Welcome


Welcome to the ramblings of a rugby mum…

 

I am one of a few other mums that stand on the side line week in, week out. A glorified taxi driver for the real stars of the show and their equally important fathers running up and down the line, waving their hands in the air, barking orders and doing their best impersonation of Eddie Jones.

 

Rugby has always been seen as a gentleman’s sport, where boys bond and make lifelong friends and the dads and sometimes grandads profess to knowing more than the players, the coaches and sometimes the Sir.

 
Have you ever noticed that the mums sit or stand quietly whilst the boys are playing, or are back in the clubhouse preparing something warm for the little treasures when they finish? Whilst the dads are side-lining the coaches giving their expert opinion on where they are going wrong and how in their opinion these 30 boys could be the next Johnny Wilkinson or Dan Carter.

 

 
 
    So where do we as mothers fit in?

 

 
 
 
Do we keep quiet and act dumb about rugby? Do we just stay behind the scenes and make sure our angels are wearing the gum shields and body armour?

Are we just the ones that wash those stinky socks and clean the boots after the matches or get the grass and mud stains out of their shorts?



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