Sunday, February 11, 2007

KSK Off-Topic: Big Daddy Drew’s Rugby Story

I spent second semester of junior year abroad in England (ten years ago. Fuck, I am old as balls.). If you attend college, and have the means to go abroad for a semester, and do not, you are a fucking moron. Here’s the money clip from Rules of Attraction to give you a refresher on the importance of visiting other countries in order to debase yourself:

My semester abroad was arguably the greatest time of my life. I lost my virginity (to a girl!). I got drunk at the pub every night (50p shots of Beam on Tuesday night!). I sampled the wares of kebab vans the nation over. I watched a soccer game and actually enjoyed it. The tutorial system my program set up meant I only had three classes every two weeks. I smoked hashish and got into an argument with a friend over whether tomato or vinegar was the most important ingredient in ketchup (my argument: It’s Heinz TOMATO ketchup, not fucking Heinz vinegar ketchup). And, I didn’t have to study a foreign language. Foreign languages blow. An amazing stretch. But, for the purposes of comedy, one story stands out above the rest.

The school I went to had about a million not-too-serious rugby clubs that were open to pretty much anyone, even a dipshit American such as myself. Rugby, if you don’t know, is like football, only with more running and cauliflower ear. You start off playing rugby thinking it’ll be cool. You get to run around and hit people. Sounds fucking sweet. Then you find out you have to play Second Row, which means you have to stick your head between the knees of the guys on the front line, grab their shirts by sticking your hands through their crotches, and then groan in agony as the entire scrum tightens and mashes your brain into a bullion cube. Rugby: it’s not that cool.

Nonetheless, I played. My reasoning was that I sucked at American football, so maybe I wouldn’t suck quite so bad at rugby. Wrong. I sucked. But it gave me a chance to hang out with the lads (that’s British for boys!) and get drunk afterwards. So I kept at it.

One night, I was hanging out with a bunch of people from another program at the same school. I struck up a conversation with this dude named Ben. I think his name was Ben. Anyway, it’s not important. So Ben and I were drunk, and he said to me:

“Hey, I play seven-on-seven rugby with a bunch of guys. We have a game tomorrow. Want to play?”

There is no Second Row position in seven-man rugby. This appealed to me greatly. So I agreed. This was a road game, so Ben and I arranged to meet with two other guys and drive out the next morning.

9AM, I showed up. We all packed into the car and took off.

Ben: How was your night, Drew?

Me: Fucking sweet. I got fucked up. Hooked up with a black chick. She was big! But I didn’t give a shit. More to love, am I right?

The car went silent. Oh well, I thought. It was early. Everyone was hung over or some shit. So I shut my trap and stared out the window. About five minutes later, a conversation started up between the other three guys in the car about which churches in the area they liked best.

Ben: I love St. Mary’s. You can really feel the Lord there.

Fuck. They were seminarians. All three of them, priests in training. In fact, not only were they all seminarians, but the team I was playing with that day was also made up entirely of seminarians. As was the team we were playing against. As was every single fucking team in that day’s tournament.

Deep in the back of my mind, I’ve always known that I’m going straight to hell when I die. But I try and keep that thought repressed, just like I do with that Davidoff Cool Water cologne print ad with the water splashing over this really ripped guy that I think I kind of enjoyed. But, when I was hung over and literally surrounded by holy men everywhere I turned, the former point tended to reinforce itself (and since they were all future priests, the latter one did as well). At one point in the game, an opposing player ran into me by accident.

Me: You fucking cunt.

Other Guy: (sincere) Oh, I’m so sorry.

Me: (thrown off by the incredible kindness) What? (immediately jacked up by another player because I let my guard down)

I spent all day at the tournament. The seminarians were, of course, all perfectly nice fellows. Downright jovial, actually. Still, it’s tough knowing you’re the one harlot in the convent, so to speak. I may as well have painted a red A on my chest. It made me think that maybe I should dedicate myself to being a better person. Maybe I should stop being such a self-gratifying dickface and actually contribute something to the world.

When I got back, I drank an entire bottle of Jameson, watched Caddyshack, pissed out the window, and had to be restrained by a friend from walking outside with my pants around my ankles (my exact words: "I want everyone to see my cock!"). Later that night, I masturbated and vomited next to my bed.

The lesson, of course, is never play rugby.


Signal to Noise said...

My semester in Europe was a haze -- the only truly clear memories I have are the photographs.

I wouldn't have had it any other way, really.

Martha Van Bork said...

Mmmm, black chicks.

Unsilent Majority said...

+10 pk

Larry Bird Flu said...

Great, 6 months of Drew talking about jacking it and nailing fat chicks.

Rugby is kind of badass though. Beats the fuck out of cricket.

sdm said...

jeebus, this blog is funny.

fire millen,


bizzo5000 said...

After watching that clip, it took me 5 seconds to read the entire post.

Communist Dan said...

Fuck yeah, Drew. I started out playing rugby when I was living in Canada over a summer... I walked up to a team practicing and asked if I could join in. Started off at outside center and two knee surgeries and several years later, ended up playing hook and loosehead for a team I helped found.

The greatest thing about rugby is that you have 30 guys on the field who are playing for the love of the sport and for 80 minutes and maybe a b-side later don't give a fuck about anything other than supporting your team in any way you physically can.

I also started a petition about a year ago to lobby for rugby broadcasts on ESPN, rather than dog shows and spelling bees... Help Broadcast Rugby on ESPN

Drew... use your powers of internets superiority to help the ruggers out. Cheers.

brazenindustriousness said...

Take the spelling Bee off the air?
Isn't Nascar now on the world wide leader of sports? I'm not sure what I really wouldn't want to have on ESPN. Guys on a field playing butt darts or the severely gay soap opera, that is the Nascar cirucit

Suss said...

If my company plays their cards right, I got two 2-week business trips to Ireland this summer.

And Drew, re: Black ass in England,

You can get that at home.

Grimoald said...

Ireland fucking rocks, also, so much underage hotnesss, if you're into that kind of thing.

Lou Pickney said...

Damn, that was a cool video clip. The Ministry of Sound in London -- that brings back some memories.

I spent a semester of school in England in 1998 and had the time of my life. I'd recommend a semester of college in Europe to anyone.

Unsilent Majority said...

I'd keep the spelling bee and lose the bowling.

Trader Rick said...

Can you bet on Rugby?

Dat RoRo Kid said...

I really should get around to adding Big Daddy Drew to my 'Heroes' on Myspace already.

Dat RoRo Kid said...

I really should get around to adding Big Daddy Drew to my 'Heroes' on Myspace already.

FenwayFaithful78 said...

Yeah Suss you can, but they don't have the hot accent.

I'm all for foreign pieces of ass. It's good to broaden ones horizons. Venture out and explore different cultures by hooking up with random foreign people. It's usually a hell of a lot better than eating their food and experiencing their traditions.

Mevs said...

Never anything but greatness out of you. You take me back to my college daze. Minus the rugby. Substitute the Jameson with Jack and we're equal.

jackin'4beats said...

The best part of Rugby is hitting people, or actually running them over on your way to a try. Frickin' sweet.

The accent makes the foreign hook up the best. Two words...

Welsh gals.

Chris(BessMervinGirlDetective) said...

I spent a semester abroad and the most important thing I took away from that experience was that Belgium Police are very strict on what you can carry back from the Netherlands. Still not allowed back in Belgium for another year.

bluebottle1 said...

Second row...stick your head between the knees of the guys in the front row? Oh, no, it's much worse than that. You stick your head between their asses. Second row is the armpit of the scrum. That said, rugby is killer. I played when I went to school in Edinburgh. It's balls out for 80 minutes, no pads to slow you down, and tons of fun on a muddy field.

Tranny McHardpenis said...

I have a story exacty like that, minus everything except the Jamesons, the masturbating, and the puke.

the butler said...

Good God that's funny as hell. I loved how a word like "cunt" could be used so often over there. Even as an adjective: "cunting".

And I got so sick of that hash/tobacco bullshit. Thank God for EasyJet's cheap ass flights to Amsterdam.

Vee said...

I'm guessing your seminary pals didn't know any verses from the "Jesus can't play Rugby" song?

"Jesus can't play Rugby cuz he only has 12 friends"

"Jesus can't play Rugby cuz the ball falls through his hands"

Yeah, I'll see you in hell too.

jackin'4beats said...

I remember cringing the first time I heard that song, until the 15 beers I just drank kicked in, then I didn't feel quite as dirty.

BDD, you're not a real rugger until you've had the "honour" to shoot the boot.

Communist Dan said...

"Jesus can't play rugby because the jew won't pay the dues."

"Jesus can't play rugby because the mother fucker's dead."

"Jesus can't play rugby because he never really lived."

All wonderful lines from the song to sing when hosting a social for a local christian college rugby club.

Vee said...

"Jesus can't play Rugby cuz his sandals don't have spikes"

Grimey said...

"Are you telling me the Lord Jesus Christ couldn't hit a curveball?"

Anonymous said...

Drew, this post is everything Bill Simmons wishes he could have written 4 years ago when he still had a decent fastball.

The noral of my story is that you're more entertaining than Simmons ever was.

Moral of my rugby story is never hook up with a chick that plays on the girls rugby team...stupid alcoholic haze.

SatanSmiling said...

One of the best things about playing rugby is all the stories you get from the drinking sessions. We were on tour in Nottingham a couple of years ago, and someone left our mascot (a dead duck), minus its head in the showers of our youth hostel. We got kicked out and had to sleep outside a train station still dressed in our Robin Hood outfits from the party earlier.

Son of Brock Landers said...

if your dorm is as cool as mine was in england, then you had a sink in the room which you could piss into when drunk instead of walking down the cold hallway to get to the bathroom.

i second your push of the study abroad idea. Gov't subsidized drinking and thin women go together well.

CounterRuck said...

Rugby, Over Zealous Christians, vomitting next to your bed, caddyshack? Sounds like South Africa in the 80's

(All except the black chicks part. but look we fixed that part now.)

art said...

if I were the marrying kind
I thank the lord I'm not sir
the kind of girl that I would wed
would be a second row's daughter

because I'd sniff ass
and she'd sniff ass
we'd both sniff ass together

we'd be alright in the middle of the night
sniffing ass together

SPORTS! said...

Spain >>>>>>>>> English bullshit
Italy >>>>>>>>>