The Points of Rugby

What is the point of rugby?
What does it mean to play?
Is it war without the shooting
or a poetic, artistic ballet?
We can liken rugby to dancing
without the music I’ll agree
but I find it just as enchanting
despite lacking choreography.
A game is actually a wonderful show
full of drama, wit and grace;
would be just like Swan Lake or Rigoletto
if they smashed each other in the face!
I remember us as one big family –
committee, forwards and backs
refs, coaches, water boys
and the man who carried the bags.

They say it’s a game for retards,
(maybe not a bad call)
for who else but an Englishman
would invent an oval ball?
Rugby players are of two types
they say:- pianists or baboons,
please forgive this bit of self-hype
but I was one who played a tune.

Ahh exciting memories of playing.

Are things as they were in yesteryear?
when the points we pursued were of spirit,
and the pints consumed were cider and beer
which oiled joints – made black comedy explicit!
For we needed three things back in the day
to avoid ‘the yard’ and withering abuse
one – a good pass, B. – a good tackle
but first, a fuckin good excuse.

In my day we never lost
though sometimes we ran out of time.
It was never our fault of course
that referees were all blind.
My friend, Simon Derret was once a ref
in a game I played outside half.
The opposition wore green that day
so Caerleon took the field in black.
I remember their centre – knocked the ball on
“Scrum down – black put-in” screamed Si
“Black Pudding?” I quizzed, and he stopped the game
laughing so hard I thought he would die!!
The point about the man in the middle
for all their virtues and inexplicable sins
is the problem with all referees
is they don’t care which side wins!

So – what is the point of rugby?
What can we gain from the game?
Well I learned so much and had so many laughs
without it, I wouldn’t be the same.
I learned the more I sweat in training
the less I bleed in the fray
and the breakfast of those who’ll be champions
is the opposition you’ll meet that day.

With my lunatic, hospital workmates –
(yes, that comma is carefully placed)
I learned a team can become a brotherhood
and forge friendships never erased.
At Taff’s Well I learned how rugby
strips away pretension and
brings the white bone of character to the fore
and Caerleon taught me about the will to win and
that the will to prepare matters more.

To current players, I’ll say only this
when you’re down on the field – and bereft
tho you may be 40 or more points adrift
you can still win the minute that’s left.