The State of Play: Rugby in America

It is with a coin toss that the breath-taking action begins. A group of well-muscled men wrap their arms around one another in almost an embrace. It is not with love for one another but a precursor to a game that will most certainly be inundated with aggression and raw strength. It’s a battle. It’s a game. It is a game filled with tradition and passion. The sound of breath-taking hits (literally) and grunt filled scrums, drown the audience cheering for their favorite teams. It is the game of rugby, but in some countries, it is more than a game, it is a lifestyle, and at times, a religion. But it has yet to be accepted as a collegiate varsity sport in America.

When examining popular sports in America, hardly any sport can tackle the phenomenon that is American football. Since 1965 professional football has ranked as the most popular American sport according to the Harris Poll, beating out number two, baseball, almost two to one. However, across the pond from the U.S. and around the world, another sport reigns supreme. Rugby, often referred to as a hooligan’s sport played by gentleman, has a following that spans nations and generations, and in at least one instance, has bonded a divided nation.

But why has rugby not taken off in the States as it has in other countries? Some argue finance and others say nothing can beat the popularity of American football. The UK paper Wales On Sunday published an article examining the ties and financial differences between football and rugby. “American football and rugby union have always been intrinsically linked. Rugby union forms the basis of the multi-million dollar world of the NFL across the Atlantic… There is no doubt the NFL has left the game it originated from miles behind when it comes to professionalism, money and sheer show business” (“Union”, 2008, p. 16).
Kids in America can quote Yogi Berra no matter their age, most (but not all) can tell you which direction Babe Ruth called his shot. They know how much the highest paid football player makes, and they surely know the number one draft pick. Yet it is not until their mid-twenties do they even learn of the game of rugby. “Rugby… has not caught on in America in part because football is ingrained as the nation's sports. Organized American rugby competes against the cash-rich football industry from the youth level to the NFL” (Lewis, 2009, p. 1C). Similar to soccer, which continues to compete against the NFL for face time, rugby’s popularity worldwide is undeniable. According to the International Rugby Board, the governing and lawmaking body of rugby union, rugby’s World Cup is the third largest sporting event in the world, just behind the summer Olympics and soccer’s World Cup. “More than 2.25 million fans attended the 2007 Rugby World Cup and about 4.2 billion television viewers tuned in globally” (“Rugby”, 2009).
Even though the steps may be small, Americans who are loyal to rugby are making progress in promoting their beloved sport, and game’s impact on America continues to grow. Even though the US national team, the Eagles, is ranked 17 in the world and is considered a “second-tier” team “the sport is growing nationally. USA Rugby has more than 2,000 clubs and 65,000 players registered. More than 22,000 are classified as Teen Male players, ensuring the sport's next generation is prepared” (Lewis, 2009, p. 1C). However, in countries where rugby reigns supreme, kids play entry-level rugby barefoot at the age of four, tackling like Troy Polamalu, evading defenders like Barry Sanders.
Men’s rugby teams can be found in most cities across the country. These teams are composed of professional men who are willing to spend 3-4 evenings a week away from work and their family to be a part of a community of athletes. Most could be described as weekend warriors, some pride themselves on their party habits, but all identify themselves as rugby players. Besides the occasional weekend pick-up game of basketball, no other sport has this type of organized following.
The rugby community is small but passionate with deep ties and a common goal to increase the game’s influence in America. With the hard work of organizations such as USA Rugby and the US Collegiate Rugby Association, along with word of mouth support from players, small steps are being made toward increasing support and participation in rugby. Americans are slowly popping up in European leagues, such as the Super 14. An even larger number of foreigners are popping in up in American rugby leagues, most pursuing the prosperity that America has to offer but not wanting to let go of their roots. “Rugby people of several generations say the sport is taking off in the United States, with a 25 percent rise in registered players since 2005” (Vecsey, 2009, p. 19).
In just the past year, rugby has made a number of appearances in the country’s headline news. On October 9, 2009, the International Olympic Committee voted to re-instate rugby as an Olympic sport to be played in the 2016 Rio de Janeiro games. This was a huge step for the rugby supporters. 1924 was the last time the game made an appearance at the Olympics. In one of the most memorable rugby matches, the United States clutched the gold away from the French team on their home turf. The Sydney Morning Herald described the scene, “The Americans had their clothes stolen during a training session, and some were spat upon in the streets. A tall wire fence was erected inside the stadium to restrain the chauvinistic crowd baying for a French win. The American anthem was booed by a crowd of about 40,000 spectators. The American 17-3 victory led to further disruptive behaviour by the incensed spectators” (Zavos, 2008, p. 34). Rugby associations across the world look at the inclusion in the Olympics as a huge step for rugby globally. With the interest of Americans and their money, rugby could possibly become a more profitable sport. “Rugby has spent years trying to penetrate the huge markets of China, India, Russia and the Americas and now has the perfect tool” (Kitson, 2009, p. 13).
Even though the US national team, the Eagles, will be playing in the Olympics, their competitors will most likely have much more experience and practice time. It was not until 1995 that the International Rugby Board allowed players to get paid. Before that, the game was about pride for one’s country and the spirit of competition. Today, the salary of a rugby player can range anywhere between 100-650 thousand dollars. That salary does not include endorsements and bonuses such as New Zealand promising to “pay its players a $100,000 bonus for selection to the national team. Players also receive a share of the national team's revenue” (Lewis, 2009, p. 1C). In an article published in the New Zealand Herald, former All Black captain Stu Wilson talks about the consequences of the game being made professional, saying “back then players played for the love of the game whereas nowadays it is a career” (2010, sports section). However, in America, rugby players still play for the spirit of the game. “The U.S. team is composed of amateur players who receive small per diems from USA Rugby while competing at the highest level in one of the world's most popular and dangerous sports. Ranging in age from 19 to 35, the 33-man team is a microcosm of America, counting among its players is an Air Force lieutenant, college students, teachers, bankers, security guards and fathers” (Lewis, 2009, 1C).
USA Rugby believes there is a misconception across America that rugby is a game full of fights, whose players are missing teeth and can most likely be found at the bar imbibing more than a normal amount of beer and singing songs that would make any mother slap their heathen son. Unlike American football, where players are padded from almost head to toe, rugby players “dress for the game like soccer players, with no pads or protection beyond, sometimes, mouth guards and leather helmets designed to prevent cauliflower ear” (Crisp, 2009). Videos are swarming YouTube showing “rugby’s most brutal hits” and bloodied players screaming on the field.

What American parent is going to want their little kid to be associated with that kind of aggression? And if America does start embracing rugby, how will the transition be from football hits to rugby hits. In an article published by Scripps Howard News Service, author John M. Crisp believes the transition would be a tough one, stating “Because behind the protection of high-tech helmets, shoulder pads, hip pads, knee pads, and so on, young American boys learn to think of their bodies as invulnerable missiles to be hurled sacrificially at a target without much consideration for the consequences. Therefore they never learn how to protect themselves on the playing field or, so the British rugby players reasoned, their opponents” (Crisp, 2009). But does more protective gear mean more protection? Crisp thinks not, commenting, “The fact is, if we really were interested in making football safer for the players, we would provide them with less protection, rather than more, which might encourage their natural instinct toward self-preservation to take over, much as it does in rugby.” (Crisp, 2009).
Even in Scotland, where rugby is the most popular sport, public health officials are questioning the safety of letting school children play rugby. In 2008, London’s Daily News published an article on the dangers of rugby for pupils, stating, “Scotland’s poshest schools were yesterday accused of putting children in unnecessary danger by forcing them to play rugby” and that “one of the nation's leading public health advisers, claimed teachers were encouraging 'aggressive, gladiator-style behaviour' that led to 'totally avoidable injury'” (Bugler, 2008, p. 33).
In my thesis, I would like to investigate through interviews, research and first hand account, the state of rugby in America. Why is it not profitable? Is it due to the set up of the game? Or is that American’s have already chosen their heroes in football players? What does it take to promote a sport? What would happen if American rugby became professional? Would the spirit of the game be lost as some say has happened with professional football? What are the statistics in injuries in football versus rugby? Are players more at risk because they do not wear any protection, or are they less likely to take such hard, out-of-control hits? What impact does rugby have on its players in their professional lives? Is there an underground “fraternity” that allows its members connections and privileges they may not have had without rugby.
Article I am proposing to write:
1. History of Rugby in America
2. The State of Rugby in America
3. The Beckham of Rugby
4. A Day in the Life of a Rugby Player (my first-hand account)
5. The Business of Rugby: How to make Rugby Profitable
6. The Future of American Rugby-from the Olympics and Beyond
7. Youth Rugby
8. Comparison of injuries in American Football vs. Rugby and/or American rugby vs. Foreign Rugby
9. Social Ties: Rugby as a Fraternity

Entitled

So, here it goes...

I was walking into Subway to grab a sandwich after a long morning of work. Out of nowhere, a lady, who was obviously in a rough patch of life, came up to me and asked if I could help her. I offered to buy her a sandwich, in which she gladly accepted. We walk in...the servers take her order...she starts YELLING at them that they are making the sandwich all wrong. The workers barely spoke English...the fight (and my awkwardness of being associated with this lady) escalated...much was lost in translation...and a final product of white bread with mayonnaise first, two pounds of pickles, no tomatoes, 6 banana peppers, 4 cucumbers, salt, pepper, and two slices of turkey was born--to be exact.

Now, I don't mean to be cynical...but wouldn't it have been sufficient to just have ordered a plain turkey sandwich and said a simple thank you? hmmm

Thank you

I can't believe I am posting this GROSS story.

I woke up this morning, and while my eyes were still shut, my ears perked up to the sound of a drip drop outside my window. It must be raining. I love the rain. I truly look forward to it, and ever since I packed my bags and moved from my childhood home in the desert of Texas, rain has gradually become more and more a part of my life. Gainesville has a rainy season, where it rains pretty much every day. In my tiny garage apartment in Houston, I would bundle up in a blanket and sit by the window watching the raindrops slither down. But it was during my time at Baylor that rain created the story that I am about to tell. I can't even remember if it was fall or spring, but after being cramped up in our dorms rooms all day, my friends and I decided to get out. It was the rain that precipitated a dashing game of mud flag football between a bunch of co-eds (okay, so maybe it was just my girlfriends. I just wanted it to sound like I hung out with boys in college.) We were only freshman (shout out to The Verve Pipe!) and we were about to gain a big lesson in checking out your surroundings before partaking in any spontaneous sports games. (To this day, this lesson has served me well. Just the other week, I was planning to dust off my old basketball and shoot a few hoops. Luckily, I "checked out my surroundings" and found out the court was actually sinking sand. Close call!) I digress...back to Waco...Next door to our chosen playing field was Brooks dorm. I was a beautiful old building, but after years of college kids running through its halls, Brooks' functionality and construction had begun to wither. Unfortunately, I think I have been out of college long enough to say this building has been torn down. It any case, when I was at Baylor, Brooks was where all the "smarties" lived...Okay, I am going to stop being polite and be honest...I am sure there were some exceptions, but Brooks was the DORK dorm. I am talking tape on the bridge of their glasses, pants above their belly button, and snort-filled laughter nerds. (Who probably own the banks that I am borrowing money from right now.) AS we were gleefully playing in the "mud" that day and with each play that was made, a stench began to waft into the air. I suppose we paused a moment to ponder the reason, but the energy and competition of the game got the better of us and we declined to investigate further. If you don't know me, I must let you in on a little secret. I have SKILLZ when it comes to full contact sports. (There should be a typing symbol for sarcasm). Anyway, in what I remember as a pivotal play in the game, I ran with the ball toward the goal line, pushing off a Tri-Delt and a Kappa, running over a Pi Phi and finally sliding past the line face first to take the score! My newly dyed red hair (anyone remember that?) was matted with mud and I had a little piece of mud pie in my mouth. But victory was mine. As I was doing my victory dance (my signature is the "shower" move, lather it up and wash it off!), I began to notice everyone inspecting their skin. Now, it was well known on campus that the dilapidated Brooks had been dealing with plumbing problems for quite some time, but it wasn't until our skin began to break out in rashes and someone mentioned the word "manure" that we realized what we had been so enthusiastically playing in. The game was over. We trudged back to Collins in silence. I am sure that we thought our lives were over. But in the end it all washed off of us. And the nerds got their revenge. They @#$% on us.

A prescription for Italian Chicken Ravioli Soup

Momma knows best. (cough, cough, sniffle, sniffle). And my momma says chicken noodle soup heals the soul and body. I don't know about anybody else, but every year around January, February or March, I tend to contract (it's weird how that word is both a noun and a verb...) cold/sinuses/flu-ish symptoms. This 'sickness' is a self diagnosis, because when I was a little girlie-girl, my daddy didn't want to spend the money for a doc visit and would just prescribe antibiotics (yes, I am the reason there are super-bugs now). Now that I am married, my lover/doctor simply says "this too shall pass." So, it was this lack of medical care that I have resorted to my momma's prescription, chicken noodle soup.
I don't mean to be rude, but don't you agree that chicken noodle soup (CNS) can be bland? Even though this little prescription may cure my cough, cough, sniffle, sniffle, I almost dread eating it. So, last night while my head was spinning and my body was aching, I found a deliciousness recipe to take place of the bland version of CNS.

Italian Chicken Soup for the Soul
1 Tbsp of olive oil
1 onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, diced
3 cloves of garlic, diced
1 Tbsp of dried basil
2 Tsp of fennel seed
5 cups of chicken broth
2 bullion cubes
2 carrots, diced
2 zucchini, diced
1 9oz pkg of cheese ravioli
3-4 chicken meat, cooked
Salt and pepper
Fresh spinach
Parmesan cheese

(Please season as desired with salt and pepper throughout cooking process. I tend to season with each addition of a new ingredient.)
Pull out a very large sauce pan or a pot. Add olive oil. Saute onion on medium heat until translucent, add bell peppers, garlic, basil and fennel seed. Cook 2 minutes. Add chicken broth and bullion cubes, turn to low and simmer (covered or uncovered, your preference)for 10 minutes. Add carrots and zucchini, cook for another 5 minutes, or until carrots are tender. Bring soup mixture up to a boil and add ravioli. Cook for 5-7 minutes. Add cooked chicken and warm through. Put fresh spinach into the bottom of a big bowl and pour hot soup over spinach. Top with Parmesan cheese and freshly cracked pepper.


After shoving a few bowls of this delicious concoction down my throat and sipping on Alkaseltzer Cold and Flu nighttime, I woke up this morning feeling like a NEW woman!!!

Working as a "married team"

As an old married woman (I have been married for 2 years and 2 months now!), I believe that the key to a happy marriage is being a team. As simple as this sounds, it can make all the difference in the world, if a husband and a wife have hobbies together, cook together, clean together, etc. For instance, Bo is an amazing photographer. He can take portraits or landscapes, and with turn of a few knobs on his fancy camera, adjust the photo into art. So, when he goes out to take pictures, I love to go with him. I often point out a "picture perfect" scene, and he snaps away. Many times, we end the day at sunset, maybe have a glass of wine or two, and we know we spent the day as a team, working together.
Here are a couple of my favorite pictures he has taken!

A video on breastfeeding benefits

Saturday morning happiness

My baby loves pancakes. And I like to make my baby happy.
On the rare Saturdays that we get to wake up together (he hasn't had a day off in six weeks), our favorite thing to do is slowly wake up over a period of a couple hours, (this part I must edit), and then stumble into the kitchen to make pancakes. I am not sure if I have mentioned it before, but my mom is a cook like none other. She is fantasmatic! HOWEVER, in all my days, I have never tasted yummy pancakes like Bo makes. I think I said "I love you" right after I tasted his delicious fluffiness for the first time.
So, I thought I would share with you guys a few tips to make pancakes that make your tongue sing with joy.
1. Don't over mix the batter.
2. Let the batter REST. This might be the most important tip of all!!!
3. Test the hotness of the pan...
4. And as soon as the edges of your pancake starts to brown, you should flip it. NO sooner, NO later!

Make these and make your day!