Return to Tigertown

Two years ago, the US Women's National Rugby Team attended a camp in Lakeland, Florida at a place called Tigertown. During our time here, I concocted several fictitious tales describing the founding of Tigertown, how Cecil Fielder may or may not be the mayor, and the possibility of it being a black hole. Those tales, being fictitious but certainly creative and creatively detailed, caused some confusion. Now that we're back in Lakeland, I'd like to clear up the confusion. Tigertown was not founded by some guy named Tigerson, Cecil Fielder is not the mayor, and it is not a black hole, as evident from our escape from it back in 2012. It turns out that it is just a training facility. However, I believe that something more covert, and perhaps a bit nefarious, than training is happening here--something to do with the abundance of styrofoam and the omnipresence of cafeteria workers (one of the ladies appeared in one of our meeting rooms talking about how the air conditioner may freeze up).

Styrofoam and nefarious plots aside, our return to Tigertown has been productive. It's Day 2 and already we have scrimmaged, done fitness testing, had two gym sessions, and have beaten and battered each other in three field sessions. We've also participated in a cognitive testing study, worked on being nutrition ninjas, and reviewed past beatings in film sessions. Seems like a lot when it's written down. Well, I'll tell you, it is a lot. It feels, as it does at most of the WNT camps and events, like we have been here for eons (maybe not eons, but more than two days). These camps and events demand so much physical effort and mental focus that you, the player, feel like you've invested days worth of "real life" effort in a matter of hours. When I say "real life" effort, I mean the effort it takes to get through a typical work/school day during a typical week at home. I don't mean to imply that this isn't "real life."

In the past, these events and camps have seemed so surreal--in the way time passes, the very high concentration of freaks in one location, the access to resources (like a rugby pitch in your back yard, nutritionists, doctors, trainers, awesome managers who do your laundry, etc), the support of people like yourself, the absence of work responsibilities, etc. However, this has become part of my life, and I think in that realization there comes a greater sense of belonging to this clan of freaks, for whom this is also a part of life. And this is one of the great parts of life. It's hard--incredibly hard at times--but like Tom Hanks says, in A League of Their Own, "The hard is what makes it great."

Anyway, enough of my philosophical ramblings. We have another field session and another gym session this afternoon, so it's time to get into rugby mode (I think I need a name for my alter-rugby-ego...suggestions?).