the thousand natural shocks

It is now a week since the Burnham-On-Sea Rugby Festival. The Bomber only played in the first match as he hurt his shoulder in the second half. He seems fine now, though he has trouble lifting his arm over his head, but at the time it was a heart-in-the-mouth, game-stopped, doctor-summoned, body-not-moving hand ringer after a crunching tackle.

As far as I can tell (I overheard, it's not like it's something we tally officially) the Ruts seem to have come away with a broken ankle, a broken jaw, and a broken leg as well as the usual blood and bruises among the Under 9s, 10s, 11s, 12s and 13s squads.

That is quite an attrition rate for a weekend. I'm very much reminded of Chris wondering over Christmas if kids rugby was getting more dangerous because - as a teacher - he was noticing pupils hobbling round on crutches with injuries reasonably regularly; something he (and I when he pointed it out) couldn't remember happening when we were in school.

The season's over now, so I don't have to worry about it for a few months. In the meantime, break out the Rocky Balboa DVD and keep a box of tissues handy:

Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place, and I don't care how tough you are, it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward; how much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done. Now, if you know what you're worth, then go out and get what you're worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain't you. You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you, no matter what. No matter what happens. You're my son, you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life........