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Soccer mom makes move to rugger hugger
by Laura Hill, columnist for the Tennessean
March 20, 2002- Until a couple of weeks ago, all
I knew about rugby was that it often involves blood and that, as I recollect,
college rugby players drink beer before, during and after games.
I never knew that both Bill Clinton and George W. Bush
played rugby as students (you'll have to ask them about the beer thing).
Never dreamed the United States is the defending Olympic champion, having
won the gold the last time rugby was an Olympic sport - in 1924. And I
certainly couldn't have told you what a blind side flanker does.
Of course, I still can't tell you much about blind side
flankers, or loosehead props or hookers for that matter, except that they're
all player positions. But I am negotiating a fast learning curve that
should have me comprehending the basics sometime before the high school
season ends in a few weeks.
It's a shame, really. Having watched two children play
2,347 soccer games (record: 4-2, 329-14), I had accumulated a vast storehouse
of useful information. I not only know the price of a Snickers bar and
a cup of coffee at every concession stand in the southeast, I can spot
an offsides play.
Now, all that's as useless as last year's television
schedule. My youngest soccer player has become a rugby player, and I'm
at sea in the bleachers again, squinting and wondering why the whistle
blew.
We've played and won two games this season, but even
that hasn't made much of a dent in my rugby ignorance, though I've deduced
that the game seems to be a hybrid of soccer and American football, with
some plain orneriness tossed in.
For example, instead of scrimmage, rugby players have a scrummage, in
which a pile of players holds on to each other's arms and legs and waists
and pushes a similar pile of the other team's players until a football
pops out and someone grabs it and runs.
Like football, players can run with the ball, but unlike
football, they can only pass it backward. Defenders can't tackle anybody
but the ball carrier, who must let go of the ball when he hits he ground,
so that everybody can jump on top of one another trying to recapture it.
Yeah, I'm confused too.
There are many scary things about this game, or at least
scary names like "mauls" and "rucks" and, although
Gatorade, not beer, is the beverage of choice, the play can get a little
rough and tumble.
On the field there's enough testosterone in the air that
you'd sprout whiskers if you walked out there. But rugby still gets my
vote as a sport perfectly designed for the high school male, 80 minutes
of camaraderie, tradition, grunting, sweating, shouting, hand slapping
and falling down in a heap.
Now that's some serious fun.
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