Early this morning a very special bundle arrived. 5 days after his official due date but exactly on time according to his mum. Rach said from the beginning that they were off by a week by her calculations. Young Master Wilks made his entrance just one hour after arriving at the hospital. Much to the relief of mum because child number one took over 30 hours to appear.
When you have been waiting for the call and than it finally comes, all the questions come tumbling out at once. Is it a boy or a girl? What did it weigh? Is it healthily ? Is mum okay? Do you have a name yet. Once the torrent of questions are answered you then shift to the next gear. Firstly, giving thanks for the welfare of both mother and child and then the random thoughts kick in. Will it have hair or will it be bald as a cue ball? Will he be a screamer or quiet baby? Will he play rugby or be a math wizard? What will the world be like when he grows up? Now the fun begins as we get to discover the answers to each of these questions and the million more that are out there waiting for him. World meet Baby Wilks, Baby Wilks the whole world awaits.
I just checked my Sky Planner to ensure that my rugby was all set up for tomorrow’s last game of the season between Leicester and Bath…what do I find? Nothing. So, I start to search the listing and find Northampton v Worcester and Newcastle v Wasps but no Leicester match. Thinking that this can’t possibly be correct what were the schedule makers thinking when they planned this? I kept searching then found a tweet confirming this disastrous news. No telly for the last regular season game. I’m still in shock! Tomorrow at 2:00 I’ll be absolutely bereft.
The anticipation of going to Welford Road was well worth the wait! The Tigers were in a word “awesome”. Consider the fact that the team are a bit depleted owing to international duty and injuries. Yes, I realise we were playing the struggling Newcastle but still it was a good win with a bonus point. Okay, those are the game facts, the fun stuff is always off the pitch. We start with the error on my part for trusting in technology. Before the game I looked up the postcode of the car park, plugged that into the sat nav and away we go…and go and go. We get to Leicester city centre and out the other side. Things start to look a bit rural. I double check the postcode and notice it is LE11 and normally you would expect a city centre postcode to be a bit lower on the number scale. Back to the search function on the sat nav only to find it should be LE1 not 11. No panic yet, we still have an hour before kick off and the scenic tour of the rural villages of Leicstershire was pleasant. We now have to do a 180 and try to find the stadium again and hope there is still at least one parking space open. The car park now in sight we are cruising. Find a spot and out on the street we go. One question looming, where exactly is the stadium? Matt and I look at each other and shrug. Luckily a kind seasoned visitor to this grand rugby ground tells us to turn right and follow the crowd. True to his word we turn right and looming ahead is the stadium. A quick stop in the team shop, shirt, for me, shirt for our granddaughter and a scarf on board we are ready to enter the Tigers den. Thank you Matt for enduring our side trip to Loughborough and my overflowing excitement. What a day!
I am finally going to see the Leicester Tigers play a Premiership game. I’m going this Saturday with my step son…wow that still sounds strange when I say it. We are going to the temple of British rugby and I cannot wait. You know I love my rugby and I am prone to shout at the telly when something exciting happens. If you watched last Sunday’s game you can imagine what was happening in our living room. The Tigers were down by 2 points and they waited until the clock had 83 minutes on it, (for non rugby people this is 3 minutes into extra time and one dead ball ends the game), before they attempted a drop goal. The Captain stepped up and took the kick himself (I love good leadership). I held my breath as the ball wobbled over and they won 20-19. I finally exhaled and felt exhausted from the effort of watching this heart stopping match. As exciting as it was I’m not sure my blood pressure could take another one of those this week. Watch this space for the update after Saturday’s match.
Being American it is in my genetic make up to respond to the question, “what is your favourite sport?” with the answer “baseball”. However, if you were to ask me today I would say rugby. Yes, I would feel guilty for betraying the truly American innate baseball answer, but it would be my honest response. When you compare the toughness factor of American football players to rugby players there is no real comparison. Football players wear the equivalent of body amour and a 2 inch thick padded helmet to protect them. Rugby players wear shirts, shorts and occasionally a scrum cap which is little more than a shower cap compared to the football helmet! Rugby players wear the same kit regardless of the temperature and weather conditions. American football players add things like hand warmers, tights and gloves when it gets a bit too chilly. All of these things add to the toughness factor of rugby players then you have to consider the pure physical element. A rugby player can go into a scrum and come out with an open bleeding head wound, then head straight into the next play, the referee will have to send him off for a blood replacement. Said player will reluctantly go to the locker room for any number of stitches and be back on the touch line, bouncing up and down so the ref sees him to let him back on to the field! An American football player dislocates a finger and goes on injured reserve for 6 weeks! A rugby player dislocates a finger and the physio wrenches it back into place during a water break and the player never misses a play. Now that is tough! How could you not love this sport?