Seven and a Half Reasons I Should Marry Antonella

1- She’s a teacher which means a neverending source of 20 yr old girls; it’s like a fountain of youth, of sorts
2- She looks totally hot in low cut dresses, and I'm sure if asked nicely enough she would make -out with a chick so that I could watch, allegedly
3- If I wanted some doughnuts at 3:30am and had to drive 45 minutes to get them, not only would she not mind, she would be so down
4- She can get out of anything. “Wanna come to my rugby game Ant? No, my armadillo is sick, and rugby’s stupid. But you don’t have an armi… Oh…”
5- Hot mullatto babies.
6- Her love of art and literature, is matched only by her love for chocolate monkeys*
7- She's the only Italian who hasn’t seen "The Godfather," which means if I ever develop a drinking problem I could sell her to a freak show for booze**

*Add half or one full shot of Rhum to one chocolate milkshake and enjoy
**I may have already developed that drinking problem

71/2- She’s the best

Happy Birthday Ant!

Russian Party

“They’re going there, we’re going to a Russian party”

Jorge is pretty cool, he wins most arguments we have because he has the capacity to recollect the oddest bits of data and he doesn’t get nervous when I run out of stuff to say and just ask “Wanna fight?”

A couple of weeks ago he said we were going to a Russian party and I was in. I think he needed a side-kick and I was happy to oblige. On the way to the party he informed us (we had taken on a straggler running from Jeep’s ex) that it wasn’t exactly a Russian party just a party that a Russian guy from his gym invited him to and he expects he’ll find either a bunch of very pretty people who don’t always go to the bathroom “for a coke” or very quiet tough guys.

We get to the club on the main and there is no one outside, well there are people outside but they’re not waiting to get in they’re smoking. We however are waiting to get in behind some very fancy velvet ropes. Jorge’s friend is there and the girl with ‘the list’ asks if we are on it…

Jorge’s friend points to the list and says “Here; you write here George plus two.”

It would be easy to stop here because this was the main highlight of the night and my life I still brag about being written on to the list and I was put down as “and two.” As good as this was though, once inside we were set up with a bottle of vodka some mix and a table to ourselves. It’s not like I had a big game the next day only St Lambert in the semi’s who we lost to twice in the season.

“Jorge I can’t drink anymore this has got to be my last.”
“You will drink this one and you will drink the next one after that, then we’ll talk.”

-two drinks later, shots of vodka chased with vodka cranberry-

“OK Jorge the next bottle has to be the last bottle”

I sobered up at half when we were down 13 points.

So fast forward to last night I get stinking drunk and the waitress thought I was hot so after the 2 hour open bar I got loaded and she ‘lost’ my tab. I’m more hung-over than I have been in years and although my sister says it’s because I’m old I feel like a stupid kid again. I was supposed to go out tonight. The plan was Thursday loaded, Friday loaded Saturday the epitome of decorum at Ant’s B-Day (So getting loaded during the day and trying to sober up before her dinner). I tried to chicken out and e-mailed Jorge and got this response:

I appreciate your loyalty. [blogspot edit] knows how much I don't want to be snorting [blogspot edit] off a [blogspot edit]'s [blogspot edit]. Partly because I prefer [blospot edit], but mostly because [blog spot edit] gives you a [blogpsot edit] one, making dirtier but more appropriate activities with the [blogspot edit] that much more difficult.I have a hockey game at 10:30. I should be ready to go out at 12:30. I don't know the details yet but I will let you know. And depending upon my level of scared-[blogspot edit], I may take pity on you. And by "may" I mean "won't". G.

I’m going to a Russian party, but first I’m getting loaded.

Saturday Night, BRFC Worships a god Named Debauchery

There is no sex in the VIP room, and everyone knows it, what they may not know is that there is no VIP room at the tennis club.

After a ‘quick one’ in the locker room and a few more and after a traveler or two to make room for the quick one or two and after a few to get started man did Chris’ wishes come true (please see "i wish my brother would loosen up and Ovett would tackle better"), well Ovett didn’t tackle like a man so I guess one of his wishes came true.
You know that song about irony by that girl; the one with the examples that they say aren’t really ironic? Well I’ve got a question. If someone comes up to you and asks if want to see one of our guys physically expressing spiritual love for his girlfriend and you say yes, because he claims he can show you exactly where. And you take pictures, I mean a picture… because you have a fancy phone. And at first the girl that he’s expressing his love for is really mad and yells DELETE IT!!!! About sixty times until you say but the picture is hot and you show it to her and her buddy and your buddy agrees, and then she says, ok send it to my e-mail then DELETE IT!!!!! And then the guy that busted that guy goes off some where and then somebody goes back to the guy that took the picture and says hey you guys want to see something and then you guys bust the guy that busted the first guy. And it’s dark so you can’t take a picture and you take video instead, which means audio (‘cause it’s dark) which I could post here but because I lack attention and I am a mean jerk I force you to email me at Ovett underscore Edwards at yahoo dot com instead. Would that be ironic? About the first guy busting the guy and then getting busted I mean?

BRFC Plays Like Men

Play your best don’t worry about the result, it will come.
There were three finals Saturday October 7th, six teams at least as many coaches plus captains and of those twelve or so people only one coach said that, and of our 22 players I am sure not one of us believed him.

The chance to beat Parc-O was perfect because it allowed for that fairy tale finish. Beating St Lambert was great, we lost to them twice during the year but Parc-O has been beating us for years and between you and me and the rest of the billions on the internet (of which I have 4 readers) Parc-O are better men.

Parc-O was up early by three points and had the wind behind them which made progress difficult for BRFC. We kicked when we should kick and weathered the storm when their fullback attacked us. We ran when we should run and dealt with slow ball and we held them to a lead of 7 points in the first half.

At half our coach explained to us that we are doing incredible because they only have a 7 point lead and have something called a huracan behind them, sources at the time told me that’s Spanish for “no finish” but an attempt to verify those sources seem to refute that finding and offer the translation ‘hurricane’ instead which also makes sense.

In the second half we pinned them back into their territory and took our points where we could. The team learnt how to play this year and the fact that we won is just a consequence of that. Now I get it. In an effort to provide at least one entertaining part of these write-ups we have an interview with Chris “But I tackled last week” Quinn.

Roger: So Chris you must be very proud of the win today, would you care to comment?

Chris: Why yes I would, Roger, even though we won I’d like to see Ovett “Like Corvette without the muscle” Edwards tackle just once like a man, and I hope my brother will finally loosen up and have some fun tonight.

Roger: -

Roger: You're speaking of course of your winger who tackled their 8 man on the sideline, you know Chris he went low and used good form and although he didn’t stick him he did stop him, do you care to revise your comment?

Chris: Stop him? That 8 man tripped over our winger’s labia and looked like he was laughing too hard to get up and keep going.

Roger: -

Roger: You know Chris that winger was a little outweighed and some thought he did well to go head to head with him and come out no worse for wear.

Chris: Whatever he’s soft.

Roger: You know Chris I, he, the winger in question let’s say, only had to tackle him once and I, he, the winger in question did it, you were supposed to tackle him 8 times and didn’t do it once.

Chris: Whatever shouldn’t you be playing in the junior division.

Roger: This interview is over.

BRFC Earns the Elusive

BRFC Earns the Elusive

Parc-O is not a bad team in fact they’ve been beating us like we were children for the past few years and we have had nothing to say until now. Parc-O, we all grown up.

It has been said that ‘Forwards win games and backs win championships’ and I guess we proved that this Saturday. I am of course just kidding. BRFC played well as a whole and that is why we won the Cup this Saturday. We put in so much work to get there, so many stairs, so many bridges, so many laps, so much standing at center field waiting for our team, so much cutting off our cojones to spite our wives.

I feel like I should have done this write-up half drunk on Saturday, when the feeling was fresh and emotion was running high, and I keep thinking of Chris “Hard Man” McCunn saying that there was something a little anti-climatic about the win on Saturday. I think I just figured out what it was and why we had to take a walk at midnight to where we did our work this year and put up with full frontal nudity from he who will be known as “Jim Twinn” because he begged me not to write his name but feel free to e mail me at ovett underscore Edwards at yahoo dot com for details. I think the reason is because we did the hard work this year. We ran our butts off at practice we even began to get quieter during practice. I think the championship is great and I’ve been smiling to myself for days now but overwhelmingly my thoughts are on the fact that we worked so hard this season not on the fact that we won on Saturday. I think I get it when our coach tell us that we only have to go out there and do the work and the score is just a consequence and I think I get it now when he is infuriated that we don’t treat practice like it’s a game. And I think I get it now when guys say leave it on the field but I’m sure that is only possible when you give a 110% and you do it because it is the right thing to do, not because it’s a big game or a championship game or your last game.

We win.

This is the poem that plays in my head when I’m not thinking about how to disobey my coach and my captain.

It is by Claude McKay and he is Black, there are no Black people in Argentina but you can’t tell.

If we must die, let it not be like hogs
Hunted and penned in an inglorious spot,
While round us bark the mad and hungry dogs,
Making their mock at our accursed lot.
If we must die, O let us nobly die,
So that our precious blood may not be shed
In vain; then even the monsters we defy
Shall be constrained to honor us though dead!
O kinsmen we must meet the common foe!
Though far outnumbered let us show us brave,
And for their thousand blows deal one deathblow!
What though before us lies the open grave?
Like men we'll face the murderous, cowardly pack,
Pressed to the wall, dying, but fighting back!

This is a poem that helps me get through the hard times when, disobeying my coach and captain bring me no joy and when resigning myself to go down with a fight does not comfort me. I dedicate it to Parc-O, who were, and are, as good a team as any that was on the field that fateful day in October. It is by John Donne and he is White, there are White people in Argentina but they are only White until they get here.

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

The Greatest Game on Earth

There are few things on earth sweeter than victory. Beating a team with at least two very loud cry babies on it, is one of them.

Supposedly out-matched and out-gunned BRFC was instructed to wear ‘the stupid face’ and there was no better way to describe what we went out there and did. Having lost two regular season games to the Locks, BRFC knew they were the underdogs that fateful day.

In perfectly articulate defiance of their record, BRFC played their best game to date against guys who couldn’t make their team worth more than the sum of its parts.

A cross between too many penalties, a healthy wind and a not unremarkable individual effort put the Locks up at least 10 points at the half.
Reassured by their coach BRFC went out in the second half almost certain that the Locks didn't get up by enough to secure a victory. A 10 point lead is not enough when you have the wind, they didn't do enough. So BRFC fought and fought and fought until they had 10 points and their opponents had 13. And we were awarded a penalty on their 5 metre line.

Then came the scrum.

Imagine. Beauty. In unified motion.

Then multiply it by three.

Imagine guys yelling and screaming and hugging and yelling. Then imagine there was still a minute or two left in the game and Tim “007 license to thrill” Brown is the only one paying attention and still playing defence. Worried? Don’t be. He caught the fastest man on the planet from behind dragged him out of bounds, gave him a lecture about respecting his elders and ended the game with BRFC leading 17-13. The only ones in our way of the cup and some sort of vindication for our past injustices are Parc-O, men who respect the game possibly more than us.

BRFC Just Doesn't Have It

We have been searching for the ability to do something all season. We have been trying to win a game our way and play our best without regard for what the other team is doing and although our game wasn’t as bad as last week we still can’t do it.

Ormstown gave up the game in the second half or at least the team gave up, with the exception of the fly-half and possible exception of the fullback. But BRFC didn’t punish them for that and make them pay, instead we lowered ourselves to their level. Our scrums beat them and our rucks beat them and we got around the field and we played harder than them but we didn’t play our best.

This was sorry performance by a team that claims they want to win a cup, and I don’t see any way they can do it if they are no able to make some changes to their mentality.