My old rugby 'daze'

thOroughly mOdern cOlin is one of my favourite blogs. Colin's recent posting Drowning in Bikram is typical of his witty writing. As well as enjoying this posting, I was reminded of my own schoolboy rugby career.



Actually to call it a 'career' is a gross overstatement. I attended a Greater Public School (GPS) where, like Colin's Catholic school, rugby was this obligatory religion to be pursued by every boy willingly or otherwise. I always hoped there was some dispensation for being a sissy, cowardly and totally uncoordinated but these characteristics were deemed insufficient to avoid involvement in 'the game they play in heaven'.

For eight schoolboy seasons in succession I endured my own private hell on all manner of cold, wet, muddy, cement-like football fields. I spent all my time avoiding football action at all costs. Wherever the ball was, I made sure I wasn't. In eight seasons I believe I never once handled or kicked the ball. I certainly don't recall ever tackling a player.

Unfortunately I couldn't avoid being tackled as there was always an opposing player who thought it would be fun to tackle the sissy regardless of whether or not I was near the play or the ball. This only caused me to be even more fervent in my attempts to avoid any involvement in actual play.

I would have thought the logical position for a coach to place me in (apart from the old joke position of Left Right Out) would be on the wing where I would mostly be legitimately out of the play. Unfortunately, I matched in height the only prop forward we had who knew how to play so coach made me the other prop forward. I had to play in the scrums!

How I hated those scrums, pushing and shoving and having my hair pulled by monstrous opponents. I was a naive boy but I was shrewd enough not to complain or let on to the others how I felt as it would only have encouraged ridicule and attention. I tried to be invisible.

The one skill I developed, spending all that time running away from the play, was that I became a fast runner and actually did well at school athletics as a result.

I did learn one lesson from those unhappy seasons of football. I used to fancy the dreamier looking of my schoolmates and tended not to take notice of those who in my judgement did not have perfect features and faces. That was until one day in the showers I noticed that one of the plainer looking and slightly chubby boys, as it turns out more developed than the rest of us, possessed the most astonishing manhood package I had seen to that time. I never ignored the plainer boys again.



Eventually, the school admitted defeat and 'retired' me as player, turning me into the school touch judge. (Boundary umpire, for those Southern states' readers who cannot imagine any football code played on a rectangular field.) Unfortunately I was no more successful as a touch judge as I couldn't remember nor understand the rules of the game.

This year I attended a lunch with some old boys I hadn't seen since we left school 43 years ago and I was mortified when one of them remarked that he still remembered me as a touch judge with my long skinny legs and small white shorts. I must have been the gayest touch judge in the GPS competition.



I was no more successful at schoolboy cricket. I couldn't hit the ball with my bat, nor hold a catch, nor throw a ball accurately. My captains could hide me in the field most times but inevitably the ball would eventually come my way. I did actually take a catch once, to my astonishment and to the utter amazement of my teammates who had become accustomed to my total lack of ability.

They all groaned when under schoolboy rules I eventually had to be given an over to bowl. My bowling was peppered with wides, no balls and long hops. Wise umpires soon learnt to wait a decent time before declaring I had bowled the eight legitimate deliveries needed in those days to complete an over. I became convinced I was the reason why Australia changed later to six ball overs.

Surprisingly after such an inglorious and disinterested schoolboy sports 'career', in adulthood I have become a knowledgeable and keen sports follower. As a child I could never have imagined such a transition in my life.