Wednesday, 25 June 2008

Finishing Touch

Last league game of the Touch season last night and I very nearly didn't make it (and in some ways I wish I hadn't).

I had spent most of the day suffering from nausea and stomach cramps courtesy of a bug, I suspect, kindly left at our house by my sister-in-law's 15 month old baby at the weekend. Come 7pm yesterday I was still feeling pretty grotty and was seriously doubting whether I'd be fit to play. Eventually I decided 'sod it - as it's the last game I should at least show up, even if I don't do much.'

As it turns out I was feeling reasonably ok come kick off and was able to play a full part (well, almost) in our 4-3 victory over the Tag Nuts. As a team we had a good first half, leading 3-1 at the break, the opposition's try having been very much against the run of play. In the second half, however, we didn't play very well at all, being way too static when receiving the ball and throwing needless passes which more often than not went to ground. In the end I'd say we were lucky to get away with a win.

My own personal moment of glory very nearly came in the second half when we created an overlap on half way and away I went, building up a head of steam down the left wing towards the line. Inexplicably one of the opposition (Colin, the Vets captain, as it turns out) set off in pursuit but there was no chance of him catching me and spoiling my moment. Sadly, no one told him that as, with the line beckoning, the mad bugger launched himself full length to pull off the classic 'tap tackle' - sending me crashing to the ground like a very large sack of potatoes. And I thought that Touch was supposed to involve minimal contact!

Unfortunately worse was to follow. Minutes later I was routinely acting as 'dummy half' and was bending over to flick out a pass when BANG! - a sniper hiding in the nearby woods shot me in the right buttock. Or at least that's exactly how painful I imagine being shot in the arse to be. I collapsed with a scream as my faithful old sciatic nerve managed to shift into an agonising position to leave me prostrate on the ground.

That was, naturally, the end of my participation. A sad way to finish what has been a really enjoyable season of Touch. The club physio managed to help relieve some of the pressure and get me mobile but the 20 minute drive home was sheer agony and I'm not feeling too clever this morning. Sitting at the computer isn't exactly the most comfortable of positions so I think I'll go and lie down on the floor somewhere...

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