Super-Duper Wacky n' Tacky Euro Adventure

but one little entry won't hurt.

Well, nothing hurts quite like my body does right now; due to my first rugby excursion yesterday! My day started mildly enough with a rude alarm wakening at noon. Ugh. I grabbed some grub and made it in time to meet up with the ISEP team at 1pm at school. They were in no real rush to get to the game so a few games of cards were played, lunches were finished, and almost everyone had a final cigarette before heading off to the fields. Yes, since ISEP is right smack in the middle of Paris, we have to go pretty far to play. We took the RER way out in the banlieu. I thought I was the only one whose ticket wasn't valid for going out that far, but seeing 15 twenty-somethings jump the barrier at Joinville just confused the attendant, so he just kind of ignored us. A ten miute bus ride and a trek across two soccer fields finally put us at our destination. Changing in the locker room I started to realize how under-prepared I was. I though I was fine with just a pair of cleats and my expandy-keep-me-warm underarmor shirt that I love. Not so much. About half the guys had these t-shirt pad dealy things. Some had the funny helmets that I always laugh at when watching on TV. And everyone had a mouthpiece. Of course, should have at least thought of that one. No worries, my good buddy vincent gave me one of his spare ones. Yummy.

So we finally get out to the field and I realize why these guys had won their division last season and were moving to a more competitive one. Meeting us there was a man who must have weighed a good 275, yet had a big smile on his face and beared the jolly name "baloo." He joined our pre-game warm-ups and very motiviational speeches by the team captain and coach. At least what I understood of it. The coach then let me know that because I was new, I would sit out until the second half and then go at it. I was more than OK with this as I still have no real clue as to what the more intricate rules are. So starts the game against the other sissy team in purple with no subs and seriously under-sized. Of course we only had two subs, and that kebab was really hitting my stomach right about then. I start to get a good feel for the game when about 5 minutes in, of course, the first quasi-injury (I say quasi because with only two subs, people can't really afford to stay injured for that long). And I'm in. Oh shit. People are yelling at me in French, saying things I pretend to understand and putting me in positions I can sorta feign knowing. But when I start to think about it, hey this was almost better than football. This is non-stop pounding action. So I just sorta got in there, not really caring what I did to my body, and played the game the best I knew how. This climaxed at a certain point when, coming out of a ruck, an opposition team member ligned himself up to just be eaten by me and I let him have a good one. Then, all of a sudden I hear a lot of "Ooo's" from my team and "EH!'s" from the other team. I guess some of the traditional football tackles aren't allowed in rugby. Well, the tackle actually passed my Grandpa's famous litmus test: If the ref didn't see it, it's completely legal. OK, I still apologized, and tried to watch my tackling from then on. We really dominated the first half, but only came away with a try and a field goal (whatever that is called in rugby). Then we completely ran out of steam. On another injury, this time to a much bigger man, I was placed on the front line of the scrum, and soon found out why everyone was so tired. That constant pushing gets you down. The other team simply outlasted us and got three try's in the final twenty minutes. Oy. What a bummer.

All-in-all, I was actually very impressed by the sportsmanship. Their are two-way congratulations at the end of the match and the slightest hint of someone wanting to fight on our team was immidiately mollified by fellow teammates. I was also surprised by how welcoming and supportive the ISEP team was to me. Maybe they were just being nice to me, but a bunch of them asked if I liked the game and if I would be back the next week. Gonna have to see how I feel later. So after showers and dressing, everyone, including the ref, met outside of the locker rooms to chat and have a good-luck cigarette. Oh I love these Frenchies.

The beautiful picture above are the only cool battle wounds from yesterday - a busted lip and a scratch on the face. The rest is mainly bruises and soreness in various parts of my body. This, naturally, is a bit difficult to convey in picture form.