On Saturday, we started the day with a team breakfast at The Humber Room; the fine dining restaurant which is part of the Food and Beverage Service (Management) Program. We were served fruits, pastries, muffins, scrambled eggs, bacon, back bacon, ham, coffee, tea, and orange juice. It was a hell of a way to start the day and makes for good team bonding. Soon after, we boarded a coach bus (circa … oh, say … 1964) and headed on our way to the Kitchen.
Along the way, someone mentioned that we’d already clinched a playoff berth due to point differential. The captains and some of the more veteran guys (myself included) knew this, but weren’t about to say anything. The reason was that we didn’t want the guys to let up any on the field. But when the cat was let out of the bag … the damage was done. We lost the game, even before we played. So, indeed, we lost our game. We lacked the heart to compete.
When we got back to town, the core of the squad decided to ham it up. Dean-O was bouncing at Cafe Havana, so we decided to meet up there. Problem was, nobody got there – for various reasons … mainly being people getting drunk and couldn’t drive, or getting lost altogether. I was the only guy that showed up. I brought Babydoll and Lilith with me. The night was a bit of a bummer.
The girls went to do some dancing, as I hung with Dean-O for a bit. He was working the back door/hallway area. A bit of an fight broke out, and I was asked to jump in and help. Soon after that, Dean-O‘s boss asked if I’d like a job in security. I figured since I’m an night owl, the money could help. So I said I’d think about it.
Just a little bit before I left the club, I was actually hit on by a little latina hottie. She asked me if I still work at some bar. I said no, I don’t work security. She thought I was working at that bar and that I had left to work elsewhere. Sounds like a line, eh? Well … she then tells me about that bar and that I should drop by and try it out. She’s a regular … blah blah blah … She gives me her name and number … and leaves … I throw the number away and turn to Dean-O … who gives me a look and says “… you dick!”.
Anyhow, I’ve got a full week of rugby practice ahead of me. Coach ran us to the ground today. Before the practice, the coaches and the captains had a hour-long meeting about the squad. They were decided on which guys were key and where some guys would fit. They also decided which guys would be sitting. For the most part, the coaches and captains agreed. But there were some questionable decisions made by Coach.
Anyhow, one of the ladies from the women’s club dropped by. Rugby Chick had some free time, so she came down to the field to watch us practice. She once again asked me to coach the women’s team next year. I still felt that it was too soon to make a decision, so I politely declined to answer. Nonetheless, we went for a beer after the practice.
Tuesday and Thursday are the last practices, with one players’ practice on Wednesday. Time to gear up for the weekend ….
“No pads … No shifts … No time-outs … 2 hookers … 80 minutes … Both ways … That’s rugby …”