(no subject)
I didn't know how I was going to feel about the Bingham Cup and not going to Ireland after all the drama last winter. Maybe it helps that they didn't win, but it turns out that mostly I feel pretty good. I had an awesome hawaiian vacation, and they - well, they lost some important rugby matches.
One of the things that hurt the most last December was the idea of losing all those teammates. That I would lose the relationships with the 25-50 guys I ran with every week, who I fought for on the field, trained with, sweat with, bled with, endured the desolate weather on treasure island with, week in and week out. We throw that Henry V quote around pretty liberally around in these parts - For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother - and in the months leading up to the tournament when it and numerous references to brotherhood would inevitably get sent out in mass emails I would grit my teeth and add bitterly to myself -unless you're a girl.
The first day of the Cup someone sent out a group shot of the team posing in their dress blues. My face lit up when I opened it. My boys looked so sharp and so handsome in their blazers and matching ties. It turns out they're still my boys, still my teammates, even if we don't play on the same pitch anymore.
Last week at the bar, after M.'s partner's memorial service, Wasp asked me if we could be friends again. I told him I still thought he had handled the women playing on the B-side issue very poorly, but I had some distance from it now, that I felt okay about moving forward. He broke my heart pretty badly, but it turns out he's still my teammate too.
One of the things that hurt the most last December was the idea of losing all those teammates. That I would lose the relationships with the 25-50 guys I ran with every week, who I fought for on the field, trained with, sweat with, bled with, endured the desolate weather on treasure island with, week in and week out. We throw that Henry V quote around pretty liberally around in these parts - For he today who sheds his blood with me shall be my brother - and in the months leading up to the tournament when it and numerous references to brotherhood would inevitably get sent out in mass emails I would grit my teeth and add bitterly to myself -unless you're a girl.
The first day of the Cup someone sent out a group shot of the team posing in their dress blues. My face lit up when I opened it. My boys looked so sharp and so handsome in their blazers and matching ties. It turns out they're still my boys, still my teammates, even if we don't play on the same pitch anymore.
Last week at the bar, after M.'s partner's memorial service, Wasp asked me if we could be friends again. I told him I still thought he had handled the women playing on the B-side issue very poorly, but I had some distance from it now, that I felt okay about moving forward. He broke my heart pretty badly, but it turns out he's still my teammate too.