Bizarrely he was responsible for my later baptism of mire and coached me as a grown-up. He explained that he always knew I’d be a rugby player but he was waiting for the right time to introduce me to the sport. Knob.
Anyway, did rugby grab you at school? Or did your old man / older brother introduce you? Or did your PE teacher see an opportunity to give you some 1:1 coaching, and cornered you behind the changing rooms with a jar of Vaseline and a ridged tracksuit bottom..?
Rummage around in that sticky grey stuff twixt yer lugs and share stories of the violation of your egg-chasing hymen.
Shamelessly C&Ped from that fred...
My introduction to rugby (which I’d never played nor watched; given I’m 6’5”, tells you all you need to know about our inept PE teacher) was being pressganged into playing 2nd row in an Upper VIth house match because loads of kids were laid out with the flu. I was told: jump here, push here, hit those c@nts if they have the ball, and in the unlikely event you have the ball in open play, for Christ’s sake don’t pass it, just point your arse at the opposition and wait for someone to grab the ball off you.
Wasn’t particularly challenging but I was surprised how much I enjoyed it (especially as I was a complete spastic at everything sporty - except playing oikball in goal... to illustrate: I could step over a higher bar than I could actually high jump...)
The PE teacher who had ignored me for 4 years was also coach of the local (senior) village team. They were decimated by the same Dickensian number and were short of a lock for an important cup tie the following Saturday. I was told unceremoniously I was playing and to borrow some kit.
15 massive, hairy 30 & 40 yr old blokes & me scrummaging was a different prospect to poncing around with a bunch of skinny kids. No one told me about the ears thing...
By the second scrum I was trying my hardest not to scream like a girl as my dainty little adolescent ears were progressively mangled & torn. They were a bloody mess by the end of the match - and they were so swollen & stuck out I looked like Prince Charles in a vacuum.
I was completely f@cking hooked! I bought a bandage roll and some insulating tape straight away and told the twat of a coach I was available the following Saturday. And thus began an affair with the (inorganic) love of my life!