It's that time of year again.
Time to get dressed up, have a few drinks, and get all sentimental about each other.
So, kind of like a regular Saturday then, but in nicer clothes.
It all goes off at the Sheraton on the 18th, with a fine spread courtesy of J-Wil, who runs the show over there. Good food, cheap booze - he plans to show you what it means to "Belong" at the Sheraton.
The assigned hours are 5 - 10 pm, with a program that goes something like this:
5 to 6:30 - Happy Hour
6:30 to 8 - Dinner
8 to 9 - Awards, Speeches and Hilarity
9 to 10 - Wind Down
Or for those of you more familiar with the banquet:
5 to 6 - Happy Hour
6 to 7 - Happier Hour
7 to 7:30 - Happiest Half-Hour
7:30 to 8 - Over Stimulated Half-Hour
8 - Hit The Wall
8:05 to 9 - Surly & Beligerent Hour
9 to 10 - Remorseful & Crying Hour
10 on - Begging For Forgiveness
As you can imagine, such a good time doesn't come for free, but thanks to our connections we're able to pull the whole thing off for just $25 per head. "Sweet!" you say, "I'll pay you on the night". Sure, just like you paid for the bus. Well, since the club can't support your sorry ass forever, you should take this opportunity to pay up early to avoid being tipped upside down and shaken in front of your girlfriend.
Time to get yourself paid.
For those particularly high rollers amongst you, our good pal Jay has also been able to set up a special room rate for the night so that you can crash out there, rather than into a telegraph pole on the way home. Click here to be whisked to the special page for PRFC and get booking. Act quickly though - rooms are filling up fast.
So there you have it. More fun than ought to be legal for just $25. Get your skates on to secure your spot.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Nearly Men not so nearly this time
The Red Tide wrapped up its Fall league season this past weekend with the longest of road trips to Hartford. Normally you couldn't imagine a greater a greater strain on the club than a 4-hour road trip in November at the end of a losing campaign. But not so this year, with 25 guys boarding the bus in Portland with several others traveling directly. Whatever the outcome, by this measure alone I do declare the state of our union to be in robust health.
Four hours on the bus gave us plenty of time to cover all of the pressing issues of the day, including TABOR, Evangelical hypocrisy, and whether we were better off taking sides with the Aliens or the Predators. With such weighty issues to occupy our minds the trip flew by and we soon found ourselves pulling up at the very pleasant Irish Cultural Center in Glastonbury.
Despite the long ride, Portland uncharacteristically came out of the gates at a blistering pace, no doubt proving to be a bit more of a handful than Hartford was expecting. WTF Hartford, don't you read the match reports? Just because we were 1-6, it didn't mean we were going to be a pushover.
Sure enough Portland took an early lead, after piling on the pressure and stringing together some good passes to send Dan Joyce over for the first score. Andy Nelson made the tough conversion, and Portland opened a 7-point lead.
The visitors were soon at it again, this time seeing Scotty Derrig hauled down by his collar just feet short of the line and earning us a penalty try. The conversion was a formality, and before you knew what was going on Portland had a 14-0 lead. Unfamiliar territory for a side that has more often than not been giving up early points rather than scoring them.
Hartford were clearly stung to life by this early onslaught, and soon registered their first points thanks to some confusion on a goal line clearance. They soon followed up with another score, and Portland were able to cling on to a slender lead thanks only to a missed conversion from Hartford.
Portland showed some character and struck back themselves, with Jerry Alves intercepting a midfield pass and running it back for a try under the posts. With that the scoreline stood at 21-12 in Portland's favor, although it wasn't to remain that way for long as Hartford scored again on the stroke of full time, and again only that missed conversion separated the two sides.
After the break both sides traded penalties to maintain the points gap, and then tempers that had been on a low simmer all day finally boiled over and a big fight broke out. I wont incriminate anyone by speculating as to whofrom Hartford started it, but everyone felt the need to join in, and several sub-fights broke out across the field. Clearly the ref had no idea who started it, and even after consulting with his mentor on the sidelines, he decided that both sides were equally to blame and handed out a yellow card to the Hartford Captain (oh, the shame) and Mike DeSalle. Both had five minutes to stand under the goalposts and cool off.
Whatever the body count, Portland seemed a little shell shocked after the brawl, while the Hartford side became emboldened and began running the ball hard both in the forwards and along their backline. Injuries and inexperience began to take their toll as Portland's defense fell away, ultimately yielding 22 unanswered points in the final third of the match. A disappointing end to a game that had started with such promise.
Once again it was left to the B-side to lift our spirits, who fought their way out of a two-try hole in the first half to come back and win by a score. After seemingly being out of it at half time, the Killer B's dug deep and continued to hold on to the ball well; keeping faith in their good handling and support play. The crowning moment came with just seconds to spare when Josh fed the ball to Tractor, who broke a couple of tackles before being held up and dishing to Frenchy for the final score.
Post match honors went to Evan Harding in the A Game, for being the catalyst for our first half offense, and to Murph for his B Side performance that included his first Portland try.
After driving round in circles for an hour to find Spyder a liquor store we finally hit the road for the long trek home. Thanks to Jeff Keating as always for the musical accompaniment, which always helps the trip slip by. Thanks also to the Predators for coming back to Earth to eliminate the Alien scourge, even if only for about 175 years until that run in with the Nostromo.
But I digress.
So that closes the book on another season, and another year for Portland Rugby Club. Some recent disappointments but also plenty of highs to look back on from earlier in the year. It's been a fun time, but to paraphrase Mark Twain, the longest decade of my life was the year I spent as Portland captain. It's been an honor, and I miss you all already.
Stay tuned here for news about the banquet, other club goings-on, and of course, whatever else pops into my head.
Cheers.
Four hours on the bus gave us plenty of time to cover all of the pressing issues of the day, including TABOR, Evangelical hypocrisy, and whether we were better off taking sides with the Aliens or the Predators. With such weighty issues to occupy our minds the trip flew by and we soon found ourselves pulling up at the very pleasant Irish Cultural Center in Glastonbury.
Despite the long ride, Portland uncharacteristically came out of the gates at a blistering pace, no doubt proving to be a bit more of a handful than Hartford was expecting. WTF Hartford, don't you read the match reports? Just because we were 1-6, it didn't mean we were going to be a pushover.
Sure enough Portland took an early lead, after piling on the pressure and stringing together some good passes to send Dan Joyce over for the first score. Andy Nelson made the tough conversion, and Portland opened a 7-point lead.
The visitors were soon at it again, this time seeing Scotty Derrig hauled down by his collar just feet short of the line and earning us a penalty try. The conversion was a formality, and before you knew what was going on Portland had a 14-0 lead. Unfamiliar territory for a side that has more often than not been giving up early points rather than scoring them.
Hartford were clearly stung to life by this early onslaught, and soon registered their first points thanks to some confusion on a goal line clearance. They soon followed up with another score, and Portland were able to cling on to a slender lead thanks only to a missed conversion from Hartford.
Portland showed some character and struck back themselves, with Jerry Alves intercepting a midfield pass and running it back for a try under the posts. With that the scoreline stood at 21-12 in Portland's favor, although it wasn't to remain that way for long as Hartford scored again on the stroke of full time, and again only that missed conversion separated the two sides.
After the break both sides traded penalties to maintain the points gap, and then tempers that had been on a low simmer all day finally boiled over and a big fight broke out. I wont incriminate anyone by speculating as to who
Whatever the body count, Portland seemed a little shell shocked after the brawl, while the Hartford side became emboldened and began running the ball hard both in the forwards and along their backline. Injuries and inexperience began to take their toll as Portland's defense fell away, ultimately yielding 22 unanswered points in the final third of the match. A disappointing end to a game that had started with such promise.
Once again it was left to the B-side to lift our spirits, who fought their way out of a two-try hole in the first half to come back and win by a score. After seemingly being out of it at half time, the Killer B's dug deep and continued to hold on to the ball well; keeping faith in their good handling and support play. The crowning moment came with just seconds to spare when Josh fed the ball to Tractor, who broke a couple of tackles before being held up and dishing to Frenchy for the final score.
Post match honors went to Evan Harding in the A Game, for being the catalyst for our first half offense, and to Murph for his B Side performance that included his first Portland try.
After driving round in circles for an hour to find Spyder a liquor store we finally hit the road for the long trek home. Thanks to Jeff Keating as always for the musical accompaniment, which always helps the trip slip by. Thanks also to the Predators for coming back to Earth to eliminate the Alien scourge, even if only for about 175 years until that run in with the Nostromo.
But I digress.
So that closes the book on another season, and another year for Portland Rugby Club. Some recent disappointments but also plenty of highs to look back on from earlier in the year. It's been a fun time, but to paraphrase Mark Twain, the longest decade of my life was the year I spent as Portland captain. It's been an honor, and I miss you all already.
Stay tuned here for news about the banquet, other club goings-on, and of course, whatever else pops into my head.
Cheers.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Another side receives mandatory Portland scare
The woulda, coulda, shouldas were being rolled out again this past Saturday night as league leaders Burlington escaped with a 15-11 win, and Portland collected another solitary "near miss" bonus point to add to its tally.
Given the late Fall monsoon that was blowing by, the games had been moved to the Fairgrounds; scene of plenty of past Portland heroics. The Pulling Shed once again served as changing room / warm up facility, but I use the term "warm up" in only a figurative sense.
The first half was dominated by Burlington, as they scored three tries due to some lackluster defense and some strong running by the visiting forwards. Portland managed to stay in touch however, thanks to a couple of penalty kicks from Matt Winch and three missed conversions by Burlington. 15-6 the score at half time.
A number of substitutions were made at half time that brought some added strength to the Portland pack, along with a little more beef (and pork) in the midfield. With these in place, Portland was able to guarantee a more reliable supply of ball from the scrum, although lineouts remained a crapshoot in the howling gale.
Portland soon began to pressure the Burlington line, although for a while the slippery conditions meant that a knock-on was more likely to occur before any breakthrough. Eventually however a stable platform was established from a scrum under the Burlington posts, and the ball was worked weak to find itself in the hands of Scotty Derrig, who slipped through to score. The conversion attempt was, not surprisingly, held up in the wind, so the scoreline crept only to 15-11.
Sensing some hesitation from Burlington, the home side continued to pile on the pressure, although again, given the conditions, moving the ball about with any fluency proved impossible. To their credit, despite many goal line mauls that Portland tried to push in, Burlington held them all up and turned them away. In the end, with a limited number of attacking options this saga of immeasurable force meeting immovable object ground to a stalemate and time ran out before either side was able to come up with any other ideas.
Another weekend, and another day pushing that rock up hill. Sisyphus would have been proud.
Once again however, the ray of metaphorical sunshine came from the Killer B's, who took the field with such excitement that you'd have no idea they'd been standing in the rain getting soaked for the preceding 80 minutes.
Burlington however did not display the same enthusiasm, and started the game with only 9-10 players, as the rest had all disappeared indoors to get dry. Gradually their consciences got the better of them, and they filtered back on to the field, only to encounter the fired up B's.
Despite the fact that the game was shortened to what seemed like 10-minute halves, Josh managed a brace of tries and Ryan scored another, while Burlington seemed more interested in when it was all going to be over. Another strong performance from the B's, which only bodes well for the future of the club.
Once everyone had dried off as best they could, it was back to Bleachers to share a pint with our opponents. Oh, wait...that's right, Burlington split before anyone could say goodbye, no doubt still mad about that biting incident from a hundred years ago.
So, for once, there was enough food to go around, and plenty of room to mingle. A side man-of-the-match went to Mike DeSalle, who came on at the half and proved that the game still needs him. B side honors and special mention went to Josh for his strong performance in both games, but he was out in the car, ahem..."medicating" at the time, so his shot went elsewhere.
Portland take the long trip to Hartford this weekend for their final game of the year. A bus has been laid on, so all fans and friends are welcome to tag along. Watch this space for more details.
Given the late Fall monsoon that was blowing by, the games had been moved to the Fairgrounds; scene of plenty of past Portland heroics. The Pulling Shed once again served as changing room / warm up facility, but I use the term "warm up" in only a figurative sense.
The first half was dominated by Burlington, as they scored three tries due to some lackluster defense and some strong running by the visiting forwards. Portland managed to stay in touch however, thanks to a couple of penalty kicks from Matt Winch and three missed conversions by Burlington. 15-6 the score at half time.
A number of substitutions were made at half time that brought some added strength to the Portland pack, along with a little more beef (and pork) in the midfield. With these in place, Portland was able to guarantee a more reliable supply of ball from the scrum, although lineouts remained a crapshoot in the howling gale.
Portland soon began to pressure the Burlington line, although for a while the slippery conditions meant that a knock-on was more likely to occur before any breakthrough. Eventually however a stable platform was established from a scrum under the Burlington posts, and the ball was worked weak to find itself in the hands of Scotty Derrig, who slipped through to score. The conversion attempt was, not surprisingly, held up in the wind, so the scoreline crept only to 15-11.
Sensing some hesitation from Burlington, the home side continued to pile on the pressure, although again, given the conditions, moving the ball about with any fluency proved impossible. To their credit, despite many goal line mauls that Portland tried to push in, Burlington held them all up and turned them away. In the end, with a limited number of attacking options this saga of immeasurable force meeting immovable object ground to a stalemate and time ran out before either side was able to come up with any other ideas.
Another weekend, and another day pushing that rock up hill. Sisyphus would have been proud.
Once again however, the ray of metaphorical sunshine came from the Killer B's, who took the field with such excitement that you'd have no idea they'd been standing in the rain getting soaked for the preceding 80 minutes.
Burlington however did not display the same enthusiasm, and started the game with only 9-10 players, as the rest had all disappeared indoors to get dry. Gradually their consciences got the better of them, and they filtered back on to the field, only to encounter the fired up B's.
Despite the fact that the game was shortened to what seemed like 10-minute halves, Josh managed a brace of tries and Ryan scored another, while Burlington seemed more interested in when it was all going to be over. Another strong performance from the B's, which only bodes well for the future of the club.
Once everyone had dried off as best they could, it was back to Bleachers to share a pint with our opponents. Oh, wait...that's right, Burlington split before anyone could say goodbye, no doubt still mad about that biting incident from a hundred years ago.
So, for once, there was enough food to go around, and plenty of room to mingle. A side man-of-the-match went to Mike DeSalle, who came on at the half and proved that the game still needs him. B side honors and special mention went to Josh for his strong performance in both games, but he was out in the car, ahem..."medicating" at the time, so his shot went elsewhere.
Portland take the long trip to Hartford this weekend for their final game of the year. A bus has been laid on, so all fans and friends are welcome to tag along. Watch this space for more details.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Normal Service to resume ASAP
Phew! Been sooooo busy at the office, as you can see. There's just been no time for a match report.
Strike!
Also, a slight misunderstanding with the censors has kept me under house arrest for a few days, but that all seems to have been cleared up now. Thank goodness - almost a whole week without spouting off and I was beginning to go into limelight withdrawls.
So let freedom ring! Yes, I will blog you your blog sir, one more time. Just don't mention the you-know-what in the comments. K?
Strike!
Also, a slight misunderstanding with the censors has kept me under house arrest for a few days, but that all seems to have been cleared up now. Thank goodness - almost a whole week without spouting off and I was beginning to go into limelight withdrawls.
So let freedom ring! Yes, I will blog you your blog sir, one more time. Just don't mention the you-know-what in the comments. K?
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Vintage Portland
From the Portland news archives comes this scratchy piece of footage of some unknown players running in a try, appropriately enough against Burlington. Circa 2001 and filmed in classic Amateurovision, you can just make out a mugging going on before the assailants take flight and disappear into the distance. I understand that no charges were ever pressed.
An underwhelming reward is available to anyone who can name the four perps, or the two other witnesses who are still alive and might actually still be found on a rugby pitch today (i.e. active player). Please use the anonymous tip line below.
Apologies to Bono for the 18 seconds of screaming that we borrowed without paying for. We...erm...sent the royalty check to some starving kids in Africa, but then Madonna adopted them and we lost track of it after that. Sorryboutcha.
An underwhelming reward is available to anyone who can name the four perps, or the two other witnesses who are still alive and might actually still be found on a rugby pitch today (i.e. active player). Please use the anonymous tip line below.
Apologies to Bono for the 18 seconds of screaming that we borrowed without paying for. We...erm...sent the royalty check to some starving kids in Africa, but then Madonna adopted them and we lost track of it after that. Sorryboutcha.
Monday, October 23, 2006
Why We Write
Sorry Dom, I may not have tails of Portland success to regale you with this week, but snark I've got in abundance. Having gone down to South Shore and given up a slim early-second half lead to record another tough loss, they then have the temerity to ask why we publish our match reports. The implication here is that we give away too much of ourselves by publishing our exploits (or lack thereof) for everyone to see.
This has sent my in to an uncharacteristic fit of soul searching, wondering if, by my actions, I have somehow been responsible for the record that it has become my increasingly solemn duty to report each week. Well, after the five minutes that it took to search the very depths of my character (which included time to make a sandwich), I've concluded that there is probably lots that I have done (or not done) to contribute to our record, but that writing and publishing match reports is pretty low down on the list. I fully intend to "go off" on this subject in a moment, but for those without a taste for self-righteous indignation, of if you're from Burlington or Hartford and just want to pick up some juicy facts for the coming weeks, here are the deets from this past weekend:
"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns". Ah, George Eliot...how he/she so eloquently captures the beauty of the seasons. Oh, wait...that's right...I'm supposed to be giving away club secrets, not waxing lyrical.
So it was sunny and windy, and it was nice. Both sides were well matched through the first half although South Shore scored first when their winger broke through to score underneath the posts, giving the home side a 7-point lead. Within 10 minutes Portland struck back after passing the ball through several pairs of hands to send Hannes diving over for another try to add to his growing tally. 7-7 at half time.
Early in the Second Half Portland pressured the South Shore line again, but had to settle for a penalty and a slim 10-7 lead. Although this pressure continued, the advantage began to slip as South Shore made some shrewd substitutions that added further beef to their already strong pack. As the game drew in to the final quarter the South Shore dominance up front was almost complete, which ultimately yielded two scores through concerted forward pressure. Final score 21-10.
There then. I defy our remaining opponents to glean much tactical advantage from a write up like that. You could get a wealth more knowledge from a couple of well placed e-mails around the league than you ever could from the well-worn cliches that I churn out. Hell, you could read the ref's report for that matter.
Of course, it could be different (and worse, for our opponents). I could have chosen to write about South Shore's lineout preferences and the best way to combat them. Indeed, there are any number of juicy tidbits about South Shore or any of the other teams that we have played that I could have posted up here in our match reports, but I think you'll find that my style leans more towards the prosaic than the factual. That's just how I roll.
So why do I bother? Well, other than the pleasure derived from mental masturbation, I like to think that the match report offers some kind of catharsis for those involved, and helps keep the club together, particularly during the times when things might not be going so well. Hopefully the broader Portland Rugby community, who may no longer be playing, but who may still be interested in the fortunes of the club, are also kept sufficiently interested so that when the time comes to pass the hat or scrape up an Old Boys team they will answer the call.
So as I plow this lonely furrow of match reports and random rambling, and cast my gaze across the sites of our competitors, I can't help but think that the impression elsewhere is one of dereliction. I'm sure, in fact I know, that many of our fellow clubs are vibrant beneath the surface, but are wenoy not [thanks, Jimmy] all in the end in the business of marketing ourselves to prospective players? Personally speaking, if all you have in "Club News" is your paintball outing in March, last year's banquet or some cursory reference to your latest result, I can't help but find it all a bit lacking. Shouldn't there be some kind of virtual tumbleweed blowing across these scenes?
We're lucky here in Portland that there aren't too many other choices for playing rugby, so even those lads with too short of an attention span to read all this rubbish will probably end up playing with us anyway. But in a competitive recruitment environment like Boston, I'd think that displaying a little activity on your website might go a long way. It may sound a bit gay, but I think most of us are in this to nourish our souls as well as meet our physical need to run around and hit things, so a spark of personality might go a long way.
In the end, this probably represents the biggest change I've seen in Division II in the year that we were away. For all its shortcomings, Division III was a more vibrant community, from the Wolfhounds to Middlesex to Seacaost. For all the intensity of competition, they were for the most part, as they say at the 'hounds, "in it for the craic". All of this new found seriousness in DII brings a smirk to my face, and it seems to come from a lack of perspective. We are all, after all, playing a modest level of rugby in what some might call a third-world rugby nation. I think that makes us more like missionaries than anything else. As boys we all watched our favorite athletes on TV (or for some of you, your favorite dance routines on Broadway), and we tried to copy them, but it was all just play-acting in the end.
Sorry, I lost my way a bit there. Of course, were we 5-1 instead of 1-5, you might say that I'd be singing a different song, and the website would be as tight lipped as a Tony Snow press conference. But I'd be the first to admit that writing all this crap is above all self-indulgent, so until the club slaps me with a muzzle order I'd like to think that I'd keep spouting off, regardless of our record.
My old pal Oscar Wilde noted that, "It is a curious fact that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves seriously." Some might say that this blog is a case in point.
Your are now free to post your vitriolic response below.
P.S. The Killer B's either won, lost or tied; but whatever it was, it was close. It looked like two tries for each side to me. A side man-of-the-match honors went to Scotty Derrig, getting it done at full back, and B side honors went to Ed Lutjens for scoring the final try in the B game, that might have won it...or tied it...or not.
This has sent my in to an uncharacteristic fit of soul searching, wondering if, by my actions, I have somehow been responsible for the record that it has become my increasingly solemn duty to report each week. Well, after the five minutes that it took to search the very depths of my character (which included time to make a sandwich), I've concluded that there is probably lots that I have done (or not done) to contribute to our record, but that writing and publishing match reports is pretty low down on the list. I fully intend to "go off" on this subject in a moment, but for those without a taste for self-righteous indignation, of if you're from Burlington or Hartford and just want to pick up some juicy facts for the coming weeks, here are the deets from this past weekend:
"Delicious autumn! My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns". Ah, George Eliot...how he/she so eloquently captures the beauty of the seasons. Oh, wait...that's right...I'm supposed to be giving away club secrets, not waxing lyrical.
So it was sunny and windy, and it was nice. Both sides were well matched through the first half although South Shore scored first when their winger broke through to score underneath the posts, giving the home side a 7-point lead. Within 10 minutes Portland struck back after passing the ball through several pairs of hands to send Hannes diving over for another try to add to his growing tally. 7-7 at half time.
Early in the Second Half Portland pressured the South Shore line again, but had to settle for a penalty and a slim 10-7 lead. Although this pressure continued, the advantage began to slip as South Shore made some shrewd substitutions that added further beef to their already strong pack. As the game drew in to the final quarter the South Shore dominance up front was almost complete, which ultimately yielded two scores through concerted forward pressure. Final score 21-10.
There then. I defy our remaining opponents to glean much tactical advantage from a write up like that. You could get a wealth more knowledge from a couple of well placed e-mails around the league than you ever could from the well-worn cliches that I churn out. Hell, you could read the ref's report for that matter.
Of course, it could be different (and worse, for our opponents). I could have chosen to write about South Shore's lineout preferences and the best way to combat them. Indeed, there are any number of juicy tidbits about South Shore or any of the other teams that we have played that I could have posted up here in our match reports, but I think you'll find that my style leans more towards the prosaic than the factual. That's just how I roll.
So why do I bother? Well, other than the pleasure derived from mental masturbation, I like to think that the match report offers some kind of catharsis for those involved, and helps keep the club together, particularly during the times when things might not be going so well. Hopefully the broader Portland Rugby community, who may no longer be playing, but who may still be interested in the fortunes of the club, are also kept sufficiently interested so that when the time comes to pass the hat or scrape up an Old Boys team they will answer the call.
So as I plow this lonely furrow of match reports and random rambling, and cast my gaze across the sites of our competitors, I can't help but think that the impression elsewhere is one of dereliction. I'm sure, in fact I know, that many of our fellow clubs are vibrant beneath the surface, but are we
We're lucky here in Portland that there aren't too many other choices for playing rugby, so even those lads with too short of an attention span to read all this rubbish will probably end up playing with us anyway. But in a competitive recruitment environment like Boston, I'd think that displaying a little activity on your website might go a long way. It may sound a bit gay, but I think most of us are in this to nourish our souls as well as meet our physical need to run around and hit things, so a spark of personality might go a long way.
In the end, this probably represents the biggest change I've seen in Division II in the year that we were away. For all its shortcomings, Division III was a more vibrant community, from the Wolfhounds to Middlesex to Seacaost. For all the intensity of competition, they were for the most part, as they say at the 'hounds, "in it for the craic". All of this new found seriousness in DII brings a smirk to my face, and it seems to come from a lack of perspective. We are all, after all, playing a modest level of rugby in what some might call a third-world rugby nation. I think that makes us more like missionaries than anything else. As boys we all watched our favorite athletes on TV (or for some of you, your favorite dance routines on Broadway), and we tried to copy them, but it was all just play-acting in the end.
Sorry, I lost my way a bit there. Of course, were we 5-1 instead of 1-5, you might say that I'd be singing a different song, and the website would be as tight lipped as a Tony Snow press conference. But I'd be the first to admit that writing all this crap is above all self-indulgent, so until the club slaps me with a muzzle order I'd like to think that I'd keep spouting off, regardless of our record.
My old pal Oscar Wilde noted that, "It is a curious fact that people are never so trivial as when they take themselves seriously." Some might say that this blog is a case in point.
Your are now free to post your vitriolic response below.
P.S. The Killer B's either won, lost or tied; but whatever it was, it was close. It looked like two tries for each side to me. A side man-of-the-match honors went to Scotty Derrig, getting it done at full back, and B side honors went to Ed Lutjens for scoring the final try in the B game, that might have won it...or tied it...or not.
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