04/27/2023
On the eve of the final game of the spring season…
Stolen but so true.
A friend asked me today, what is rugby?
Rugby is that strange sport that nobody understands but nobody dares to make fun of.
It's the first practice in the cold muddy Virginia ice shaking off the winter rust, and its the last practice of the season in the relentless rain.
It's the grizzled British coach that still drives hundreds of miles a month to supervise his men.
Rugby is nicknames like Spike, Krutch, Radio, Frozone, Papa Deer, and Irish.
It's the kid from Mexico that speaks no English, but between the lines you understand each other perfectly.
Rugby is the kid from the ghetto passing a ball to a rocket scientist, who passes it on to a 20 year Air Force veteran, backed up by a nuclear engineer and a paramedic.
It's the wise fatherly figure that has sworn every season was his last for ten years but tapes himself up, stretches and gingerly still puts on his boots for 80 minutes.
It's the teammate you spent a year playing overseas with that is now your bitter opposition on Saturday, but still one of your best friends when you see each other at work the other 6 days of the week.
It's the trips to pitches surrounded by skyscrapers, desert sand, or corn fields.
It's the stranger you meet on the street wearing a rugby shirt that you can talk to forever about the game.
Rugby is the sweet chill of a cold beer on your lips after 80 brutal minutes, and the hundreds of songs sung with your rivals at the top of your lungs in a bar you don't wear nice clothes to.
Rugby is the heroism of Mark Bingham, a long time player that refused to let terrorists win and charged the cockpit of a hijacked plane in Pennsylvania on September 11.
Rugby is the sport of men like James Naismith, Chris Farley, Russell Crowe, George Bush, Fran Tarkenton and Andre the Giant.
It's the soul crushing close season-ending loss that haunts you forever, and the exhilaration of a comeback win in a game 200 miles from home you weren't even supposed to have a chance in.
But above all, rugby is brotherhood. It's people of all colors, orientations, ethnic backgrounds, and political affiliations from all walks of life working as one. Because when the referee counts the players and signals the kickoff, none of that matters. And that, is what takes more than a few seconds to explain why this is the greatest damn sport on Earth.
Dedicated to my all of my rugby friends from around the world.
