If the proverbial genie were to offer me five wishes right now my answer without hesitation would be the following:

1) To be associated with this logo

2) To wear this jersey

3) To be this man

Tana Umaga, captain of the All Blacks

4) To do the haka before quaking opposition at the IRB World Cup finals

5) World peace, yada yada yada

My love affair with rugby, curiously enough, came about purely by accident. Prior to Form 3 my love for the game was restricted to singing along to the impressive repertoire of unbelievably dirty rugby songs (of which my firm grasp has never waned). I know limericks and cheering songs that would turn the air blue.

Setting foot on the pitch itself, however, was another matter altogether.

Until the day during sports when a certain gentleman, clearly bent on terminating my lineage, prematurely tackled me. Or, to be more accurate, attempted to plant my head and shoulders beneath the surface of the pitch. All that I can say is after that tackle there are some 5 minutes of my life that I cannot account for. I came to with 20 odd people looking down at me as i attempted to convince my lungs to resume duty. They were in fact drawing lots for what I was wearing. Steve my son, I owe you one!

As my lungs resumed their duties, I spat grass, weeds and pebbles from my mouth, retrieved the assorted pieces of my t-shirt and tried to remember whether i was a bipedal or quadrupedal creature, I came to the very philosophical conclusion that I had experienced the absolute worst experience that can ever happen to you during the game (aside from having your cojones grabbed by your opposite number in the confusion of a scrum or a maul).

The very next week I signed up for trials for the school team.

It is quite rightly called a hooligan’s game played by gentlemen. There is action, elegance, grace and strategy in the game, as well as availing excellent opportunities to break your neck (and I do mean that literally), or any chosen limb. You are guaranteed to lose obscenely large amounts of skin in the process of tackling or being tackled, and the day after a game we were very easy to spot from our stiff legged gait that comes from bloody knees and elbows sticking to the insides of your trousers and shirts. The affinity for cotton for bloody bruised skin is second only to that of politicians to power. I have an impressive collection of scars, including one on the back of my hand when I had my first CSI moment by being given the opportunity, currently of the opposition’s steel spiked boots, to see the bones in the back of my hand.

And I loved every tumble.

Like I’m always telling skeptics, there’s a lot to be said for running directly into a pack of 15 or so men who while recognizing that it’s God’s prerogative when to call you home, helpfully want to arrange a meeting.

Of course there were always hooligans who slipped through the cracks. For instance during a scrum down,when you’re huddled together with the enemy some gents would introduce variety. While in a scrum, your arms are around the shoulders of your team mates and you have no defence when an enemy hand reaches across and

• Grabs your cojones in a vice like grip. Pushing in that scrum suddenly became a distant second on your priorities
• Fingers smartly dig into your nostrils and while you are pushing upwards said fingers pull nostrils downwards

You’d ask why don’t you shout or something? Well, scrums are full of shouting anyway, so your Mariah like squeals of agony are drowned by shouting men.

The scrumdown. You’d not believe all the things happening under there!

Or take a maul for instance, when you lie on the ground, shielding the ball with your back as beefy men step over you to push back the opposition. The problem was that the opposition could, and generally would, push back, so there was an excellent chance of 29 very big, very heavy rugby players stepping repeatedly over you simultaneously with spiked boots.

A maul in progress. It is no fun being No. 11. Notice that dudes are still arriving and piling themselves on!

My heart beats faster just thinking about it.

It is for this reason that I am forming the KBW rugby team, the All Blues. Warning: if you have a stick up your nether regions, stop reading here. You have been warned!

The lineup is as follows:

 Props (2)

The prop’s main duties are to support the hooker during scrum downs and boost the second rows to the skies during line outs.

The prop is generally the beefiest character in the field, and generally smells like a combination of a septic tank and a troupe of skunks that have just finished running the New York Marathon and have refused to shower. Most have their heads grafted directly to their shoulders, but some do possess necks.

Right to left at the front: prop, hooker and prop

Step right up Sidaki (Loosehead prop), Jersey 1 and Milonare (Tighthead prop), Jersey 3 (Yes, i know what I’m doing!)

Hooker

The main duties of the hooker are to retrieve the ball when thrown into a scrum, and to throw the ball into line outs

The hooker has pretty much the attributes of the prop, but must also have superior ball handling abilities. A hooker must be able to work magic with balls to qualify for the duty.

Nicholas Gichu my main man (jersey 2), this one’s yours. You’re the hooker

Second Row (2)

These are generally the tallest chaps in in the team. Their work is to win the ball in line outs and provide the main thrust (easy now Guessaurus!) to the scrum down.

During line outs a second row must be ready to have his rugby shorts end up so far up his nether regions that he can taste the cotton. A second row’s voice is wont to fluctuate between its usual bass and a high falsetto during line outs due to this very reason.

Second row in a line out. When you slip and the props catch you and hold you up by the shorts, you can hit notes that even dogs cannot hear

Here I, M (jersey 4) must take up the gauntlet. Leave it to me. I got this!!Mental (jersey 5), step up to the plate

Flankers (2)

A flanker’s responsibilities are simple to get the ball during loose plays, and providing support for jumpers in line outs. The hardest, bone crunching tackles are generally attributed to flankers

Flankers are generally chained when not in play and fed a diet of raw meat and wet biscuits to further bring out the aggression within. If a flanker has locked sights on you you WILL come to earth.

There is stiff competition for this one by Mama J (jersey 6) after a long absence from injury makes her return. Equally ably on the pitch is Ms K (jersey 7)

Number 8

Number 8, also called the 8th man, is called thus because they invariably are number 8.

They are at the very back of the scrum, and generally have the asses of the second rows in their faces 80% of the time. Their main task is to provide the ball to the scrum half from the scrum. They also win balls during line outs.

The guy at the back holding the ass the shorts of one of the second rows is the Number 8. Most second rows desperately believe the 8th man has no ulterior motives

A neck bigger than their thigh is a crucial prerequisite. A Number 8 should also refrain from squeezing too much on the backsides of the second rows. Most find it disconcerting.

Step right up Mutumia (jersey 8), and take up your mantle!

Scrum Half

The scrum half is tasked with providing the backs with balls won from the forwards. The scrum half tends to be the smallest player on the field and has the best ball handling skills.

Scrum halves generally tend to have voices that carry, and on a good day one at work can he heard in the next small town. They also generally have a lot to say, regardless of the willingness or lack thereof of the audience

This is the scrum half getting the hell out of dodge

Eclipse (jersey 9), karibu kazi.

Fly Half

The weight of decisions rests with this player, who decides whether to kick the ball or pass it to the backs. Mwai Kibaki in his hey day tried this position and did not last ten seconds. Decisions MUST be made. Fly halves generally do the kicking in drop goals.

Fly halves must be called thus because they generally end up in deep shyit, due to the fact that they have invisible targets painted on their backs. A firm grasp of unprintable language is an asset to any fly half.

Farmgal (jersey 10) welcome to the team

Left Wing

The left wing’s MO is simple:
1) Get ball
2) Make try

They are generally fast and light on their feet. And IQ is optional but opposable thumbs are not.

This is a wild eyed winger going for glory. Run, Forrest, RUN!

Guessaurus (jersey 11) my dear, this one’s for your blisteringly fast pace!

Inside Center

The role is to punch holes in the opposition defence, creating openings for the wingers.

The thicker the skull, the more suited a player is to fill this role, battering aside the opposition. If you use things like ‘body milk’, you need not apply.

Maitha (jersey 12) my man, hii ni yako

Outside Center

Tends to exploit the openings made by the suicidal inside center, and on occasion go for glory.

Outside centers cheer the loudest when tries and drop goals are made but by the same token tend to cry like babies when the team loses the game. Most teams pay air/bus/matatu fare to have the girlfriend at the sidelines should this transpire

Acolyte (jersey 13) the ball is in your court

Right Wing

Fleet of foot is the best way to describe this player. Simple task is to deliver the ball over the try line.

The carrot and stick approach can be very well employed here (carrot – promise black forest cake and unlimited beer in the changing room. Stick – termites tactfully introduced into shorts)

Shiro (jersey 14), step into my parlour

Fullback

This is the last line of defence. The fullback generally is tasked to stop the attack of the opposite wingmen, as well as getting the ball the heck out of there.

Viewed from in front, a fullback has the arms and shoulders of Hulk Hogan and the legs and feet of Harry Potter.

Adrian (jersey 15) welcome to the team

SEVENS TEAM

Front Row: Medusa, Mad Kenyan Woman, Udi,
Back Row: Mshairi, Afromusing, Prousette, Magaidi

CHEERING SQUAD

Nakeel, Sanaa, Kiepepeo, Poi

TEAM MASCOT

ni2

SUBSTITUTES

Hash, Mlevi

We begin practice this evening.

BONZAI!

AOB

Ask M is still open, so ask me (almost!) anything, ask away while I am still in a giving mood.

Also, I’ve put up some older short stories 

Moby & Gwen Stefani – Southside