So after a week recovering from rugby, I decided to get started again by... playing rugby. Wasn't exactly my choice after someone called in sick, one of the young blokes decided to go chase pussy for the weekend, and another had some kind of other girlfriend issue. Fucking hopeless.
First Grade this time - full 80 minutes at loosehead against a bloke 10 years my junior.
Fucking dished him up, too, with 2 tightheads (but no penalties to us - which were deserved IMHO and I left the ref in no doubt of my thoughts). In fairness my second row is probably the strongest in the comp, and our tight five average age is 39 so there is no trick we don't know. Not that we needed it against pretty much anyone.
Thing is, I might complain about the bruises, and the strains and injuries, but I fucking love playing front row at this level, because most guys on the other team don't know shit. Plus I love the banter out on the field - one young bloke on the other team had his lower leg pinned in a ruck after trying to take our ball, and I decided to land on his hip while clearing him out.
"Ah! My kneee!" said the offending manbun.
"Well don't fucking be there next time" I muttered in his face, smiling nicely.
He took my advice.
I didn't even get a chance to make (miss?) tackles as they refused to run near our forwards (nothing to do with me - I've got some big koro types who like contact), but I threw 1 lineout for 100% success and got around the park until I ran out of gas about 50 minutes in. EDIT: after that was a lot of walking. Or jogging if it was a scrum.
Anyway, I'm on 90 caps for the club so I'll probably keep going, but get fit.
Fuck that's awesome, good on you mate.