It was the much anticipated semi finals for rugby today so at 7:20am I left my house, headed towards the meeting place for our team van. While my teammates giggled away and nibbled on Jollybee on route to the playing field, I thought about what would be going down today. It was semi finals. The pressure was on. The hits would be harder and there would be more of them. I knew this.
I'm not afraid of getting hit with the ball so I'm good with trying to catch the ball and I'm not afraid of tackling an opponent or getting tackled. I'd like to thank my boxing for that. I have a really high tolerance of pain because of it and it's more or less has made me fearless. Having said this though, this means I am okay playing a bit reckless and, you guessed it, I take more hits than perhaps I should.
We won our game, 37-12.
Now to prepare for the finals on Saturday, June 29th.
I felt good after the game. With winning the game and trying my best, all those feel-good-endorphins were flowing steady in my body, through my bloodline, but when I got dropped off in BGC and sat down on a bar stool at The Refined, that's when things went a bit funny.
I was trying to tag my teammates in a picture I was posting and I was having a hard time trying to find the letters on my phone and tagging them seemed like next level difficulty. There definitely was a disconnection and wires seemed crossed in my head.
That game had way too many scrums and the opposing team's line wasn't secure enough, not strong, so there was a lot of crashing into their players and pile-ons. I took too many knees to the head and felt my neck go in like an accordion on a couple of the head-on tackles I encountered.
Tomorrow my body is going to feel like a truck hit it, I'm anticipating it.
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