It’s more than just elegant violence.
Rugby is the closest thing to medieval hand-to-hand combat I will ever get to experience.
It’s all about the glory when a five-foot-ten girl thinks she can run over my five-two frame.
She doesn’t get very far; they never do without their knees.
If I go through a list of my friends here in New Orleans, my closest friends (with the exception of one or two) are my rugby teammates.
I’m fortunate enough to play with a group of women who range in age from 44 all the way down to 18, all with different personal histories.
You look at us and we’re the most random group of friends there could be.
We are united by the love of the game and have kept together by friendship.
How many people risk paralysis for you every weekend?
Just my rugby girls.
