I spent half the match in the stands and half the time on the sidelines. I remembered Charlie's words about the Stelson brothers leaving blood behind during matches. Many players did. I saw scraped knees, bloody noses, and scratched faces. I heard the grunts and groans and saw players jump up and continue playing when I thought they would leave on a stretcher. All up close and personal from the sidelines.
Maybe too personal.
My eyes strayed to Van; I couldn't help myself. He was a different man on that field. He wasn't a glory hound like I expected. He passed the ball, assisted other players in tries, along with scoring two tries himself. Yes, tries, rugby's term for scoring points when you ground the ball on the try line. It was a foreign language that I was finally getting the knack for.
