact, a hottie in every sense of the words and it was one of the first times I had seen a stranger totally naked in real life (AOL had been invented and, though downloads took 2 hours, pictures were available).

After 20-30 seconds of watching them squirm and try to hide, someone threw them a blanket and we all stomped out. Well, everyone but me. Mitch had to snap his fingers or something to get me out of my trance. The last thing I remember was her smiling at me as I left.

Boy, do I love rugby.