Sitting in my hotel in Phoenix, Arizona I’m a little depressed and highly annoyed. Not because I’m alone. Not because I’m away from my family. Not because I didn’t pack any shorts for my trip to the desert. No. The reason why I feel like crying is that not one channel in a range of eighty is showing the much anticipated quarter final of the Rugby World Cup 2015, where South Africa is trying to beat Wales for a place in the semi-final. Yes, my dear friends. NOT FRIGGING ONE! What’s up with that?
It is because we annihilated the US team with 64-0 in the play-offs? Continue reading
We have this thing. With “we” I mean my friends and I. Some people prefer to do their thing in the comfort and privacy of their own home. Some even do it in the bedroom. We’ve found the best way to add spice to our thing, is to do it in the company of each other. It creates more atmosphere, ups the excitement level and it’s always a thrill seeing the expressions of my friends when our thing turns out better than we expected.
If the moment is truly epic, then there’s loud, roaring cheers and high-fives all around. And why not, most things are simply better when you do it with friends. Except off course falling out of a window. That would be bad with or without friends. Especially if the window is like really high and you end up falling on concrete and… sorry. That’s not our thing. Our “thing” is the LOVE of rugby. Oops. I meant to say wives, the fact that we love our wives. And to watch rugby. Continue reading
I’ve posted this before but there might be an odd chance that the Wife missed it. Here is the short, personalized version without a back story. The opening game is tonight and I’m running out of time. Let’s do this!
For the love of my life:
- Leave the remote in clear line of view. Do NOT move the remote from it’s regular storage space. If you suffer from a brief spout of insanity and decide to move it, you will hear deafening screams and an occasional f-bomb when I frantically look for it. It’s also your duty as a mother to protect Princess by warning her to leave the remote alone. Dude knows.
- If there is even a remote chance that you would actually be handling the remote, do NOT change the channel. Ever. If doesn’t matter how sick you are of seeing thirty grown men chasing an egg shaped ball. Do NOT change the channel!
- Do NOT ask for permission to watch Binnelanders during games. At best you will be ignored, at worst, well, I cannot be held accountable for my actions during this tournament. Don’t we own another television?
- Do NOT ask any questions about the shirt I’m wearing. It IS the same one. If my dirty shirt bugs you, then it should be washed when I sleep and ready to wear before I wake up. Unless I’m planning to sleep with it, as would be the case if the Boks are winning.
- Do NOT comment on the consumption of beer. It’s going to happen, copiously.
- Do NOT comment on the amount of friends running through the house. You might not care for the smell of testosterone, biltong, beer and the constant shouting but there are some great air-fresheners on the market nowadays.
- Do NOT comment on the fact that I might be watching a replay of a game and for the love of god do NOT take the side of the referee during said replay, unless off course I consider the referee to be the best human being on the planet. Besides you off course.
- Do NOT expect my normal level of attention. Well, maybe just a quickie, after the game, if our team won. But then I won’t be taking off my Springbok shirt. Don’t worry I’m planning to buy you flowers before the first game. Hopefully they would last for the full tournament.
- Do NOT ask any questions about the rules of the game. You will only get grunts. Unless it’s interpreted incorrectly by the idiot referee in which case everyone watching will have an opinion on how the rule should be interpreted. My advise would be to sit back and learn.
- Do NOT expect any help or assistance whilst a game is on. This includes, but are not limited to our house being on fire, you going into labor, the dog dying or one of our kids falling down the stairs. You are a strong, independent, gorgeous woman whom I know will be able to handle all of life’s little mishaps on your own. After you bring me a beer.
Let’s back the Boks!! Go South Africa, bring it home!!
Remember love, these are the times when we should remember our wedding vows, love you!!
Springbok warriors…our hope is in you!
The world is entering confusing times. And it’s not only because of spring arriving in the Southern Hemisphere when some animals will start humping like rabbits in time with the first blossom on a peach tree. It’s also because the world is about to embark on a quest. A quest that happens once every four years. A quest that requires fifteen fit and capable (depending on who you ask) warriors or lords from twenty different countries to go into battle for total supremacy. Supremacy of power and perseverance. Of speed and skill. Of attack and defense. Of scrums and line-ups and drop goals.
Once the final battle is won, the victors will stand proud in Twickenham, looking down at all the slain contestants who will worship them as gods. And the leader of twenty-two will wipe the mud and spit from his face as he drinks from the ultimate reward, the Web Ellis Trophy as winners of the Rugby World Cup 2015… Continue reading