When we're depressed we struggle to remember anything good we did. As we recover we remember times when we achieved, no matter how insignificant it was. I must be recovering because I recently remembered this story.
I was playing in a rugby game in Burton-on-Trent. They had a huge pack of forwards who all seemed to work at the brewery (and didn't look as though much of the output made it past them and through the doors.) Their only strategy was to use their huge players to batter their way forward, which was exhausting to defend. (Imagine Indiana Jones trying to rugby-tackle the boulder instead of running away from it).
As they won the ball yet again they hoisted a high-kick which was coming down just outside our "22." It was well-placed, whoever caught it would be immediately hit by their onrushing forwards. As I ran back I noticed that although my team-mates were heading in the general direction of where the ball would land, for some strange reason no-one was actually getting into position to catch it.
Someone pulled the string in the middle of my back and my unbidden voice said "mine!" Immediately I sensed opponents assessing my bulk (not huge) and calculating course and speed to impact like some meat-seeking missile.
I caught the ball and got hit by a stampede of Staffordshire beef. I was desperately trying to avoid being turned or losing the ball while being driven back on the run. After a few centuries (!!) team-mates began to arrive, holding me up and slowing then stopping the retreat. Once stable I rolled the ball along the deck to the scrum-half, who kicked into touch level with where the move started. We hadn't lost a yard.
We lost the game, and overall I didn't have much of a game, but for a fleeting second I did what needed to be done and felt good about it.
(This may not actually be my finest moment, but I like telling the story... )
So what was your finest moment?
A Moodscope member.
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