If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.

- Hemingway

French men make me sick, always have done. I'm degenerate, but they are dirty with it. Not only in the physical sense either, they have greasy minds. Other foreigners may have garlic on their breath, but the frogs have it on their thoughts as well.

- Flashman

Thursday, 25 November 2010

Training - Wednesday 24th November

I feel I’m becoming a senior player in this team. Actually, before last night I didn’t feel that at all – I stand near the back of coaches’ explanations, allow calls to be made for me and often need to be told to run closer to the person in front of me (for team unity) in the warm-up. This all changed last night in a session that began with us powering through our second team and ended in farce as the backs decided that instead of spin-passing the ball across the pitch we would chip it to each other instead, the slightly more junior coach being powerless to prevent this off the cuff disobedience.

Anyway, in one of our huddles after scoring against the seconds, Philippe, after saying his bit, asked our vice-captain if he had anything to add, no he didn’t. He then asked me, anything to add? Well I was slightly taken aback, but not as taken aback as the rest of the team when I removed my mouthguard and took a half-step towards the middle of the huddle, eyebrows were rising – was he really going to plough in with a speech about clearing out the ruck?! – I breathed in and then deflated 15 bubbles, “Non non c’est bon”.

I have no doubt that by next year I will be adding my bit to the pre-match huddle and taking these opportunities. I could have added something in this instance if I actually had anything to say on clearing out rucks, which I didn’t at the time and never have, except, “my shoulder hurts, think I’ll just sit this one out...”

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