Confessions of a Rugby Virgin

Before last Saturday, I had lived my 63 years without ever having gone to a rugby match - or even having watched one all the way through - and though it might come as a surprise to some, I wasn't feeling any lack in my life because of it. I'm not particularly interested in sport. I might join in with the last minute excitement of other major sporting events (which shall remain nameless!) when England is on the brink of victory, but that's the extent of my spectator activity. So, I wasn't overwhelmingly predisposed to enjoying a rugby match, other than ogling strong male thighs and buttocks, which any adult female worthy of her sex is predisposed to enjoy, irrespective of age.

 I went along because the irrepressible Jill Tipping invited me on a 'Rugby for the Girls' outing to give my 'maiden' impressions. If nothing else, it would be an experience, I thought. The match was between London Irish and Saracens (neither of whom I'd heard of) and held at Madejski Stadium, Reading. To my surprise, I was entertained from the get-go. The day held not one dull moment, the excitement starting before the match with some unexpected moments with Shane Geraghty, found chatting informally with a few fans in the foyer. Although his name, let alone his talent, had so far escaped my radar, that didn't stop me being intrigued and enjoying the girls' excitement. They all had their pictures taken with him while I, by choice, stood off to the side and watched.
 
The weather smiled on us with a lovely sunny day and, thanks to 'Rugby for the Girls', we had front row seats, which came with the pleasing illusion of being within touching distance of a smorgasbord of delectably fit males. The Irish Drummers, playing before and throughout the match, brought a splendid sense of occasion to the whole proceedings - great fun. As for the match - well, most of the time I couldn't keep up with where the ball was. I was still watching tangled male flesh separating out into individual players, while a ball-centred drama (no pun intended!) had erupted in some other part of the field. I had to remember to pay close attention, but that was no hardship because it was an exciting, evenly matched game. A man sitting directly behind me frequently took issue with the referee and loudly proclaimed his displeasure, but he did not swear once. Nor did I hear anyone else swear - at all - all day. No roughness, no bad behaviour, nothing uncomfortable for the likes of me, who prefers a quiet life! So refreshing and civilised! Anyway, London Irish won. Yippee! That certainly satisfied my Irish ancestry!

After the game, we waited in the bar for the players to come and mingle. I noticed women of all ages there, some significantly older than me, which surprised and pleased me. It spoke so well for the sport.

The players began to arrive, all done up in grey suits, pink shirts and pink ties. They don't half scrub up well! Again, I preferred to just watch as the girls talked to them and had pictures taken with them. I was impressed: they were all so friendly and full of smiles, and not one bit arrogant.

Every player was both charming and totally approachable. They are real gentlemen.
 
By the end of a fabulous day, I was exhausted but very pleased to have lost my virginity. I'll be going back for more!