It might shock some of you that playing a good game of flag football or a pick up game of basketball is near the top of the list of things that I miss most from back home. Since no one plays those sports over here and we live a small town there’s never really a pick-up game of any kind around here. Leaving me yearning to find something… anything.

Well, after 3 years of looking I finally found a weekend game of rugby in town. The only problem is, I’ve never played rugby before and I barely understand all the rules. I knew it would be quite humbling, but I wanted to play something so bad it was worth the embarrassment. It all started off too perfect. The first time Josh and I went out to play they were picking teams and I just saw it coming a mile aways. It started getting down to the last few people and we had yet to be picked. Flashbacks to kickball in elementary school we’re running through my mind. So yes, Josh and I were the last two people picked. Even the 10 year kid was picked for us. Seriously, it really happened. It was pretty funny.

I’ve been out twice now and think I’m getting better, thought I’m still trying to learn all the rules. I didn’t grow up watching the sport so everything is pretty new to me. Think of it as mix between soccer, because the ball is always moving, and football, because you’re running with the ball down field as people are trying to tackle you. You can also kick the ball forward, but can’t through it forward. See why I’m confused. To make things even tougher they don’t speak much English when where playing, so I’ll have no idea why things happen.

Good Times!