What I Know About School Boy Rugby...
This may come as a surprise for those of you who didn’t grow up with me. In my youth the boys of Winterton used to call me She-Ra. And rightfully so because I was a ferocious, aggressive tyke with a profound love for playing the game of rugby. My rugby playing career came to a resounding end with the breaking of my arm after a serious tackle from Matt Hall. It was also at this point that I started getting pesky boobs and so I had to hang up my imaginary boots forever. Because I never got to go professional - ie play with the right number of players and not on the lawn outside Steve Bolt’s hangar - I don’t know the finer nuances of the game. ‘Chasing the Sun’ was an epic educational video for me in this regard - which incidentally, and not surprisingly, I wept through. But I know that fearless spirit of committing to a tackle and running immortally for the try line (which in my case was always marked with two discarded jerseys). I say I am not a competitive person and I am generally not...