My cousin Abby is dating a rugby player, J.S.. I'd never seen a rugby match before, so I decided to see one for myself. I packed my camera, hoping to catch some momentous shots on the field.
Somewhere in this sideline crowd are Abby and Ain.
As soon as I arrived, I was immediately intimidated by what I consider "competition". These guys are here to do the same thing I came to do: take pictures.
But oh, how do I compete with that lens?
Don't you need a concealed weapons permit to carry this lens around?
Alright, this guy's camera is more in my league.
And whattaya know, it's Abby with his own camera. Now, I am neck and neck with this competition!
Rugby...
Stay focused, Netty. You are here to photograph a rugby match.
In the midst of rugby groupies.
Sniff, sniff... it smells, um, "manly" here.
Yup, this pile of sweaty clothes and dirty balls...
(Abby, you get your mind out of the gutter! You too Ain!)
If anyone appreciates the aroma of a rugby match it would be this old gal.
And this gal...
Her name is Mishka. Mishka the Sharpei. Oh Mishka, those wrinkles make you look so distinguished. Your wrinkles make ME look so good.
O Miss Mastiff, you look so wise. You too make me feel beautiful.
Aaw, this gal's a sweetheart. If she could talk she'd be saying "Look Ma, a new friend! And she doesn't smell like sweaty, dirty balls!"
(Abby, Ain, I swear, your minds are so in the gutters!)
And this gal... Uh, guy?...
Yo, chamois, care to sniff some sweaty, dirty--
(That's it! Abby, Ain, the two of you are really embarassing me with your gutter thoughts! So I'll stop saying 'balls' now.)
This is Abby. Isn't he cute? He's talented too. See that beanie hat? He crocheted it.
Abby is a social butterfly.
He's pretty too, like a butterfly.
Oh, but you keep your hands to yourself because he's spoken for...
... unless you want J.S. to give you a nasty turf burn, several cracked ribs, and a concussion...
This is Ain.
Gentlemen, your attention please! THIS KNOCKOUT IS SINGLE!!! But she's very picky about her suitors, so be on your best behavior if you want your digits in her iPhone.
Sister and brother.
Social butterflies.
Um, what was I talking about? Where am I? Who is this?
What's going on???
Oh, yes, I forgot... Rugby.
It looked like football, but it wasn't. I didn't understand the rules, muchless the plays in this game. All I knew was that it looked bone breakingly painful.
I cringed with imagined pain. I mean, do you see the poor guy, on his knee, in the middle of the pile-up?
Come to find out, this formation is referred to as a "maul".
Definition: [noun] convergence of players around a ball carrier to push him and the ball forward.
(Ok, so I said I wouldn't mention the b-word again. But this is an exception because I didn't use the words "sweaty" and "dirty" in the same sentence.)
Real life example: (1) if you're in a maul, try not to fall over as it can be dangerous if it collapses. (2) you just might break your wallet if you go into a maul during Nordstom's half-yearly sale.
Oh, wait... definition #2 is for mALl, as in where credit cards get maxed out on Kate Spade and Via Spiga.
Whuh??? Netty digresses. Rugby.
RUGBY.
Maul.
Holy maulie, Hail Mary! If that were me, I'd be praying "save me from impending destruction!" Notice, no helmets or pads!
Ugh, I can't bear to watch the poor fellow's destruction anymore...
Now, this on the other hand... mm, mm, mm!
Ay nako, guapo!
Suddenly, it all became clear to me.
THIS is why Ain and Abby come to the games.
Just look at this silly girl. "Yaaay!" she squeals and claps. "Go get him! Yes, throw him down! Good job, hold him, hold him tight!"
"I love this game! It makes me feel like a woman!"
This place is like a candy store for single ladies...
Ah, just look at that head of hair!
Do you use Head & Shoulders?
Gee, Your Hair Smells Terrific!
Aw, a romantic...
Hello, meet Daniel Craig - I mean Spencer...
Spencer owns this gorgeous gal, who makes Netty feel beautiful.
And on the field...
Which reminds me... I was talking about rugby. As I said, I don't understand the plays of the game. For instance, what are they doing, group hug?
"No," said Ain. "This is called a scrum." (Wow, beauty and brains - and single! So she actually pays attention to the game, huh.)
"In a scrum, a team's eight forwards link arms, bend over and push against a similar group from the opposing team. A player from the non-offending team then throws the ball into the scrum and players try to gain possession of it by kicking it backward toward their own side. When it comes out of the scrum, it can be picked up and then passed, kicked, or carried forward to begin a new attack."
And so, my friends, that day I learned that football is a gentleman's game played by ruffians, and rugby is a ruffian's game played by gentlemen.
In summary, ladies and gentlemen, this is why Ain and Abby go to the games:
1. Fashion.
2. Thirst quenching drinks of Kool-Aid.
3. THIS.
... sweetheart...
... handsome...
... strong...
J.S.
(Hands off, this is Abmel's sweet, handsome, strong gentleman!)
Aw, aren't they just cute?!
Remember men, if you want your digits on Ain's iPhone, you have to be a gentleman. And to all the single ladies, if you want candy, go to a gentlemen's ruffian game.
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