It has been a while I know. Such has been the frenetic nature of my life that I am now reduced to catching up on emails and making contact with you all on Saturday afternoons at the university. Yes, this is certainly sad in some ways, but it also points to a very full life that has now unfolded for me in Medellin. Not a bad thing!
This post is not going to be about everything that has unfolded in the last couple of weeks because there is just too much to write about in one go. I'm going to try and catch up between now and the end of the Holy Week (Starting next week Friday) seeing as that will be a quiet time with no classes...I hope!
Right, well onto the purpose of this piece then, namely: My 'debut' with the University of EAFIT's rugby team! Yes thats right ladies, Hilton is showing everyone what he's made of in the sport of gladiators, right here in Colombia!
I put off going to practice for a couple of weeks because i was trying to buy myself some time to do exercise and to get fit enough to unleash something close to my true potential. I exercised at home and tried to get as ready as i could before reporting for practice. Well, that possibly did not make that much of a difference when I finally took part in my first full practice this past week.
Medellin has had a sh#tload of rain in the last 3 or so weeks and the field that we practice on (something like a 'B' soccer field) was closer to a swamp than a place to practice rugby on. I attended my first practice with T-shirt and tekkies (running shoes) seeing as i had little else. Most players, upon hearing that a South African was at the practice, came to welcome me warmly and all scrutinised me carefully as if my country of origin somehow gave me superhuman strength and skill in this game. Maybe they weren't convinced instantly. Even though Colombians are generally not that big, these guys were certainly on the large side and various ogre-like fatties crushed my hand and slapped my back as I nervously scrutinised the morass that we were to practice on and waved goodbye to what used to be a good T-shirt. I'm definitely below average size in the team. Everyone wanted to present their credentials to me by either telling me what they knew about the game (e.g. 'eeeeh maaaan! yooooo weeeeenaaaaa theee worraald kaaaap! Cooool! Soowt Aaafricaaa eeeessaaa straaang no?') or by acting super tough or by inviting me to beers later or by talking tactics (?!). During the warm up laps the two or three that could speak english were trying to strike up conversation with me while I was attempting, in vain, to jump over the biggest puddles. Interestingly, I did meet a psychologist from Bogota who works with internal refugees and I'm planning to have a chat to him in the coming weeks. A good bloke!
Practice started fine and after some fitness we started playing - two teams running at each other and 'semi-contact'. Its fair to say that I was on form: breaking line with expert-like dummies, catching the kicks with consumate ease, passing crisply and drawing the man beautifully, beating my opponenents on the outside with my natural speed, coming through at pace! I wish my father could have seen it! Pretty soon I was a marked man and started getting the attention of a number of players everytime I got the ball.
It was at this stage that I started running out of puff and I was wheezing horrifically after about twenty minutes. The captain and coach then also stopped the game to discuss my obvious impact: 'eh heeeeltooon...we starta play feeeerst gaaayam theees weeekend! yooo aaaah fooooooolbak ok?'. I had to protest furiously by telling them I hadn't played in seven years (well more like ten actually) and that it would take me 2-3 weeks to get fit and hard enough to last 80 minutes in a match. The coach would not accept me missing anything more than the first game, to which I reluctantly agreed. He seemed more interested in getting my medical insurance details (actually only travellers insurance but it'll have to do) and all my contact information, including my home address! I understood later that it was to ensure that i will never be able to escape the team. At this stage cramps were setting in and I was not happy with how fresh everyone else still looked!
Pretty soon I could hardly run anymore and pride was getting me through more than any physical reserves i still had left. After my calves cramped like two tennis balls for the 4th time the coach switched me to defense cus that was supposedly easier. At this point it is important to explain that when playing rugby it is not the fatties that usually pose the biggest threat, but more the faster players, and if you happen upon a fast fatty you have real problems. Well I confirmed this old truth when a bald 100+ kilogram grunting brute broke the line and I was all that was left between him and the line. I grimly dropped my shoulders and tried to hit him in the midrif without dislocating my shoulder. To say that he bounced me about 5 metres would be an understatement! Goodness that hurt! Turns out I at least slowed him down enough for two others guys to take him down.
I struggled through the rest of practice and by the time I left for home I looked more like a brown limping and wounded swamp creature, covered in mud from head to toe. Why was I so much dirtier than everyone else? The coach and two senior players then offered to share a cab with me and I accepted the gesture. The coach wanted to see where i lived and repeated continuously how close he lives to me. I smiled weakly and by the time i got home it seemed that rigamortis had set in to my legs.
The next day I was walking as if both my legs were in splints and I'm actually still walking funny and it is now Saturday! I again went to practice the next night after going shopping for some soccer boots (the rugby variety can obviously not be found for love or money), old T-shirts, running shorts and a mouthgaurd which I found at a boxing store. I was severely hamstrung if you'll excuse the pun. More tackling happened and the glossy veneer of my first night's fame started to disappear as I got smashed in the face (another fast fatty), had two of my fingers pulled back in a ruck, bashed my knee something fearful, severely bruised my bicep and ripped one of my precious ears at the back. I started feeling like a street dog that had been in too many fights and I was viewing the other players with a one-eyed grimace as i waited for the next onslaught. No-one seemed to notice though and soon i was practicing with the run-on team. The coach gamely tried to convince me again that i should play this weekend and i just managed to get out of it. I asked one of the other player why the same guys were always having to tackle us and we always got to attack. He said that those were the 'new guys' who had only been with the team for a couple of weeks. I told him that I had been with the team for a day and asked why I was different. I got the now familiar Colombian-shrug in response with a predictable, 'Well, you're South African...right?'. hmmmm. Our first game was the next night at one of the smaller fields next to the big soccer stadium in town and I promised to attend as a show of support, although I could see the coach scheming to find ways of getting me to play.
On my first night I was also roped into a rugby tour to another town called Pereira this coming weekend. Apparently we'll be playing a number of matches and get to do the whole tour thing with a bus and staying in a team hotel. Quite cool and i'm excited to see another city.
After my second practice and once again covered in mud, the coach deposited his precious 'new signing' at home once more and feigned concern as he told me to rest. No kidding @sshole! I needed painkillers to sleep. Yesterday (Friday) was worse and even my spanish teacher was concerned at the visible bruises and scabs all over my body. I soldiered on and dragged my crippled @ss to the match. Thankfully I didn't have to play but the coach made sure that i was taking notes and acting like some sort of 2IC technical analyst.
Here are some pictures of the field for the first match:
You will notice the absence of rugby posts...I asked a team mate about this and he said that they simply 'imagine' them extending above the soccer posts. Quant!
My team is the one in blue.
Well, the team was annihilated and played pretty badly, it must be said. One guy seemed pretty good though and I asked the coach who he was seeing as i did not recognise him from practice. Turns out that he plays for the national team!
The sport here is certainly something different. I can't understand sh#t during the team talks and they have some strange ideas, but I am glad to be playing for sure. This could certainly not happen in SA and more generally I can't spend nearly as much time being active back home. That's because I walk everywhere here and public life is so much bigger and more accessible. Quite seriously, I don't think I've ever been in such good shape. The food is really healthy and fruit is something that you virtually can't go more than a day without here. It has made me realise that I was probably a little on the 'chubby' side in SA! you guys will have to wait for some other posts to see that though!
All for now and look our for more posts in the coming week or two!
PS. I finish my second course this week!
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