Rugby experience enlightens

My body still hurts.

About a month ago, I wanted to be an enterprising Index staffer and try to do something to set myself apart from the crop of new prospects.

I interviewed men's rugby head coach Bill Sexton for my weekly article, and he made an interesting comment. He said I was a big guy and that I should think about practicing with the team.

So, I asked my editor to do a column about my experience with the team. No big deal. I used to play football. How different could it be? I could tell you that I was an awesome football player who just gave it up for a promising journalism career. However, there are some on campus who could prove otherwise.

The day finally came for me to put up or shut up. All confidence suddenly seemed to disappear. Try to imagine me out there - I haven't owned a pair of cleats in about six years. I had to go with my all-black Chuck Taylor hightops, the next best thing I owned.

I was toast and just didn't know it yet.

Immediately, I found junior forward "Big Tom" Smith, my friend since freshman year. After his disbelief that I would be stupid enough to try something like this wore off, he introduced me to the rest of the team and told them what I was doing there.

One of the guys asked, "So, is this like 'Gorillas in the Mist,' where you've come to observe us in our natural habitat?"

I couldn't help but chuckle a little bit at that. But face it, the stereotype when it comes to rugby players is probably that they are brute force animals who go around destroying guys. In a way, the gorilla analogy made sense.

Once practice got underway, I discovered that there was much more to these guys and their game. Tuesday is conditioning day, so we started off with a succession of exercises that seemed to work especially hard on the core. After about the third exercise, I started to lag. Coach yelled that I was welcome to opt out of anything I couldn't handle. But I was determined to make sure I did everything I could to make the experience authentic.

After conditioning came passing drills. I soon discovered an amazing amount of agility and coordination needed for what these guys do.

The longer we went, the bigger my second left foot grew. I felt bad for the guys who had to work with the klutz.

One thing that surprised me was how much time Sexton took to take advantage of every learning opportunity. He made certain the team understood just what they would be going up against that weekend. He knew his opposition like the back of his hand and made sure the team did, too.

As I left, Coach highly suggested I take several ibuprofen. He constantly tells his players to take it. When I hit my pillow that night, I completely understood why - I wasn't sure I would ever move again.

Confidence in my mobility hadn't returned by the next day. I seriously considered calling my editor and asking if one day was good enough. But after some prodding from a friend, I sucked it up and went back out.

My reward for coming back out was hitting day. Coach said to go get the suits. However, what I saw weren't suits. They were more like samurai war garb and I was supposed to run headlong into these guys wearing these?

Yeah, right.

The funny thing was instinct seemed to just take over, and I found myself smacking into senior captain Tony Giubardo. I can honestly say that was one of the most exhilarating moments of my life. Probably also the most painful, but that's beside the point.

Afterward, all the bashing and crashing seemed more natural. In one hit, I found a new level of respect for the team. These guys work hard and deserve massive respect. They aren't animals when they play. They are something so much more.

And how about my performance on the field?

Coach said I really showed some talent. He said I could be good with some practice.

Thanks, Coach, I appreciate that. Now I'm going to ice down my entire body.