Bout Recap

Posted on October 30, 2012 by

8


It’s hard to write about the first 59 minutes and 20 seconds of Saturday night’s game without being clouded by what came next. If I force myself to set that aside and remember how it felt then I can say I had an absolute ball. There was just this feeling that began in the first jam and persevered all the way through to the first time the game ended.

I felt switched on and that my team mates were all switched on. I felt united with them – not just in our goal but in how we were going to achieve it. Our bench, supervised by Lotus Warrier, Hermoine Gouge’er and Indie Cider was calm and orderly. There was no yelling, no excitement, just focus on the next jam. Even when stuff did happen to momentarily shake our game, no one shared it with the group. We all understand now that by waa waaing about what an opposition team member has done, we psych our whole team out, doing their job for them. Instead, we approach one of the benchies and ask them to raise it with the refs during half time.

Beautiful benchies, Gouger and LoWo

The game itself was tight. I never look at the score and was too vain to wear my glasses so couldn’t have read it anyway. I occasionally heard the commentators though and knew it was close. I think my team lead most of the way or maybe I was just feeling so good about the game that I felt like a winner all that time.

Me and Snooty – she’s so much fun to play

Then it was the last jam. Our jammer was sent to the box and the opposition secured their win. The commentators did a big countdown and declared the winners. They did their victory lap. Outrajess Edi and I debriefed on the sidelines. We were slightly bummed at not winning but felt good. No regrets – we had played well. We had done ourselves proud; we had done our club proud. Our club as a whole had demonstrated that we had arrived; a serious player in the South Australian derby world.

We’ve come so far!

.. then it all fell apart. Our team was part way through our runner up high five lap when the refs told us to return to our benches and for the crowd to return to their seats. There was 40 seconds left in the game.

I spent the rest of the weekend fiercely wishing that I hadn’t been sent back on. I suppose I’m not the only one with regrets from that night. I feel for the commentators who must be mortified that they forgot their clock is not the official clock; for the official timekeeper who couldn’t get the message through for so long; for all the stunned blockers who joined me on the track for that last jam, whichever team they were on; and for the benchies who put me on instead of someone more ruthless.

All photos by Matt Walker

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Posted in: LimboLand