Rugby is weird. We run around the pitch trying to kill each other for 80 minutes, and then afterwards we all go out to the bar and drink together. The same guy with his fingers gouging out your eyes is now buying you a beer. It's a little strange, particularly when they do "boat race" competitions and other drinking contests. The rugby boys git all frisky and start to act kinda gay.
The problem is, we start drinking so soon after the game that the alcohol covers up any aches or pains. The next day, I feel like a trainwreck from the injuries I didn't know I had. Plus, the killer hangover. So, I think I bruised a rib last Saturday. And it took 24 hours to figger than out.
This weekend is our last rugby game of the fall season. And the whole team is going out. For some strange reason, they've chosen a wrestling theme, and everybody has to come in costume for a bar crawl. Straight men, their straight girlfriends, and me. I'll probably be wearing a tight lycra singlet and walking down Colfax Street. You know, like I usually do.
So, if yer feeling kinky Saturday night, and want to meet a drunken rugby team, that's where we will be. I'm going to dare a bunch of them to go into Charlie's at about 10 pm or so. It's on the route, and for some reason, the team always skips over that bar. This weekend, I'll make sure we make a stop - so maybe you can get a phone number or two.
Check out: http://www.harlequins.org/ for details on the game.