Cos I lied...

I know when I started this blog I said it was to improve the rugby knowledge of more stereotypical kiwi sheilas but hey who am I kiding, I mean really who esle is going to enjoy reading this blog? Infact who esle is going to read this full stop. The posts are often long and perhaps a little too indepth. And well if I am truely honest with myself I would know that my classmates are probably the only people who are likely to visit this page anyway, and most of them have lost interest with their own blog so why would they stop in to read my post for the week/month/time...I guess I was kidding myself by thinking I was writing for an audience.

I have finally realised that blog writing is not about trying to inform, it is not about trying to impress, it is simply about providing a place for naieve writers to come and selfishly spiel. So with that said here goes my ramble... And even if I am the only one who is going to read it, I am going to just rant!

After talking to the R.Engineer I got thinking and the question plaguing me on this cold and dreary evening is - when is it that you are really talking rugby and when are you just killing abit of time with a conversation that just happens to be around rugby.

Too often men talk about the latest game, team, player - whatever - and all I hear is old cliches or commentator tripe. And yet these very men are the ones who never even think to ask someone like me my opinion and by someone like me I mean women. Too many people think that women either are too stupid or not interested enough to understand the inner workings of a ruck. Man does that grate me. And the fact that there are people out there like the idiot female columnist from the Sunday Star times who said that rugby players by definition are not hot rugby irritates me because all she is doing is perpetuating the same old silly myth. To that I say what a load of crap - who the hell cares if they are hot or not, can't we just enjoy the players for the athletes they are rather than trying to trivialise it. Why is as woman, many of us feel the need to ridicule something because we do not understand it (even if it is by choice that we do not understand).

And why is that men think they need to cling to that myth because somehow it validates their masculinity. For Gods sake - I often want to sceram that I probably know more than them, the chauvanistic pigs! I have 28 years of being fluent in rugby. My father played when I was young, the R.Engineer played when I met first him and I, myself, even dabbled in the game for awhile. I have spent many afternoons curled up on the couch watching old replays of games just for the fun it and whats more I enjoy it. So you could say that I get more than a little irked when men who barely know the difference between a hooker and a prostitute dismiss me when the subject comes up.

And to the Ms Sunday Star Times columnist - just because the Rugby jock at high school broke your heart do not try and cover up the fact that you are still bitter about it by saying all rugby players are hideous lumbering oafs with cauliflower ears. I mean of course there are hideous oafs playing rugby perhaps with cauliflower ears even, some may even be All Blacks, but somehow I dont think you can label Dan Carter as anything remotely hideous or plenty of others in the game. And whats more there are some woman out there that like cauliflower ears, not this one of couse but I am rather partial to the R.Engineer's battle scars - there's nothing quite like a good bad boy!