Not Darth

Today I learned what a maul is in rugby. The first time I heard the commentators mention it (yesterday) I thought they were saying ‘the mole’ and I figured it was some sort of group push for the line. I guess it is, really, but it has a lot more rules and formality than it appears to have.

But that was later in the afternoon. First thing (well, second thing if you count waking up) I rang Mum to try and fix her PC. She hasn’t been able to find her photographs since I left. Mea culpa!

So, I texted her to say I was going to ring, then I thought better of it and suggested we Skype. Now, I’ve never actually Skyped before, although the software is on my laptop. I just don’t see the point of seeing people when on the phone. However, in this case, it would have been ideal.

You see, the phone is in the house and my laptop is in the office and never the twain, I’m afraid. I needed the access to the laptop in order to remotely logon to Mum and Dad’s PC. I thought Skype would work really well. I’m sometimes so stupid, it’s just not funny.

Skype, of course, didn’t work. So, I rang Mum from the house, told her what I was going to do, then went out to the office to do it. I did this about four times but, eventually, the problem was fixed, Mum was pleased and we saved Dad having to discuss computers when I ring on Tuesday.

Having sorted that out, I went into Farnham to buy something for lunch and, of course, a visit to Starbucks where I teased Josh the barista. He’s just completed a month without alcohol for charity.

Josh likes a drink so it was quite difficult but he reckons he feels a lot better for it. He also reckons he’s never doing it again.

Back at home, I FINALLY heard from my wife in Miami. Her phone isn’t texting as she rarely has a signal so she couldn’t really contact me. Eventually, a bit concerned, I rang the hotel and left her a message which she answered with an email. I then rang her.

She’s having an interesting time, seeing some very American things and wishing I was with her to poke fun at them as well. Today she was going to try to go to the Everglades on a tour bus. I guess I’ll find out tomorrow how she went. Hopefully she’ll avoid any alligators.

Next it was the puppies’ turn for a spin around the park before lunch then settling down for my third taste of rugby, Italy v France.

And what a game!

All the talk pre-kick off was how much the French would win by. And, I have to say, when they took to the field, the French looked the more likely team. Boy, were we all wrong.

The Italians went into attack mode and ripped through the French, giving them a lesson in rugby. They didn’t know what hit them. It was wonderful to watch. Everyone loves an underdog and everyone knows how much I’d love to be Italian…so I was loving it twofold.

But don’t get the wrong idea. It wasn’t going to be a thrashing by any stretch of the imagination. By half time the game was still finely balanced. Most of the talk during the break was whether the French were just waiting for the Italians to flag with the pace of the game. They disappointed them, totally.

The Italians came back onto the pitch with determination and utter belief in themselves. At times, the French looked hopeless. They crowded each other, not spreading out either side of the field, and generally looked all at sea.

The only thing the Italians did wrong (and this is from my incredibly inexperienced eye) was to slow the game down. In rugby (apparently) this gives the opposition far too much time to regather and mount a defence. Even so, this didn’t stop the Italians winning 23-18 in a very exciting game.

I’m not convinced that statistics mean an awful lot when teams change personnel so regularly but it’s interesting to note that in head to head matches, the French have beaten the Italians 31-2. That was before the game. It’s now 31-3.

And that’s probably it for my rugby reports. The 6 Nations matches play on weekends and Mirinda will be back and I’m certain she thinks the same about rugby as she does about football.

By the way, a maul is a sort of mobile scrum where, after an initial formation by the requisite group of players, more and more players join the back and attempt to push it forward while the ball, hidden within the maul, gets passed around. In the simplest terms, it stops being a maul if any single player loses his footing within it. From a spectators point of view, it looks like a rapidly growing turtle.