1. England……not annointing a Captain now.
2. Ireland……just now realizing that Leo Cullen should never have been selected.
3. Wales……..The mere thought that Gavin Henson is in the Wales pool is a sad reflection of how little Warren Gatland knows.
4. Scotland……selecting Ross Ford as Captain..hmmmm not a lot of thinking in that one Andy.
5. France…..the sad thought that A. Rougerie will play 13.
6. Italy…..Jaques Bruenel should be applauded for not making the entire Italian side a split between wannabe Boks and wannabe Pumas.
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It wasn’t long before most of these spirits assembled before the Unknown Rugger. Yes, it was the old moths to a flame syndrome idiom.
The four of us ,my fellow club players, were the only people in the ever increasing trailer park stadium. Suddenly Mrs. Claus’ trailer was jammed.
There wasn’t anything romantic about the faceless Unknown Rugger except a tailored three piece herringbone tweed suit well worn at the elbows, sleeves and bottom.
Apparently he had command of the floor and eloquently too, a bit complex for the likes of four drunken rugby players adrift in some parallel human universe, all taking place in an aluminum caravan with the wife, family and friends of a famous personage.
This is how it started. Tell me this isn’t weird? One might say the proceedings were energized.
“This is all about life and death. I am all about life and death.
Let me introduce myself by introducing the elements of The Apocalypse. They are, in no particular order Misery, Pain, Suffering,Deceit, Conceit,Betrayal, Corruption, Greed, Injury, Defeat, Murder, Decay, Infection, Secrecy, Injustice, Sterility, Mania, Jealousy, Illusion, Delusion and Torture. Sounds a bit nasty, yes?
Do they remind anybody of the IRB or the RFU? No, I must have my little joke, you see. I like to think of these ingredients collectively as a microcosmic rugby team, complete with coaches and physios.”
One would not have thought the opening speech as holding much interest to anybody who didn’t have an interest in rugby football.
Later I was to learn, and remember, that the Unknown Rugger addressed us his personal dream which naturally could change from one person to the next depending on that person’s particular circumstance for being at this mysterious gala from the beginning. It’s a lame comparison but where we were was not unlike The Hotel California in that when the Unknown Rugger was speaking all mortals I guess could check out but never leave.
Don’t worry, the atmosphere grows more weird but that is the story coming up.
That would be the ideology of the Faceless Rugger and its delivery.
Even now I am not so certain that this was not just a horribly enlightening dream, one in which I walked and ran in my sleep.
