Last Saturday, I had the privilege of attending my first rugby game, where our very own women’s rugby team mercilessly took down that of Syracuse University. As Vassar triumphed, Syracuse cried orange tears. Cry me an orange juice river—am I right? Haha.
Jokes aside, it was a very moving event to witness. I left with a sense of school pride and the lingering question: How does one actually play?
After conducting thorough research, I now feel obligated to share my wisdom with the world. This article will focus exclusively on the women’s team, because no one cares about the men’s team, anyway. And that’s on 60-40!
Here are the three simple steps necessary for becoming a rugby star:
Step One: Cheek to Cheek
Through my experience as a spectator, as well as my extensive research, I’ve learned that rugby tackles utilize a “cheek to cheek approach.” In NARP terms, this translates to making sure your upper cheek makes contact with your opponent’s lower cheek. “Butt cheek,” if you will. While slightly amusing to witness, and perhaps something I would refrain from telling the seven-year-olds I babysit, it is genuinely terrifying and not a laughing matter. I sat down for an exclusive interview with Coach Rugby, who told me, “Just really throw your face on her butt, just really go for it and it all will turn out fine.” Such a well-spoken gentleman.
Step Two: Human Centipede
The “human centipede,” as my fellow spectators deemed it, consisted of several players seemingly locking together and passing the ball through their legs. I don’t have much amusing commentary to add to this observation. Just when the anxious observer thinks the game is coming to a halt, the ball emerges from between the player’s legs, and the game begins again, like Harry Potter emerging triumphantly with the golden snitch—but better.
Step Three: Violence, Violence, So Much Violence
As a self-proclaimed pacifist, I have to admit that I was slightly uncomfortable with the roughness of rugby. It felt like being on an episode of “What Would You Do?” or unknowingly being a member of a psychological study where I am the embodiment of a social loafing bystander. Was I supposed to intervene and stop this violence? Or just let it unfold in front of my eyes? One person on the field got decapitated. Another’s leg exploded. At one point, Syracuse tried to spray the field with pineapple juice, an allergen of Vassar’s star player, Captain Rugby. There was blood everywhere, evoking scenes of every father’s favorite movie, “Saving Private Ryan.” I was scared, clutching the bleachers with my white-knuckled hands. I thought about calling CRC but instead just posted on Fizz.
Watching a rugby game is a perfect fall pastime, but I couldn’t help but wonder if the game may be better suited for a warmer climate. Perhaps June?
Women’s rugby——please know I respect your craft. All of this is simply jokes. Haha. You are stronger than I will ever be, and also please don’t tackle me. Haha. Just joking. Thanks.
Great writing!