tales of a rugby whore

Last night a women's motley joined with the Potbellied Pigs to host the USS Carl Vinson Gravediggers in a friendly rugby match.  It worked out well because we alternated between the pigs playing fifteen minutes and then taking a rest while the women came on for a turn.

Oh yeah, for those who don't use the term, a rugby whore is someone who is willing to play for another team.  At tournaments in the US there would be a sign up area to match single rugby players with teams that needed more players.  The sign up sheets would read "whores" and "looking for whores." Technically I guess those looking for whores should be called "providers."  Yes, I recently learned some new terms.

Most of the ship's players were new or fairly new.  The men were in great shape and beat the pigs narrowly due to their fitness advantage even though their rugby skills were rough, kind of like that time when the US women won the Rugby World Cup.  While the male navy players were very fit, the women were a bit soft in the middle.  I suspect that they all are given the same servings of food on board. 

Our motley crew was considerably stronger than the lady gravediggers so we divided evenly between ourselves for the last play session.  Even though the navy women were probably a bit heavier than us, Liz and I decided to do the lifting because they had no experience. While Liz and I were showing the girls how to jump in a lineout I kept looking at the soft, round knees and thinking of how cute they were.  I was pretty pleased that we got the girls up in the air; it speaks well for my weight lifting routine. 

The lady gravediggers may have been at a disadvantage in skills but they showed great tenacity and put up some fantastic tackles.  Your correspondent will admit that she went into contact expecting less and was shown the floor for her folly. 

In the end we all departed for Wanchai where stories of the legendary match could be cultivated.

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