I was officially attending my first Rugby game as a guest of a friend who had VIP passes. I had never much given any thought to the sport. Other than having seen an episode of Friends where Ross gets seriously beat up during his first/and last game of Rugby. So when I received the invitation from my new friend, whose company sponsors the event, I couldn’t turn it down.
Then the game play began.
What an odd game I must say: scrum, drop goal, crash tackle. Even the terminology of the game is brutal and nasty. American football terms seem so much nicer: huddle, touchdown, kick-off. One would think it is the Rugby guys who would need the padding!
The fans cheered a familiar cheer that I have heard in ever sport game I have every attended as they waved either pink or yellow flags representing their chosen team. Following the 80 minutes of the kind of excitement that defines most sporting events we returned to the VIP soiree to congratulate the winning team: Stade de France of Paris! In the end we weren’t able to properly meet the big, burly rugby guys as they were busy filling their tired bodies with the array of food that had been set up for them. So instead I perused the dessert table and snacked on the fancy (however bizarre) creations that lay among the pink vased flowers on the elegant white linen. As midnight approached I thanked my host and headed back to the city and my cozy little studio with a hell of a view.
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