Joining Club Rugby / The Education of Sean WF - Part 6
Well, SeanWF, your education as a rugby player has been neglected of late by me, but I'm sure your coach has well spent the time to futher develop your not inconsiderable skills.
By now you will have been involved in several practice or trial matches, and with each such encounter your confidence, and the number and colours of your bruises, will have grown.
Next weekend heralds the start of the season proper with a home game, and you can hardly contain yourself with the excitement of the prospect.
But on Tuesday the coach is very serious, indeed, distracted, at the comencement of training. He calls your squad together and solemnly informs you all that there is a looming club crisis in which your help and that of your team mates is desperately required and vitally important.
It seems that the President's secretary's cousin has forgotten to arrange for the erection of the goal posts, that the line marking machine has only just been relocated and repaired after last season's incident with the Council lawn mower, that the groundsman has resigned from the club due to the Treasurer's serious objection to the groundsman's unwelcomed (by the Treasurer at least) familiarity with the Treasurer's wife, and in short, volunteers are needed to erect the posts, peg and mark the ground and dress the field prior to the game.
The Herculean task, normally carried out over several weekends including the Easter Break, has to be carried out on Saturday morning and completed before the start of the under 17's game at 11.30 am.
Greatly perturbed by this most unsatisfactory turn of events, occasioned of course entirely by circumstances beyond the ken and control of any club office bearer or member of the committee, you immediately unreservedly offer your services, followed with alacrity by the 30 kilo weakling.
Stretch asks if there will be a carton afterwards, and the two jolly props utter some unmentionable and quite shocking expletives centering on the sexual proclivities of the Treasurer's wife.
The contingent of Junior AllBlacks, while showing mild interest at the mention of the carton, meld into the background when it becomes apparent none will be available.
The five Currie Cup trialists, it seems, have pressing work commitments on Saturday morning , cash in hand to supplement their centrelink entitlements, and the three under 19s State representatives have baby sitting duties until the very moment the match commences.
Before long a plan of action is in place however. You and the Coach will peg the field and dig the post holes at 5.pm after work on Friday and the 30 kilo weakling, who's father serendipitously owns a crane hire company, will ask Pater to lend the club a crane and driver on Saturday morning, gratis. Stretch and the two now not so jolly fat men will be on hand to render assistance and carry out the line marking duties.
The weakling's father's munificence can, apparently, be secured as a result of Pater having been present to observe his progeny's try in the first trial game, which game had been played against the club to which his arch business rival belonged. Pater had exulted in the twin satisfactions of being able to lord it over his foe and to relive his past glories through his issue's solitary try.
Having resolved these otherwise insurmountable difficulties between yourselves, the President approaches, thanks you all for recognising your club and social obligations, explains how commitment and esprit de corps have blossomed under his stewardship and how he would not expect anything less, and regets that his and the committee's pre arranged golf morning precludes them all from being able to help.
And next time SeanWF, My Munchkin, I will unfold to you the progression of your very first involvement in a club working bee.
