Leeeeeeeaving, on a jet-plane

This is the plane I'll be flying out on! (Or at least one like it)

This is the plane I’ll be flying out on! (Or at least one like it)

Tomorrow’s the day!

That is, tomorrow I will be leaving for the Bingham Cup — out of NZ and off to Sydney, where there are already enough ruggers to give me a serious case of FOMO.

It’s been interesting to try and get enough gear together, after realising that the weather forecast (rain rain and some more rain) would necessitate changing gear multiple times throughout the tournament, and not just at the end of each day. Bingham have shouted us a single polo shirt, and when I got in touch with the ARRA they said the kit cupboards were almost bare. Luckily a friend has loaned me all of his old gear (in a much thicker and warmer poly-cotton than my Wellington kit) and I got together enough stuff to keep me warm and dry for the whole tournament. This means I have gear from a full four different associations, along with the NZ Falcons, including one association I have never represented.

I did have a game on the weekend – two in fact, down at Orakei Domain in the under 12 and under 13 capped divisions. The under 13s were a final – But really, no one did much toward dissuading me from my belief that the biggest problem in children’s rugby are the adults. The game got started really late because the one before it ended in an actual brawl – the kind where the police get called.

Let me repeat this – these children are 12. What the fuck parents? WHAT. THE. FUCK?

Then, my knee played up for 30 minutes. I’d had the hell strapped out of it by the guy at Physio Rehab, and I think that made it worse rather than better – I couldn’t actually run. I wasn’t giving the game the refereeing it deserved, so I asked one of my AR’s to take over at half time. Really disappointing.

Rather than get my knee strapped at Bingham, making my game worse, I went to the Doctor today and got a LOT of voltaren – pain? Ha! (It’s going to hurt like lube-free buggery, and I’m okay with that.)

And in further disappointing news… I don’t have a onesie. I had one all ordered and ready, bought off trade me. And then when I went to pick it up, the store was closed. Not in a ‘back at 9’ way – a ‘this business is no longer operational’ way. So I’m $40 out with no onesie to show for it.

Now I promised onesie. I feel terrible. So instead, I offer this. Wednesday morning there’s a “coaching clinic” with the Warratahs, (glorified photo-op) and when it comes to me getting a photo, I’ll be holding a sign saying “END UNICORN POACHING”. It’ll have a unicorn on it. Or as close as I can get, given I’m no artist.

Humiliating enough?

Any other suggestions (that I can carry out in 18 hours) chuck them in the comments.

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