The Adventures of a Rugby Coach
Copyright© 2021 by Zak
Chapter 35
True Sex Story: Chapter 35 - After several years of professional Rugby, I took up coaching and I have never had so much fun.
Caution: This True Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa BiSexual School Sports Workplace Black Female White Male White Female Oriental Female Hispanic Female Analingus Facial Massage Masturbation Oral Sex Petting Sex Toys Spitting Tit-Fucking BBW Big Breasts
The ball was gathered by our number eight, and he ran into three of the Fort William lads. He was hauled to the deck, but it took three of them out of the defensive line. He placed the ball behind him, and the scrum half pounced on it.
I heard Neil Hill, the captain, shouting for a quick ball, and the scrum half did as he was told. He dived passed the ball to his right, our inside centre caught the ball and ran an inside line, completely wrong-footing the defence. He put his head down and ran, the other centre on his shoulder. The full back ran into the line at pace. The defence splintered.
He was tackled only ten yards from the Fort William try line. But he got the ball away to the outside centre as he was tackled. He sliced through one defender, made another five yards before his opposite number hit him high and hard. I was waiting for the referee to blow his whistle as it seemed a dirty tackle to me, but he let the game carry on.
The ball, luckily for us, went backwards, and one of the second rows went down to protect it, and the rest of the pack rucked over him. He got the ball back and the scrum half dummied a pass to his left but passed to his right and the winger smashed through a tackle and dived over the line to score our first try of the match.
Our supporters went mad, and the lads all ran in to congratulate the try scorer.
I ran the Kicking tee in and shouted a few words of encouragement.
Our fly half, Mark Smith, kicked the conversion and we were 7-0 up. The lads went mad, as did the crowd.
Our lads ran back and got into their positions. I ran off the pitch and took a swig of water; my mouth was dry from all the shouting.
The Fort William fly-half kicked off, hard and long, and the chase was good. Our full back caught the ball, and with the Fort William centres in his face, he kicked the ball, high and long, down the pitch, and with some good fortune for us, it bounced out of reach of the hands of one of the Fort William wingers.
The lineout was formed, and Fort William threw to their first jumper. He fumbled the ball, and it came down on our side. Our scrum-half had his hands on it and passed it out to the inside centre. He ran a good line and made a few yards.
He was taken to the ground, but he got the ball back on the right side, allowing our team to gather it up. Our scrum half dashed into position and passed to one of the props who was running a great line. He made three yards, and it took two of the Fort William lads to tackle him.
The ball was recycled, and one of the flankers played the ball, passing it out to one of the second rows. The next ten minutes were all about us running great lines and recycling the ball. The Fort William lads were great in defence, but they could not get the ball off us. All the hard work on the training pitch was paying dividends.
The lads played as much in the centre of the pitch as they could; it was how I had coached them. We were moving up the pitch a yard at a time. Then one of the Fort William lads ran into a ruck from the side, and the referee blew his whistle. It was both illegal and stupid.
He gave us a penalty in a kickable position. I shouted out to one of the subs, and we ran on with water for the lads. I let Barnes run on with the kicking tee. He was sure to give our fly-half Mark Smith some good advice.
I gathered the rest of the team around me, and as they took on fluids, I told them to keep doing what they were doing. We had the Fort William lads worried that was for sure. I told them to use the big lads to run the ball up the centre of the pitch; they were drawing in tacklers, and that made more room for our centres and wingers.
The roar of the crowd told me that Smith had slotted home the penalty kick.
I gathered up the water bottles and told the team to go and get more tries.
I ran off the pitch and turned to watch the Fort William fly-half kick off the ball to start the match.
10-0
Our fullback took the ball and ran an arching line, followed by one of the flankers. The fullback got the pass away just as he was tackled, and the flanker ran two yards before passing to our number eight. He got his legs moving and his head down, making ten yards. He was hit with a perfect tackle, one of the opposition centres took him around the legs and took him to the ground.
The Fort William defence was all over the place. Two of our front-row players rucked over him, and the scrum-half was there and passing in seconds. We kept up the pace. Kept the ball moving. One of the centres was hit hard and lost the ball forward.
The referee blew for a scrum. The first scrum of the game is always a tough one; both packs of forwards would want to lay down a marker to show the opposition who was bigger and who was best. It would be a real arm wrestle.
The lads got into position. The Fort William scrum half has the ball, and the referee made the call. Crouch, Bind, Set.
“Crouch,” tells the forwards to drop into a low position.
“Bind” tells the props to grip their opponent’s jersey.
“Set” tells the players to engage and compete.
Both sets of forwards started to push and shove. The referee called out to the scrum half to get the ball in, just as our lads gave a second shove. We moved the opposition backwards enough to allow one of our lads to hook the ball backwards with his boot. It was all legal, and it gave us the ball. It came back to our number eight, and he picked up and darted around the side of the scrum.
The Fort William scrum half tried to tackle him, but he was handed off. The fly-half ran into the line and I heard him calling the code word for one of our preset plays...
“Blue ... Blue...” The number eight passed out to the fly-half as the centres ran into the attacking line.
It was a training ground move; it stretched the Fort William defence. The ball went out from fly-half to inside centre to outside centre to winger, and then the fullback ran an inside line. The winger popped the ball to the fullback, and he ran at an angle to the defenders. It worked time and time again during training, and it worked this time as well.
The fullback ran between the posts and dotted down the ball. Our fans went wild, all the lads ran in and mobbed the fullback.
15-0
I ran on the water bottles, and Barnes took on the kicking tee. Smith kicked it; it was an easy kick.
17-0
The game was going well. The Fort William lads were running ragged, and our attacking lines were slicing through their defence.
The game was started again, and again the Fort William fly-half kicked long, too long. Our right-hand winger, a lad called Rhys Hamlet, caught the ball and went up through the gears as he sprinted down his wing. He sidestepped his opposite number. He handed off another potential tackler. He was well over the halfway line before any of the defenders laid a hand on him. One of the Fort William tacklers hit him low, but our lad got the ball away.
The outside centre had run a good supporting line, and he took the pass. He made a few yards, but then he was tackled and got the ball back to the scrum half.
The following five minutes were all about our forwards picking and driving, recycling the ball. Each one of the eight took a turn to trundle down the pitch; they each drew in defenders, and they made good ground. It was all down to the hard work we had done night after night on the training ground.
Then one of our second rows saw space open up in front of him, and he was through and over the try line before the Fort William defence could adjust and regroup.
The conversion kick was an easy one, and Smith did a great job.
24-0
The rest of the first half was played in the middle of the pitch; there were a couple of scrums and a lot of picking and driving. Both sets of forwards wanted to keep possession of the ball. One of our lads went into a tackle a little bit high, and the referee gave Fort William a penalty kick. Their kicker made easy work of it, and they put three points on the board.
24-3
I glanced at my watch; there were five minutes left to play. We had to score next; we had to keep the pressure on.
We kicked off, and the Fort William Fullback took the ball. It was not a clean catch; he fumbled with it. Both of our centres were on him and hauled him to the ground. I looked down at the Fort William Coaches, and you could see their frustration. They were shaking their heads and throwing their hands in the air.
A ruck formed, and Fort William got the ball back. Their scrum-half box kicked the ball; he was aiming to get the ball off the pitch, but our right-hand winger, Rhys Hamlet, caught the ball inches before it would have been out of play, and he ran at full speed. One tackler missed him by an inch, and another was sidestepped.
He was hammered off the pitch just yards before the try line. He had the ball in his hands as he crossed the whitewash, so it was a Fort William Lineout.
The line out formed, and the Fort William hooker threw the ball long; their last jumper, their number eight, took a clean catch. He popped a pass to the scrum half, who popped a pass to the hooker who was running an arcing line.
It was a good training ground move, and they made good ground before our defence got their patterns right and we stopped him. Two of the forwards tackled him, and another went in and jackled the ball back before the Fort William lads could go in and form a ruck to protect the ball.
The ball was passed out to the inside centre, who crashed into his opposition. Both lads went down like a sack of spuds, and the referee blew his whistle and looked at the area where both sets of coaches were looking on. He had his arms crossed above his head, which indicates that a player has a blood injury. No one ever likes to see a player injured, and rugby teams always have excellent medical staff.
The Physios from both sides ran on, and I told two of the replacements to take water on.
I followed Mrs Dawson onto the pitch with a bottle of water for the referee, which he seemed grateful for. It had been a fast, flowing game.
It looked like both lads had nosebleeds, a common injury in rugby. If I had a pound for every nosebleed I had had, I would be a rich man. I had bled on the training pitch and in games.
I also took some water for the touch judge. They didn’t do as much running as the referee, but it was still a physically demanding job.
The physios took their time with the lads. I turned to the bench and signalled to Barnes to get one of our replacements warmed up.
The lads got up off the ground and shook hands as they followed the physios off the pitch. Both of them looked okay; there were no signs of shaky legs or other evidence of concussion.
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