Battle Scars

My ankle, part metal since 2001.

Whenever I tell people I play rugby their first reaction is disbelief.  "Tough sport," they say.  "Why would you play RUGBY?"  And the answer is simple.  I play rugby because I can.  I play rugby because women aren't supposed to hit, to slam each other to the ground, to run fast, to throw elbows or stiff arms.  But in rugby, I can do all these things.  I must do all these things.  And I play rugby because it's fun.

A Maryland Stinger's bruise from last weekend's match.

Sometimes, though, rugby equals pain.  But in rugby we see breaks, bruises, and blood as proof of our strength, courage, and dedication.  Our battle scars become status symbols.  Hell, sometimes I think we wear clothing cut just so others can evaluate the color palette of our bruises or the length and depth of our scars.  Those marks mean we have struggled, we have taken a hit, and we have survived to score another try, to support another scrum, and to win another match. That's why I play rugby.  

And maybe a tiny part of me plays rugby just to piss off my mom...