The Riot

We played the Chicago Riot this weekend. I did not get the start for the first time in two seasons. It is nobody’s fault but mine. I missed practice the last two weeks, the last game, and was late to the field prior to the game. I know, not very good team leadership I was whining about a few blogs ago. Actually, I was excited to see one of my junior co-workers get the call. I was the one who got him interested in Rugby and have been impressed with the drive and heart he has shown. He started at Flanker for the first time last week when I could not be at the game because of a previously scheduled event.



It is my understanding that he played a hell of a game last week displaying a lot of aggression and talent. I think he is finally starting to feel comfortable enough with the position and the game to play in a proactive manner instead of being reactionary. The impressive part is he has started that natural transition after only a few games. It has taken my a few seasons. I guess you CAN teach an old dog new tricks; it just takes longer.



Although we lost again we keep showing improvement as a team. Unfortunately, the season is not 16 weeks long. For example, this Saturday was the first time this season we had a lead. Jeff, playing scrumhalf instead of back, made a spectacular run up the middle and set up an easy conversion kick for Andy. The Riot struggled to move against our defense but got an easy tying score when we miss-handled the ball. We held tight from there until about the 32nd minute. Around the 32:00 minute mark they scored their second try. From that point on their skill and speed took advantage of our inexperience and lack of conditioning.



I got into the game at about the 55-minute mark. I felt healthy and was on an adrenaline high from playing spectator, cheerleader, and sideline coach for the better part of the afternoon. I felt I had a good game, making half a dozen tackles and agressively attacking into the rucks. In fact, the game was one of my more consistent games. I only missed one tackle that I can remember. Unfortunately, the runner took it downfield for 5 points. I played penalty free, which is a rare occasion.



Probably, the biggest thing was the epiphany that for the first time the it seemed game slowed down a bit and I felt I began to anticipate the action of the field. I was able to position myself for the play without having to sprint all over the pitch. The game is still at a speed where I am myopic as to only what’s in front of me, especially on offense, but I Saturday I felt more comfortable defensively than I ever have. It is a good- no GREAT feeling dropping a guy 20 pounds heavier than you when he trys to run you over or give you the slip. I felt like Paul Emerick (USA Eagles Wing and former Chicago Lion) after he dropped that Italian dude in the World Cup.



We gave up three tries while I was on the field and our guys were exhausted and flustered. However, several of the rookie players took it as a challenge and began to stoke the team’s fires late in the game. I think this was one of the reasons I left the field feeling a bit euphoric despite the defeat. The new guys are stepping-up and becoming the key factor to our success. They continue to improve individually and as a team we are starting to congeal. If we can keep the team focused, motivated, and together we will be a contender by next season.

Proud to be an American- U.S. Rugby in the RWC 2011

I have to start this blog by saying I am proud and impressed by how the U.S. rugby team accounted for themselves at the 2011 Rugby World Cup. While the competition for the Earl Ellis Cup continues in New Zealand, the team from the United States has finished their run and I have mixed emotions concerning the outcome.



To start, I was a bit disappointed in the overall U.S. media coverage of the World Cup. For a sport that should have natural appeal to the average American ,who has a unquenchable need for action and violence, the lack of marketing and media coverage was an egregious missed opportunity. That said, I found Universal Sports Networks coverage entertaining and enjoyable. Yet it seemed apologetic at times and did not take the opportunity to fully describe the grassroots movement that is rugby in America, the pssion of the sport, or even the fundamentals of the game. They treated it as they would have the America’s Cup competition or Pro-Am Bowling.



In that same note I think they missed an opportunity to create heroes for the next American Rugby team to strive to emulate. I started this RWC knowing almost the entire English line-up but only one American. How sad is that when I can’t even name my own countrymen in my favorite sport. In fact, I knew more names on the Irish team than on the U.S. team. This is partly due to the fact that I passionately watched every English 6-Nations match including the dramatic England v Ireland last match. In contrast the 6-Nations coverage was filled with players stories, rivalry drama, and even a bit of instruction.



Despite the media failure I came away from watching the U.S. in World Cup with a new group of heroes. I found myself rooting and cheering for guys named Ngwenya, Gagiano, Sifa, Malifa, And Smith. As a Flanker I watched the matches with myopic focus on the 6 and 7’s on the pitch. I have now become a unaoplogetic fan of the American flankers. Stanfill and Cleaver, despite their horrendous haircuts, were inspiring to watch. Their tireless and aggressive play was like watching a cross between Brian Urlacher and Peyton Hillis. They attacked every play with power and single-minded purpose and seemed to generate a mystical sense of possibility through selfless dynamic hardwork.



Additionally, the U.S. defense played the world’s top tier teams with inspirational gusto. The try-line stands against Ireland were more dramatic than what you will ever see on a Sunday in the NFL. The intensity and speed of the game created a tension that kept percolating to a higher level and every cycle that was stopped short by the U.S. line made me want cheer. Needless to say, I was proud of the effort of that game as well as the one against the Russians.



However, I was a bit disappointed in how Coach Eddie O’Sullivan approached the game against the Wallabies. I cannot argue with his logic; which was to rest the A team so that the team would have a better chance in the final game against Italy. A win versus Italy would have ensured the U.S. a spot in the 2015 RWC. I also recognize that the rest between games was unfairly slighted against the U.S. Only three days of rest between matches versus top tier teams is ridiculous and borderline unfair; especially, when teams like the All-Blacks had six and seven days rest between matches.



What I didn’t like was the fact that the Australian game was THE STAGE. It was the opportunity to show the world and particularly the U.S. media the gritty determination that is the essence of America. Coach O’Sullivan is complicit in the media’s ignoring the Eagle’s historic effort in the RWC by sitting his lead warriors at heir moment of glory. What would the world be like if Leonidas had sat the 300 when the Perisan "Immortals" took to the field? What if IKE sat the 101st during the Battle of the Bulge? He missed the social identity of America and in doing so lost an opportunity to expand the American support for the game.



Instead, of patronizing to the stubbornly aggressive and often reckless American nature that gave us the Boston Tea Party, Manifest Destiny, and Apollo 11, he chose to play it smart and safe. America does not want smart and safe. They want action and drama. We will take our Alamo's over smart and safe any day. We always have and we always will. They want heroes and epics. To me, that surrender was our biggest loss of the Rugby World Cup.

Sympathy for Namibia

Now I know how Namibia feels after they lost their match to South Africa Springboks 87-0. The Rockford Ravens similarly gave us a clinic in the sport of rugby. I lost count of their tries at around nine. They proved to be big, strong, and had an eye for making sound passes and timely cutbacks, which shredded our defensive line. I took two to three Gladiators to bring one of their runners to the ground. This left them with an advantage in every ruck and gave them the ability to overload our backs on the wings where they seemed to score at will.




We played hard and with guts, but guts are not enough at this level. I had the disappointment of re-injuring my arm at about the 30-minute mark of the game. It is frustrating because I was having a decent game. I only had one penalty (an all-time low for me) and was collecting a respectable number of tackles. In fact, it was on a tackle that I got hurt. I continued to play but later compounded the aggravation to my shoulder toward the end of the first half while making a futile dive to stop a breakaway Rockford back from scoring another try.



During the second half of the game I anxiously watched my teammates continue to heroically weather the punishment as best they could. As I paced on the sidelines, I ached to get in and help but a knifing pain in my back and shoulder cautioned me otherwise. I don’t know if my decision making process would have been different had I been an impact player. Although I was consistently making tackles and engaging in rucks my individual efforts did not seem to reap any game changing results. I guess I felt that if I kept playing I would be risking the rest of the season for a lost cause and still not help the team like a fresh pair of legs and a stout pair of shoulders would.



I have spent the weekend second-guessing myself even though my right shoulder continues to hurt when kept at certain angles (I dare not tell my wife how it feels as she will happily remind me that “she told me so”). I am a bit low feeling that I am not providing the lift my team needs and that I am not producing like I thought I would this season.

Forgive the whining, this article is not intended to be a “whoa is me” cry-fest. In fact, it gives me pause to appreciate players from places like Namibia, Romania, and even the U.S. These teams have been trounced by the world’s best during this World Cup tournament and continue to return to the pitch each match with the hope that they will “Shock the World”. This weekend I have wondered what is going through the minds of their coaches, captains, and players? Are they reflecting in all the things they did not do or are they enjoying the fact that they are given the opportunity to compete at this level and on this stage?



I like to think that they are similar to me, who, after swallowing the bitter pill of losing reflects on how he can do better and then looks forward to giving it another go. I feel that at my age I am only allotted a finite number of games; and like a punch card, each game gets me closer to the final punch. When that punch is I do not know but it is certainly closer than I want it to be. I know that the shoulder pain will eventually go away as will the memory of last Saturday’s beating. I hope the helpless feeling I felt on the sideline will disappear next practice as well. I just need to figure out how I can contribute more so that my team can finally quench our thirst with a sweet refreshing taste of victory.

Game Tomorrow

We have a game tomorrow. I am still sore and still from the last match. I fear that my age is finally catching up with me. I counter that dread with the accusation that I am not physically prepared for season like I promised myself I would be. I also take comfort in the fact that the team we played last week was good.



I hate that I am entertaining the idea that I am feeling aged and that my maladies are due to the progression of time. I am not ready to concede my youth to middle age. I think I know how Brett Favre felt during each of those comebacks. The desire to play the sport always seems to override the nagging pain and stiffness as well as common sense. I guess I can take some motivation in the fact that year after year he played the game with heart and made an impact on his team, which is all I really seek to do.

He, however, had over a decade of experience to impart on his fellow players. I still feel like a new guy. I find I am still learning something each game. Unlike a wily old veteran who survives by anticipating events because of his catalogue of experience, I still survive by generating motion; something that seems harder this week. I guess to the rookies I am a sage veteran, but the truth is I feel inadequate to the task of leadership because I am only a 4 or 5 games ahead of the rookies. But as one of my favorite quotes says "Leadership is action, not position". As long as I can still generate action I can make an impact.



This week's practice saw 26 players man the pitch. I think I speak for all of the guys who played during the Spring season, it was truly motivating to see. I can remember showing up to the Lindenhurst Gym with snow on the ground to run drills with 5 and 6 guys. In fact just 4 weeks ago it didn't look as though we were going to have enough interest to field a team. I hope the new guys get filled with a passion for the sport like I did my first year. It is why, despite the pain, I will lace up my boots and pull on my Gladiator green jersey for another 80 minutes on the pitch.

Fall Season Opener V Woodsmen

It has been awhile since I have written on this page. I should probably talk about the Rugby World Cup and write a discourse on the victory/loss the U.S. Eagles had versus the Irish or the underdog victory by the Irish over the Australian Wallabies (favored by many to win the Earl Ellis Cup), or the hard-fought victory by the U.S. over Russia. However, Saturday was the start of my third season with the Lake County Gladiators. I should have been adding to this Blog while getting ready for the season. Unfortunately, I have spent more time doing everything but Rugby. Quite honestly, it showed after the first 25 minutes on the pitch.




Playing our cross-town rivals the Schaumburg Woodsmen, we had a lot of new blood on the field; including two new guys from my work, which I worked hard to recruit (We had a total of 5 from my unit, including myself). They, on the other hand, are a proven and experienced team. They also have a number of former Gladiators on their starting squad. This made for aggressive play and hard hitting. For the first 25 minutes of the game we gave them a fight. Although the dominated the possession time our defense held time and time again. We may have bent but we never broke. I had a few bonehead plays like reaching in and playing the ball from the ground but neither had adverse effect on the score.


On the other hand I had a great hit on a guy who was easily 30 lbs heavier than I. He was a large ginger haired dude with a red beard. He looked like his profession could have actually been a “woodsmen”. He thought he could bowl me over with size but I went as low as my 42-year-old body could go and aimed my face cheek to his ass cheek. 185 lbs with momentum impacting below someone’s center of gravity will always have the desired effect. He lifted off the ground and went heels-over-head landing with a thud. I felt like I had made the highlight film of the World Cup. However, moments later, as I was rolling out of the way I caught a knee or a head in my upper back from the forming ruck.


Several minutes after my hit we made our first and only drive into their territory in the first half. Unfortunately they gained the ball back and used their speed and the breakdown of our transition to defense to score their first try with a succession of good passes and inspired runs. This first score opened the flood games to the Woodsmen scoring machine they scored three successive tries before I pulled myself. I was winded and not able to make it to the rucks or back on defense after they broke our gain-line. I also wanted one of my co-workers to get in his first game (His wife and friends came to see him play- I figured the more he played- the more he would love the game and I would have a convert for life).




I wish I could report that the fresh legs and injection of enthusiasm turned the tied but the Woodsmen scored again before the end of the first half. I sat the second half as the Woodsmen scored another two tries. However, it was mid-way through the second half when our offense started to click. After a penalty lineout, the Gladiator front pushed inside our 5 meter-line. Vinny, at the Scrumhalf, took the ball around the ruck an in for our first score. About 15-20 minutes later we scored again on a textbook play. We won a ruck and immediately passed the ball out to the backs. Josh Sanchez (one of my recruits from work) received the ball and proceeded to sprint to the try-line. Only one defender stood between him and 5 points. The defender tried to tackle Josh high (bad idea since Josh had at least 15 lbs on him). Mr. Sanchez lowered his shoulder and sent the defender flying backwards as he strutted across the line for our second and final score.


The play made was a sign that we can compete with the best in our league. As our new players gain experience and the team jells we may just win a few. The older players were happy, for once, and acted as if we had won despite the lopsided score. I was pleased that two of my recruits played all 80 minutes, got a try, and played a heck of a game. My other two recruits played at least 40 minutes, not counting Luis Gonzalez’s time in the sin bin for diving over the pile (which resulted in the final Woodsmen score).

The play of the team in our first contest, against a proven playoff quality Division II team is a lot to be proud about. Especially, since 3 weeks prior we only had 6 guys at practice. Looking towards the future there is much to be hopeful about. I just hope my swollen and sore body stops aching by Thursday’s practice, or at least by Saturday’s game versus the Rockford Ravens.

Not ready for Prime Time Sports Writer

Since the season began I have been in contact with the local paper trying to drum up support for my beloved Rugby club. They have been responsive, even to the extent of sending their Sports Editor and his son to cover the season’s first game. This Saturday I invited them again but they did not show. So I took matters in hand and wrote a short summary of the game and made an appeal to the reader to come and join us on the pitch.



I have been working diligently to recruit players from work. My efforts have given the team 5 starters including myself. You can count a 6th player indirectly as one of the guys I recruited brought one of our former colleagues to play. As a result of my efforts I have been put in charge of the recruiting effort for the fall season. I guess the four intense years as a Marine Corps recruiter in San Antonio, TX will now pay off. I am excited to try my hand at building a team. This especially exciting because it is in a sport that I knew very little about a year ago.




I like to think it is a one of those little life’s motivational truths that armed with a vision and drive you can achieve anything in life. Of course, it is easy to say that now, I haven’t done anything yet other than talk to a few people at work and write one article; but it’s a damn good start if I can say so myself. Who knows, maybe this blog will go from being a personal outlet to viral therapy for the masses? For now I will settle for the satisfaction of the small success of being in the local paper. Heck even Skip Bayless had to start somewhere.

The try that never was; or try and try again.

It was my best game so far, but one of the most physically demanding. We played the Northwest Woodsmen from Schaumburg Illinois, a team we merged with last fall before going our separate ways again this spring. It was obvious from the start that they had the advantage in speed and even size, but we were stronger up front. We used this to our advantage. We used our forwards to pound the ball over and over again. I got into a rhythm of following my locks and props into the ruck and acted as the push for the maul. It seemed that I was on the ground every third touch of the ball. This gave me opportunity after opportunity to either get my hands on the ball or make a play on it.

The Woodsmen benefited from their fleetness as their backs took advantage of missed open-field tackles to speed across the try-line, three times in the first half. However, one of their potential scores became a turnover when the back did not go to ground and was tackled by one scrumhalf and knocked the ball out of the field of play. Our first score came on the heels of the Woodsmen’s second score. For a moment, I thought I had scored the try. A ruck formed at about the 7-meter line. I saw an opportunity to pick-up the ball and slip around the side of the ruck and score. My problem was I thought the 5-meter line was the try line. So I dove in hard and crossed the 5-meter line with a thunderous rush. As soon as I hit the ground and there was a rush to ruck over me I instantly realized what I had done. So I presented the ball as quickly as I could, which then went across the try line the next play. You could say I loosened the defense up for the score.

During the first part of the second half we made a push for the lead. With the Woodsmen maintaining a 10-5 lead, we moved the ball steadily downfield. Our Hooker picked up the ball and rolled over several Woodsmen to advance the ball. As he was being wrapped up I moved in to support the maul. With my assistance and his “never surrender” attitude, He and I barreled through the last 10 meters of his 25-meter run for our second score. We missed the conversion to tie the game. I felt like I had a hand in the score even though my assistance may not have been that big a factor.


My big play of the day came about 70 minutes into the game. We had the ball at the Woodsmen 5-meter line and were set to score, but a small infraction gave the scrum to the Woodsmen. They won the scrum and quickly pitched it back for the punt. Having flashbacks of Lake Forest I sprinted and jumped catching the football style punt right in my sternum. I followed with my momentum toward the blocked punt racing to jump on the free ball for a score. Unfortunately, two Woodsmen were in position to jump on the loose ball and send it through the dead-ball line. Once again I was so close, yet so far away. Had I gotten my hands on the ball I would have been the hero, as we possibly would have won the game. Alas, due to a few injuries we were down to 13 players on the pitch, and the Woodsmen took advantage of it to showcase their speed and scored another try.


To add to the pain of losing I was spiked in my left ankle and hobbled for the last 5 minutes of the game. So far victory on the rugby pitch has been elusive, however, I am playing with more confidence and vision. I think that by this fall we will have gained enough experience to make us truly competitive.