Rugby



As I run down the field, sweat pouring down my head, I can hear my heart beating in my ears. I have to keep running; have to stay behind the ball. The sir blows the whistle. Scrum down at the 20. We are deep in our own territory. We bind together, seconds are called in. The ball is put into the pack and we all push. We hear the call, "BALLS OUT!" We break and run into the other team. One of our players is tackled; we ruck over her and push on. We run, and ruck, maul, and tackle our way down the field. The clock ticks away as we see victory approaching. The try zone is in our reach. I have the ball and I am running with every last bit of energy in me. I get tackled down, but my team mates ruck over me. I get up just in time to hear the whistle blow as one of my team mates touches the ball down. We all go crazy! We won the match! This is what I live for. This is rugby, my anti-drug.