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Couldn't Agree more:
well, this game just gone...
Even the referee was sick of it all. After 68 minutes of meandering otherwise known as the Waratahs-Force match on Saturday night, Stu Dickinson strode in between the two packs of forwards, and said: ''People are getting bored of this rubbish. Get it right.''
We had just witnessed several more minutes of dead time, as the 16 scrummagers performed a routine as brain-dead as the Chicken Dance and as infuriating as the Macarena. Admittedly, it's not inviting but as a public service, Monday Maul can provide some secrets to anyone out there who wants to inflict revenge on their enemies by learning and then forcing them to watch the most exasperating dance routine of all.
To the tune of Achy Breaky Heart, It goes something like this …
Step one - Grab your partner around the waist, look longingly into his eyes, and grunt.
Step two - Bend over, move your left foot forward and paw the ground, peer up and look at the other dance group a few centimetres away, and grunt even louder. This should coincide with you hearing the lyric: ''You can tell your friends just what a fool I've been.''
Step three - Squat like a mushroom, walk like an Egyptian and allow several thrillseekers to stick their heads between you and your partner's thighs, because they've decided to come along for the ride. They get into the rhythm by also grunting, groaning and dribbling.
Step four - Do a little shuffle to your left. Do a little shuffle to your right. Similar to Al Jolson's Mammy, move one of your arms forward and shake it all about.
Step five - This is when the dance instructor appears and gets everyone on the same wavelength by speaking this crazy voodoo language. Listen closely because this groovy ''crouch, touch, pause, engage'' jive, apart from sending you wild, gives you the chance to show off some expressive arm, head and leg movements. It's also time for some cheek-to-cheek action on the dance floor. This is the ''mating season'' step.
Step six - Prepare yourself to turn into James Brown. Wiggle it all about. Wobble those knees. Attack the dance floor. Charge headlong into the other dance group, and assert your authority as the leading partner in the ''rugby waltz''. Push your best foot forward and attempt to spin your partner ''round the outside, round the outside''. Then Dosey Doe your partners.
Step seven - Now it's time to do The Ostrich. Tilt your forehead, close your eyes really tight - and fall head-first into the turf. Don't be concerned if your mouth dries up and there's a deep indent across your brow because you'll soon get used to the taste of kikuyu, fertiliser, black mud and spittle.
Now to the tune of the Benny Hill Show music, go for a little variation.
Step one - Dust yourself off. Put your hands on your hips, and look innocently towards the dance instructor. He will also put his hands on his hips, shake his head and wag his forefinger at you. Don't worry- this is the denial step - a bit like the strut of a peacock before it shows off its plumage.
Step two - Turn off Benny Hill and instead imitate the Billy Ray Cyrus chorus by singing to the instructor: ''Sir, Sir, Sir, It just wasn't me. The other mob are always pulling it down.''
Step three - Revert to the original dance and go through steps one to seven all over again.
Repeat this routine at least eight times. Then get up and congratulate each other for 10 minutes of non-stop boogaloo. Don't get discouraged if you look around and notice everyone else in the ground has left. They just don't get it. And all you have to say to them is: ''Don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart, I just don't think it'd understand.''
http://www.smh.com.au/rugby-union/su...508-1ee5h.html
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Originally Posted by Rex Messup
