by kim blades, writer

Watching rugby with my son

it’s very hot here in the sun

big men running and tackling hard

but they’re not in a sweaty lather

that’s left to  us spectators rather

cos we’re sitting on a leather settee

watching them on a flat screen TV

the rugby match is in wintry Wales

played by thirty international males

English, Maori and South African

some Australian and one Canadian

they’re keeping warm running around

passing, rucking and going to ground

scoring tries and converting them

two teams of very energetic men

and a fast moving French referee

seems the most disiplined to me

he watches the players with eagle eye

the TMO and he don’t lie

a  penalized player shrugs and his smile

shows regret and apology rather than guile

suddenly field and players are soaked

and the ball out of the scrum is coaxed

pouring rain and frosty breath

only one minute of game time is left

we sit forward on the couch

the score is close and there’s room for doubt

which team will win and which will lose

it all depends on the flyhalf’s move

he’s missed three conversions thus far

some think he is a waning star

but he gets the ball up and over

just as the siren sounds louder

than the winning team’s cold supporters

the players are too tired to be cavorters

they shake hands, slap backs and retire

quickly to get out of the cold that is dire

my son and I go outside in the heat

we’re in South Africa and are going to braai meat.








4 Comments to “Rugby”

  1. Kim the read more ? 🙂

  2. Sorry Harry. I realized as soon as I pressed ‘post’ that I’d forgotten the ‘read more’. I won’t do it again.

  3. I’m 53 Harry. I often have those. Blonde moments too.

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