Rugby Blues

I looked up the world "cuckold" the other day and it gave the derivation as the "husband of an adulteress, often regarded as an object of derision"

Well I think we were cuckolded the other day but it was not by an adulteress but by the Stormers Rugby Team !!

It all began when We Girls decided to go out to dinner last Friday night. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but little did we know that The Boys had other ideas.

It was after all, unbeknownst to us, the Stormers vs Crusaders Super 14 Rugby Game !!

A fairly important match they told us in hindsight but being blond we were unaware of any overtones, undertones, anguished feelings or whatever....

To dine, or not to dine ? (it's almost Mothers" Day after all ) we claimed, and those poor benighted boys acquiesced and took us to dinner, reluctantly, we almost had to drag them literally, but we put it down to a long day at the office and not much else.

We should have had some glimmer of warning, when the first shout was heard from the pub below the restaurant. It was a sound unequalled by any other, and it should have rung loud and distinct warning bells.

At first I thought it was a hold up, that noise could only emanate from some mortally wounded soul ....... but I was informed from between clenched teeth that it was a try scored by the Crusaders.

However we were engaged in useful and "intelligent " conversation at this stage and so we chose to ignore the throaty cries and concentrate diligently on our men as Mother had coached us so many years ago.

The manner of the Boys was unusual, they were fidgety, scratchy, distracted, the usual "Guy" syndrome, and so we ignored them and continued our "we must have a loving, caring, Doctor Phil Friday night supper". It is after all, important to bond with one's Spouse on a regular basis, all the books say so !! Deep, meaningful conversation should have been the order of the day !

The second, ebullient, unified scream of jubilation from the Pub below the restaurant, was less easy to gloss over, it was impinging on our enjoyment just a trifle, but we looked around and saw no overt reason to worry, no heists, no hold ups, no gang warfare ?

And so we continued to entertain our Men as best we knew how with our light frivolous and entertaining conversation, which Mother assured us, would have our Men lapping out of hands forever and a day.....

We were in the middle of a brilliant and entrancing dissertation on the Great Debate between Cameron, Clegg and Brown, when we heard loudly and clearly, another gigantic moan, nay a unified groan of significance, from downstairs.

It was rather akin to the groan which must have accompanied the sinking of the Lusitania, when we Girls realised we were against a force rather more significant than we had first imagined.

No, we were not facing an attack on our marriages by some Nubile Young Scantily Clad Vamps, nor indeed some ordinary nuclear incident, our evening was under threat from a Rugby game wherein the South African Stormers were playing the New Zealand Crusaders in one of the vitally important Super Fourteen Games of all Games !!

We had thought smugly that the Boys were holding their breath in awe at our intellectually superb conversation.... or perhaps it was the spicy curry that was mesmerizing them ?

No indeed the Rats were inhaling the ambiance and atmosphere from the pub underneath the restaurant, and were aurally "Ball by Balling" along with their fellow compatriots one story below us.

Fie upon you !! Your hoodwinked us most ungallantly...... our magical Friday Night Out With The Boys, turned into an inordinate gallop home as we were shoveled unceremoniously into bed while the Boys went to watch the GAME they were recording on the Telly !!