Last week the boys' school was given lots of free tickets to a rugby match at Suncorp Stadium. They needed adults to supervise. The Big Fella has taken them to the footy before but I have always demurred due to my delicate sensibilities/ babies/ pregnancy/ having a night off.
|All very gladiator-esque really.|
This time I thought I might just go. It's been a long time between matches. The transport was all arranged and we were allowed to bring ring-ins. ie. Fishy got a gernsey too. There was much excitement as they mustered in the bowels of the stadium with buff security guards and famous players who I did not know. The boys were thrilled at the event and a little appalled at my ignorance.
|What is this thing with black short socks and sports shoes lately. It all smacks of Jerry Lewis to me.|
Turns out they got the free tickets so that they could don a jersey from each club in the state and mosey onto the field all professional-like waving their flags as the music swelled and the stadium filled up. I was nursing a nose bleed in row trillion and twenty one but still got a tad misty at the sight.
Then we watched the game. There was much waving of flags and standing and yelling at goals. Tiny men ran around knocking each other down and hoiking a ball around. It was apparently a very good game.
As much as I enjoyed the rugby, it was watching my three watching the rugby that was the most fun. I loved that they sat together and looked after the Little Fella. Their excitement was infectious. It may not have awakened the dormant rugby gene that my mother insists lies in my heart but it did ignite a love of taking the boys to the stadium.