Rah Rah...Blah

Rah Rah...blah. Finally the Springboks are back to their old dazzling form. Having been forced (more or less since we only have one TV) to watch this weekends Tri-Nations game vs Australia, I must admit to being pleased to see the boks in the same type of form that brought them world cup victory in 1995. Having said that though, perhaps it is my advancing age, that led me to be an observer of a far more interesting game than the one on television. That is, to watch, my hubby and two of his close friends watching the game... I still can't fathom exactly what it is that makes men such avid watchers of sport. The three of them seemed incapable of keeping their butts firmly planted in their chairs. Their jumping up and down, and spine chilling shrieks made me think that I was in the middle of the bloodiest battle in 'Braveheart'. Which brings me to an interesting theory. Rugby players are our modern day gladiators. I am not talking about that unbelievably stupid TV show that was screened with puffed up body builders with naff names like 'Spider' and 'Warrior'. But actual people playing for their lives on a modern day battlefield. When I say 'playing for their lives' I don't mean it literally of course - they don't actually get put to death physically for losing! (Duh). But in a sense they are playing for their live(s)lihood. A bad game, and a few silly mistakes is often enough to get them hung out to dry by the media, and end their careers - and therefore their ability to support themselves. Let's face it - even though many of our players go on to other careers, such as opening their own chain of restaurants or modelling or such like. Do they ever really earn the same type of cash that their ball catching, teeth gnashing, thigh bashing pursuits earn them? I await your comment...