I believe a sense of place is a personal fortress, so I
would like to explain briefly why rugby, for me is that place.
I began playing at eight years old for my local team, my
brother also played for this team in a higher age bracket, and my father was an
avid rugby fan. At such an age you are only exposed to the children that you
see day in day out at school, but all of a sudden on Sunday mornings you find
yourself on (usually) cold, dismal and wet days with a bunch of others of your
age from schools you haven’t even heard of, some as far as fifteen miles away,
light years for an eight year old! This is how lifelong friendships are
created.
But every Sunday this prevailed, dad’s would surround the
pitches, catching up with one another on a weekly basis , discussions on rugby,
the government and cars were all familiar topics. The same applied for them,
once a week they could look forward to seeing other fathers to catch up and put the world to its rights, and before
long the mothers were involved too, screams at the opposition of “get off my
boy” were often heard. A family day out on muddy pitches and cups of tea gone
cold.
This went on for several years into adolescence. A
transition would take place, all of a sudden the same group of boys brought
together by their fathers were no longer playing this simply to see your pals,
competitiveness was introduced by mother nature, a drive to win, get one over
on the opposition and hold bragging rights over the region, made all the more
sweet because you were doing it with your friends. The friends you would never
have known if not for this game called rugby.
That is but a brief history of how my rugby life began, and I
know it is very similar for people globally.
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