NASC Follow-up

I haven’t gotten around to updating my blog from last weekend. I’m sure that those of you who actually follow (shout out to Bonnie Hanks who follows this particular and the handful of others who follow my other blogs) and/or read my blog are aware that we lost in the championship match to the Midwest. Here’s the skinny on the match.

They beat us in the first half, but it wasn’t a runaway. We regained our footing at the start of the second, and scored a try. But then the floodwaters were too much, our dam burst, and the runaway commenced.

Though they smoked us in the second half, we didn’t fall apart. We took it like the 300 Spartans and went down together. Ok, so we weren’t fighting thousands of Persians (though those corn-fed Midwest girls are certainly comparable), but my point is we went down the way we earned our spot in the championship—as a solidified unit and scrappy as hell.

So yeah, we lost, but all in all it was a great time. The NASC tournament always is. It’s a special event where all the rugby freaks can convene and beat the shit out of each other. And awesome things happen, like getting to hang out with old friends, getting to visit different parts of the country, getting to play rugby against some of the best in the country, getting kicked in the face with the ball twice in one match. There’s nothing like it, and I think I speak for a majority of the players when I say that I hope there are more of these tournaments.

I mean if it wasn’t for the NASC tournament, I probably wouldn’t have run into Laura Hanks for another 10 years. Hanks is a friend from way-back. We played AAU basketball together for the Lady Cavs out of Charlottesville VA.

We were trouble. Always into something—Hanky and Pankey. I’ll tell you guys a few things you probably didn’t know about ole Hanky and then I’ll close. First, she plays rugby like she played basketball—like a bowling ball. But then, that’s kinda how I played as well, which makes rugby a better sport for us, since there are no fouls. She also had a knee brace with a smell that could knock the flies off a shit-wagon. And when I said we were trouble…once, at a Five Star camp, we decided that we would steal as many things on campus and hoard the stuff in our room. With the help of Gillian Gumble (Bryant’s daughter), we managed to get several complete sets of dinnerware (trays and napkin dispensers included) and I believe a fire extinguisher, all of which stayed on campus when we left.

Anyway, Hanky and I also got to play against each other in the final at NASCs. I guess we were rugby freaks from the start—probably why we got along so well.