Rugby

Here I was, concerned about what this Friday’s topic would be, when it landed in my lap:  Citizen in Times Square sponsored the London Irish, a rugby team in the Aviva Premier League in England, which was playing a game that weekend in NY against their league rivals, the Saracens.  It brought back memories of my own brief and limited experiences.

High School.   I went to high school in Paris from 1982-86.  Our school did not have an American football team (although it did have a soccer team).  Instead, we had a rugby team.  We played against other international schools.  I went on one trip to Brussels and even got to play, briefly.   I was borderline varsity/junior varsity.  The coaches didn’t seem to like me, but I did get to play in a few games.  I went to the practices like everyone else and did all the drills.  I even went to the pre-season practices against local French teams.  I did not go to any parties and was not socially a member of the team.  I DID get a varsity letter for my letter jacket.   Ironically I preferred playing soccer, but the soccer team rejected me.  Anyhow.

College.  I tried out for the University of Maryland team.  The problem was that with a Division A football team, the Terrapins, this meant UMCP had a surplus of football-inclined males with no outlet for that inclination except for this team.  So many, in fact, that UM could effectively field no less than 5 teams.  I’d have to work my way from the E team, to the D team, the C team, etc.  With few schools having enough to field more than an “A” team, I’d have to spend a lot of time practicing and no time playing.  Moreover, they gave me zero credit or acknowledgement for having played 3 years in high school.   I bought the Maryland jersey from Matt Godek, went to a few practices off campus, and injured my pinky on one drill.  Enough already.

Business School.  My brother joined the team at Thunderbird, a business school in Phoenix which specialized in international management.  His team played in a tournament at Duke, but he injured his ACL and that took care of that.  In fact, the ACL injury wound up plaguing him long after he graduated.  Anyhow.

Professional.   I was stunned to read that until the 1990s, and unlike international soccer, international rugby was militantly amateur.  Arsenal dates from the 1880s, Liverpool from 1892, and many of Brazil’s private teams from the early twentieth century.  But rugby didn’t make the switch until quite recently.  To be fair, while the NFL dates from the 1920s, it wasn’t until the advent of television in the 1950s that it finally emerged from the shadow of America’s (amateur) college football system.  Anyhow.   Now there are professional teams and leagues, with sponsors such as Citizen.

International.  The New Zealand All-Blacks are the most famous, but other countries also compete against them.  I’m not aware that the US has ever been competitive.  Any American player talented enough to play rugby would more likely be attracted to $$$ playing in the NFL.  One advantage of soccer is that with little physical contact – in theory – compared to rugby or football, smaller and lighter players who would be eaten alive in those sports can be competitive in soccer.  Practically anyone can play. 

The Game.  American football and baseball have rigidly “offense” and “defense” phases, though fumbles, interceptions or a triple play can change that.  Soccer, basketball, and hockey have rapidly fluctuating offense and defense based on who controls the ball or puck.  Rugby is much the same.  The closest to “downs” is the scrum, in which 8 men from each side interface into a tight net and the ball is rolled down between them and kicked backwards to the scrumhalf, who then passes it to the backs.

No forward passes.  All passes are backwards, but the ball can be kicked forwards.

Tries.  Instead of touchdowns, you make a “try”, for four points.  And that requires actually touching the ball down in the endzone, not merely breaking the plane of the endzone.

Rucks and Mauls.   These are like mini-scrums.   I recall practicing them.  Along with line-outs.  Unlike soccer, both teams have a shot at recovering a ball thrown back onto the field.

Forwards and backs.  I’m of medium height, broad shoulders, stocky and not particularly fast.  I fit the profile of a forward, defined by our position in the scrum.   Front-middle is the hooker, who tries to kick the ball backwards to the scrumhalf.  He’s held up by two props, the largest two men in the scrum.  So the front line is 3 men.  Behind those three are two second row, each of whom puts his head between the hindquarters of the prop and hooker and pushes forward.  On either side are flankers.  And behind the second row is the 8 man.  After the ball clears the scrum, the scrumhalf picks it up and throws it to the backs.  

My brother, tall, skinny and fast, was a back.  In football terms, the forwards are like linebackers, whereas the backs are like wide receivers, cornerbacks, safeties, and running backs. 

Most often I played flanker, (#6 or 7), which was my favorite position.  The scrum would sometimes collapse, because we were pushing forward almost parallel to the ground, and only loosely bonded.  The props and hookers of the opposing teams actually meshed together.  If the scrum collapsed, as an outside player (flanker) I could escape fairly easily.  I might have played prop a few times, but the other position I commonly played was second row.  Second row had a prop and hooker in front, flanker and another second row to the side, and 8 man behind you – if the scrum collapsed, the second row was in the middle, at least on his side. 

Padding?  No helmets or pads - only cleats.  That, and falling into the mud quite often, makes rugby a much dirtier, earthier, more primal game than football or soccer.  Rugby players are proud of this, and rightly so.  

Last thought.  I recall one game against the British School of Paris.  I don't recall actually getting to play, but I was ready to play if necessary.  I can't even remember if we won or lost.  What I do remember is the opposing coach, of course having a thick British accent, and focusing his anger and frustration on one particular hapless player: "NIGEL!  YOU BLOODY FOOL!  NIGEL!  WHAT ARE YOU DOING? NIGEL!"