Rugby

I’m not the slightest bit interested in rugby. Sure, I have sat down and watched a game or two with friends on occasion, and I can get into that. I even had my hair sprayed blue for a state of origin game once, and in Townsville, which is a very long way away from the “roaches”, that was a dangerous thing to do. But I’m not going to go out of my way to watch it by myself. Maybe I could have it on in the background while I did some crochet.

All that said, there is something I feel like announcing to the world somewhere. Just because. Once upon a time my uncle played rugby against the All Blacks, when he was in the Australian Army under conscription, and he was “talent spotted”. He went on to play some rugby professionally for a time, but I believe that was “league”.

That is all.

I asked a male colleague about the difference between union and league, and he said “boat shoes are union”. I get it. The curious thing is, my Uncle and Aunt would not let their kids play rugby. They are surf life savers instead.

P.S. My grandmother was from New Zealand, so I reckon I can stick a claim in either way.