Like the song says ... "Saturday is a rugby day" ... and so ... I played rugby. I played at hooker, wore the number 2 jersey and felt pretty good for the game. It was pretty freaking warm by the end of the game. We won, by the way. With some help from a rather odd referee and fitness.
I tried to work on specific things in this game, most notably my tackling. I did not miss any big tackles, I made one rather important one on our five meter line, stopping a try coming from their line out. We won our scrums and won a few of theirs, thanks to me being a lot stronger in the second half of the game than their hooker. However, I was disappointed in my throwing in the line out. Everything else was decent.
90 minutes of that was enough. I did some stretching after the game, got to a local gas station for a 1.5l bottle of chilled water and got my butt home to get to my brother's place for a family thing. I didn't pee until much much later.
Which is kinda scary when you think about it.
Anyway, I promised my kids to get them up early Sunday to go to the beach.
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