My rugby club

My rugby club , with its dust ridden curtains , flat beer and out of date packs of pork scratchings is the place where I spend most of my time to the point where I’v actually slept there.

My rugby club is the 6 year old who turns up every Sunday morning without fail and say’s he plays rugby to earn the scars which will impress the girls at school the next day to the 35 year old who turns up on a Saturday and earns the scars to impress the women down the town that night because he knows he’s dance moves fail time after time.

My rugby club is people turning up on a Saturday worse for ware and knowing the finger wagging is worth it for the nights banter before with others who have committed the same heinous crime but giving it 120% on the pitch.

My rugby club is the place where my best mates are and always will be .

My rugby club means everything to me from tag to first team.

My rugby club is Seaton Carew RFC

What does your club mean to you?

Did you have a sock for the 'valuables' which was handed to the commitee man during the game.

My rugby club once decided to push the boat out and get some sports bags made in the club colours with the club badge on ot (its a mole)

They were good well made bags and could get a shedload of gear in.

Of course there was chaos when people just grabbed 'their' bag and legged it to get a lift to the away game. Lock forwards looking at someone elses size 7 boot when they needed a size 13. Luckily the first time this happened it was fairly local (Wallsend I think) and a frantic highspeed trip averted the disaster.

Or at the away game,

'whose got the strips?'

Huddling in the changing rooms with a bottle of port being passed round as there was a snow storm outside with an over entusiastic ref insisting the ground wasn't hard and we were good to go.

The club moto "your first tackle is never late".

The smell of deep heat and mud in the changing rooms. The constant arguement between backs and forwards over whether new shirts should be fitted or loose (where you stand on the arguement is based on the size of your stomach).

Best way to spend a Saturday afternoon, with a game of 'spoons' and pub relay for the evening social.

The club moto "your first tackle is never late".

I like that.