France vs. the Pacific Islanders

Last weekend I went to the rugby match with a few girls from my french team

(they're "my" team now because people shove me and kick me in the back of my legs to make me fall a bit between drills, which is - as I have observed - an expression of affection on this team. Though I am somewhat more used to the ruffling of hair or the odd clap on the back, I have whole heartedly embraced this form of endearment, and therefore consider myself part of "l'equipe".)

between the French rugby team and the Pacific Islanders (Samoa, Fidji and Tonga) at the Stade Bonal in Sochaux (at least, that's where I think the stade was, because I really didn't pay attention as we drove up in the Miss's "mini-bus").

France won with a final score of 42 - 17 (I had to look that up).

Highlights of the game:

• a player from the Pacific Islanders was red carded for being clumsy and swinging his arm while running, effectively clothes-lining and knocking unconscious one of the French players (whether it was intentional or just plain clumsy/stupid is arguable)
• crowd went nuts when another clumsy Islander elbowed a French player in the eye while they were both jumping up to catch a kick (I was glad that he wasn't carded because in the slow motion you could see they just weren't giving each other enough personal space and the Islander was bigger so it turned out to be an inevitability really...)
• Sebastien Chabal was subbed on. Dubbed "l'homme des cavernes" ("the cave man") because of his beard and long hair, he's been a French favorite since the World Cup. I loved him because he's a lock and his first real play on the field was to dump tackle the Islander's #8 at like 70 km/hr.(I love this photo because even though Chabal looks like he's going to eat it, you know the baby's just like "Weeee!!!")
  

Even though he's this big name in the French rugby world, I was kind of bemused at his playing style. The guy would mostly saunter around the field while the other young, clean shaven members of his team zipped around. Then he'd arrive, basically at the last minute, for a ruck, sweep it clean and the cycle would continue again. Then every once and a while he would smoke someone, as if he'd been building up the energy during all of that sauntering.

Anyway seemed like my kind of game. I just have to learn to dump tackle Chabal style.

All that to say that my first professional rugby match was AWESOME and really fun to watch and that I'm excited for my licence to come in so I can play and see what "les meufs" in France are made of (verlan for "les femmes" or ladies/women/girls whatever).