Chapter 9: Rugby

It was a Saturday afternoon in early October, and as Wendy wasn’t working, she had convinced Rob to take her to the rugby club so that she could watch James play. Elaine said she would go along as well. Autumn had now set in, and the day was sunny but chilly. Despite the chill in the air, Wendy was nice and snuggly warm, dressed in woollen trousers, black boots, a woollen sweater and a thick coat with a mock fur collar.

As the game started, James looked very young compared to all the other players, most of whom were fully grown men. Wendy didn’t understand the laws or the game, but Rob playing the game himself at school did, but he was nowhere near as good as James and tried his best to explain what was going on.

Wendy squealed when James was tackled by a couple of large men, but he bounced up and didn’t even seem to notice the heavy contact that had occurred. Even Rob had shuddered at the impact, but he knew that once on the field, James was in another place from the rest of the world. He was totally focused on the game.

James’ side seemed to be doing okay, but the game was tight, tempers were running high, and there were occasional flare-ups. There was what Rob explained was a scrum, when eight players from each side got together and pushed against each other over the ball. The other players, who seemed smaller and quicker, were standing behind. Waiting for the ball to come to them.

“If they get a nudge on; a wheel, James will score here,” Rob said.

“What?” Wendy replied.

“If James’ side can get the scrum turning even slightly to the right, James will score. It’s only about 12 yards to the try line, and he’s quick off the back of the scrum. It’s all a matter of geometry and angles.”

“What?” both Wendy and Elaine asked.

“If they get the scrum to wheel, turn to the right, that will take the covering players and flanker out of play slightly, and James will be off and passed them before they can react. Not only that, his team has stacked the other side to open up the space a bit more. Just watch and see.”

There was a lot of grunting and heaving from both ‘packs’ as Rob had called the forwards to Wendy, and then the scrum gradually seemed to turn to the right, very, very slightly. That was James’ cue. He was playing at the back of the scum, and the ball was at his feet. Without hesitation, as soon as he felt the scrum turn, he scooped the ball up and set off running to his right. The small player who had put the ball into the scrum was following him, calling for a pass. James ignored the shouts of the older player, who was in a great deal of space and hared for the try line. Smashing the covering full-back, who was older and heavier than him over the line with him as he scored.

James made no big deal of his efforts but went over to a rotund man who seemed as wide as he was tall and slapped him on the back, even though he seemed old enough to be James’ father.

“Great scrum Tony, you got their prop just where you wanted him, made my job easy for the score.”

“Wow,” Wendy was amazed, not only at James’ ability but his easy manner within a group of older men.

“He’s good,” said Rob, “best player in school by miles, he should play for the county, but they don’t look at our school for players, or this club.”

The game continued with James’ side having the better of the play without scoring again, then James made a break and passed the ball to a gangly, thin but very quick player, who was standing out wide on the touchline. A couple of seconds after he had completed the pass, James was hit, hard and late, by the player who was playing opposite him. James was smashed to the ground as he wasn’t expecting the illegal tackle. Bouncing up, James spun around, his face a mask of fury. “You dirty, fucking bastard!” he screamed at the older player, then punched him hard in the face. The pair of them stood there exchanging punches, James holding his own before all the other players joined in, and a mass brawl ensued. Eventually, the referee sorted things out and sent off both James, and the other player.

As James was trudging back to the changing rooms, Wendy ran after him and grabbed his arm. James pulled it away angrily, shouting, “Fuck off.” When he spun around, Wendy saw his eyes were unfocused, then they gradually came back, and he smiled at her. “What are you doing here?”

“Rob brought me and Elaine to watch you. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. That was a cheap shot though. Look, Wendy, I need to go and get showered and changed. I’ll meet you in the clubhouse in a bit if you want, but it could be noisy and I’m going to have a bit of explaining to do to some of the others.”

Wendy had found James in the clubhouse and had just gone to sit with him when an old man dressed in flannels, blazer, and club tie stormed up to James and started berating him, saying, “I hear you’ve been sent from the field of play. For fighting at that. You are an abomination. You’ve disgraced the club with your actions.”

James sat there, his head bowed and didn’t respond. Wendy didn’t let things lie though, storming at the man, “Have you seen his nose, the other player hit him first.”

Just then, another man dressed like the first but a lot younger and taller came over and ushered the first man away.

“Stupid old fart,” James muttered under his voice.