Hey everyone, haven’t written much, so thought I’d put this up. Does anyone know what a hit merchant is? Well, in rugby league, it’s someone who goes looking for big hits. Ok, ok. I’m one of the smallest guys, so my tackles aren’t actually that big. But they generally are savage enough.
We played today, a hard-fought draw, finally some points for my long-suffering team. I had a cracker game, and thought I’d put up some highlights I enjoyed.
It was last tackle, opposition put it up . . . . over to my wing. I HATE catching kicks, because I seem to always drop them or stuff them up. So my heart basically leapt into my mouth as I saw it come spiralling down on top of me. Even worse, there was a horrible glare in my eyes.
To be honest, I don’t actually remember catching the ball. I just reached out, down on one knee in the mud, and next thing I had the ball in my hands, just a few centimetres off the ground.
It was like, “Yes!”
I sprung up and turned to meet the oncoming defence. Make for the left then bolted right. Got past one, and finally was dragged down. As they pulled me down, one of the players came down with his elbow on the ball which I had tucked under my right arm: and knocked it out.
Ref blew his whistle, knock-on, opposition’s ball.
And it was like, “Damn! Come at me again! Let me show you what these arms are gonna do to you now!”
Poor coach. He probably almost had heart failure when I was under the high ball, probably breathed a ginormous sigh of relief when I caught it, and then probably groaned in agony when it got knocked on.
A little bit later, one of the players on the other team said to me, “Hey, ur just a winger! Shut up!”
Man, that got my blood boiling. We kicked off, and I was straight up into the first tackle. Standing at first marker, I was boiling over for another tackle. Ball was passed out to the guy who had just told me, “You’re just a winger.”
Oh yes! Nothing like hitting someone you don’t particularly like. Even better, he came straight at me.
Wham! Ok, it wasn’t quite that spectacular. I don’t have the weight.
But he didn’t go forward after I hit him. He went sideways into the turf, and I made sure to lie on top of him for as long as I could. After having three players run straight at me and get levelled, they started avoiding me.
End of the game, we shook hands. Came up to the guy, “In your face.”
Never insult wingers. They might get fired up . . . .
And just because you catch high balls, doesn’t mean you’re safe yet. . . .
GZ
PS:
Good game boys. So many of you were phenomenal! So glad I get to play with you’s all. Thanks for putting up with my butter-fingers.
Source
We played today, a hard-fought draw, finally some points for my long-suffering team. I had a cracker game, and thought I’d put up some highlights I enjoyed.
It was last tackle, opposition put it up . . . . over to my wing. I HATE catching kicks, because I seem to always drop them or stuff them up. So my heart basically leapt into my mouth as I saw it come spiralling down on top of me. Even worse, there was a horrible glare in my eyes.
To be honest, I don’t actually remember catching the ball. I just reached out, down on one knee in the mud, and next thing I had the ball in my hands, just a few centimetres off the ground.
It was like, “Yes!”
I sprung up and turned to meet the oncoming defence. Make for the left then bolted right. Got past one, and finally was dragged down. As they pulled me down, one of the players came down with his elbow on the ball which I had tucked under my right arm: and knocked it out.
Ref blew his whistle, knock-on, opposition’s ball.
And it was like, “Damn! Come at me again! Let me show you what these arms are gonna do to you now!”
Poor coach. He probably almost had heart failure when I was under the high ball, probably breathed a ginormous sigh of relief when I caught it, and then probably groaned in agony when it got knocked on.
A little bit later, one of the players on the other team said to me, “Hey, ur just a winger! Shut up!”
Man, that got my blood boiling. We kicked off, and I was straight up into the first tackle. Standing at first marker, I was boiling over for another tackle. Ball was passed out to the guy who had just told me, “You’re just a winger.”
Oh yes! Nothing like hitting someone you don’t particularly like. Even better, he came straight at me.
Wham! Ok, it wasn’t quite that spectacular. I don’t have the weight.
But he didn’t go forward after I hit him. He went sideways into the turf, and I made sure to lie on top of him for as long as I could. After having three players run straight at me and get levelled, they started avoiding me.
End of the game, we shook hands. Came up to the guy, “In your face.”
Never insult wingers. They might get fired up . . . .
And just because you catch high balls, doesn’t mean you’re safe yet. . . .
GZ
PS:
Good game boys. So many of you were phenomenal! So glad I get to play with you’s all. Thanks for putting up with my butter-fingers.
Source
