Once again, we line up. The shoulders on these fuckers are enormous. What are they feeding these guys? Virgin twinks and cute chickens? The second scrum has us in trouble again, but we hold it long enough get the ball to the back of the scrum.
A simple pick and go to get the ball away from our creaking scrum. I take the ball from the back of the scrum and charge at the fly half. He is like a rabbit caught in the headlights. He’s actually quite fine looking. ‘Petrified’ is such a good look on him. By now, I should have a flanker tackling me, but the Dallas scrum were pushing so hard with their heads down, that they missed the break.
Oh well, there is nothing for it. The pretty boy will have to tackle me. As a child, he should have been taught how to position himself, how to line a guy up, how to wrap his arms around a guys legs and ass to bring him down. I have a great ass; he should be looking forward to this. But all I see is fear in his eyes.
There is only one way to confront fear, and that’s full on. I did him a favor when I ran him over. Poor boy. I own him. In my mind, I think about grinding his face into the ground as I unload into his hole. The things that spring through your mind during a game. I can see the inside centre running across to me. A big black man. He looks so angry. Probably pissed off that I ran his girlfriend over. Come to daddy, baby. He’s lining me up, but he’s lining me up all wrong. Where did these bitches learn to play? He comes in big and tall, so what does he get? A big hand off to his angry face. That knocks him away and buys me another fifteen meters and enough space to commit the full back.
The full back is a tall, muscle Mary, but he can tackle. He comes in hard and fully committed, but by the time I hit the ground, I’ve already off loaded the ball to Sean. He has been on my shoulder the entire time. It’s the easiest score of his life.
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CONFESSIONS OF A GAY RUGBY PLAYER 2