This week I played in my first ever rugby tournament. I was the starting wing on the third team. Now to toot my own horn for a second, I am an excellent athlete. I was on every all star baseball team from 3rd grade to 8th grade. I was on a team ranked 4th in the nation. I started playing soccer in 10th grade. In 11th grade I made honorable mention all area, 12th grade I made first team all area and honorable mention all state. So the idea that I’m playing third fiddle behind several people infuriates me. Even though it’s a game I don’t understand and don’t know all the rules of, I still want to be the best and I expect myself to be the best. Sometimes competitiveness is a pain in the ass. Before the first game I got the same excitement as I did when I played football. It’s a feeling in the pit of my stomach. I remain calm on the outside but prepare myself for contact.
The first game I played in was against the Valley Boys, though this team is made of Rehoboth Falcon. I got in on a few tackles but I never actually got the ball. We lost the game 10-8. They scored a try in the final minutes and we had an opportunity to win but didn’t convert a penalty kick. The second game was against Kudu from Windhoek. I finally got the ball in this game. I carried the ball about 10 meters and then was tackled. A few moments later we scored a try. We got a penalty kick after that and had 10 points. I was taken out in the second half and we ended up losing 11 to 10. I like to think it was because they took me out. The third game was Rehoboth’s second team against the third team. The second team came out presumptuous that they would win and we would roll over. We came out and scored 8 points quickly and held them to nothing going into the half. I was taken out at half again after making a few tackles. After a few minutes out the coach called me over and I started playing for the second team because one of their players was injured. It made me feel awesome because there were several other wings that could’ve moved to the second team but I was the one asked to play. The third team won 8 to 7 but I got to celebrate either way. Point differential was calculated and the second team was allowed to go to the semi finals. I was allowed to play with the second team for the semi finals.
In the semi finals it was Rehoboth’s first team versus their second team. I went in with high spirits considering the third team just beat the second team. However, I was quickly proven wrong. They murdered us up and down the field for two 10 minute halves. These guys know their rugby and they know each other. It was easy to tell these guys have all played together for at least 5 years. Experience beats talent 95% of the time. By the end of the game my knees were scraped, my lip was bleeding, my nose bled a bit, and I could taste blood in my mouth. It’s been a long time since I felt like that. It was a good feeling. The final match for us was against a team from Cape Town. They declared they were tired and they forfeited. I didn’t know if I had anything left but I would’ve found out. They were tired and I can’t blame them. Cape Town is 20 hours or so from Reho. The Rehoboth second team finished third in the tournament. The final game was the Valley Boys versus Rehoboth’s first team. Our first team won 11 to 6. I was invited out with the guys to celebrate but I was far too tired and sore to do much more than eat and sleep.
Oh yeah, during the second game I was kicked in the head after I was tackled. I was a bit surprised when it happened but looking back on it, it wasn’t a cheap shot or anything like that. I was on the ground a guy trying to protect me kicked me in the head. I have a nice bruise next to my left eye and my eye is a bit red. Let the good times roll.
