I don't know about you, but I'm exhausted.
I've spent a weekend watching rugby -one game having a slightly more higher profile than the other though.....
Yesterday's game was in Leicestershire where my elder son won man of the match scoring 17 points. Standing on the sidelines, squinting in the sunshine and feeling elated as he ran and scored a try, feeling frightened as I saw him at the bottom of heap of tangled bodies on the ground....and relieved at the end when he came off the pitch without being injured.
Being a rugby mum isn't easy - that queasy feeling of anticipation, pride and worry never goes away no matter how many matches I watch my son play.
Watching the Rugby world cup over the last few months has been a completely different ball game altogether.Sitting in front of the telly cheering on England , shouting at the referee ,jumping up for joy when we scored. screaming in frustration when we lost...it's been addictive but relatively pain free.
And this morning , it's been a joy to watch New Zealand play France .There's been blood,guts and a primeval pleasure watching thirty athletes at their physical peak ,who are primed and pumped for 80 minutes of gladatorial action.
Running , tackling , rucking, mauling ,these are what I call real men....not the poncy metrosexuals who waft around a pitch for 90 minutes chasing a round ball, who cry and throw themselves on the ground when another player comes near.
Quite a few of my friends are now converts to the more beautiful game - and it's the men who've converted them. Their pecs and abs defined in the tight fitting rugby shirts , their height,strength ,power and sheer physicality
are attracting my friends' attention - no matter what team they play for.
The French team may have lost this morning,but in a quick straw poll amongst the girls, the French were fitter in more ways than one.(Rougerie,Dusatoir and Szarzewski warranting special attention).
The world cup is over for another four years, but in the meantime I think I can persuade my friends to start coming down to watch the Leicester Tigers with me at Welford Road. A superb rugby team, who'll supply enough drama, testosterone and players in their prime of physical perfection to keep them entertained until 2015.
Today's soundtrack has to be Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple -an old song but it gets me going as the Tigers come out onto the pitch at every home game.
I've spent a weekend watching rugby -one game having a slightly more higher profile than the other though.....
Yesterday's game was in Leicestershire where my elder son won man of the match scoring 17 points. Standing on the sidelines, squinting in the sunshine and feeling elated as he ran and scored a try, feeling frightened as I saw him at the bottom of heap of tangled bodies on the ground....and relieved at the end when he came off the pitch without being injured.
Being a rugby mum isn't easy - that queasy feeling of anticipation, pride and worry never goes away no matter how many matches I watch my son play.
Watching the Rugby world cup over the last few months has been a completely different ball game altogether.Sitting in front of the telly cheering on England , shouting at the referee ,jumping up for joy when we scored. screaming in frustration when we lost...it's been addictive but relatively pain free.
And this morning , it's been a joy to watch New Zealand play France .There's been blood,guts and a primeval pleasure watching thirty athletes at their physical peak ,who are primed and pumped for 80 minutes of gladatorial action.
Running , tackling , rucking, mauling ,these are what I call real men....not the poncy metrosexuals who waft around a pitch for 90 minutes chasing a round ball, who cry and throw themselves on the ground when another player comes near.
Quite a few of my friends are now converts to the more beautiful game - and it's the men who've converted them. Their pecs and abs defined in the tight fitting rugby shirts , their height,strength ,power and sheer physicality
are attracting my friends' attention - no matter what team they play for.
The French team may have lost this morning,but in a quick straw poll amongst the girls, the French were fitter in more ways than one.(Rougerie,Dusatoir and Szarzewski warranting special attention).
The world cup is over for another four years, but in the meantime I think I can persuade my friends to start coming down to watch the Leicester Tigers with me at Welford Road. A superb rugby team, who'll supply enough drama, testosterone and players in their prime of physical perfection to keep them entertained until 2015.
Today's soundtrack has to be Smoke on the Water by Deep Purple -an old song but it gets me going as the Tigers come out onto the pitch at every home game.
Congrats on being the mum of the man of the match and well done for having the stomach to go and watch. I'd be cowering in a corner! I'm afraid, even with the pecs and abs, Rugby isn't my favourite game and is it any wonder! What was that you said about guts? Yuk!!
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