For the Titans - bgdc
rolls up her sleeves, hitches up her skirt and saunters on to the field singing "ten little Bluebags hanging on the wall". (OWC 749)
Your Team v. Your Child
After celebrating Women in League it seems appropriate to address the one single defining moment in every rugby league household; when the man of the house determines whether he should attend the game, or be present at the birth of his child.
Before all you Neanderthals start crying unlevel playing field, Ive decided to put you all into categories, as all us girls must. Im certain that most of you Troglodytes wander around beating your chests and never understand that youre just items on the shelf to us of the fairer gender. I hesitate to use fairer sex because who says that sex is fair anyway?
We may allow your beefy, sweat-stinky bodies to flap around like fish out of water on the odd occasions that you have been very good, but to describe this pittance of submission as fair is hardly correct. We hold the upper hand. We decide timing, style and level of supposed satisfaction. We have the monopoly, but I digress.
I have divided you into groups: those that are players, including coaches and administrators, and those who are fans. Of course, even the most ill begotten, unfortunate mail-order bride learns very quickly that the word fan stems from the more poignant fanatic; a term that aptly illustrates the imbalances that rugby league can create in the male persona.
The debate in the case of the fan is straight-forward. A small and painless piece of philosophical surgery that removes the couch from the posterior, the remote control from the left hand and the smart phone from the right will resolve this debate instantly. Any psychologist will tell you that once a comfort zone has been removed and the connections to friends and Fantasy Football have been severed then normal family perspectives will return. Said hunter will meekly carry your bags and drive you to the hospital, full of loving platitudes and useless anecdotes.
Now to the real debate where by necessity I was forced to further categorize the players into their various levels of involvement: professionals, semi-professionals, amateurs and finally school-aged youths. Ill start at the bottom and work my way upwards.
So youre a teenager and about to have a kid?
Then debate equals no debate. Go to the birth. Do not pass Go, do not collect any brochures on the relevance of safe sex as its already way too late and taking responsibility must start somewhere.
You are a player in the local team; do you want to let your mates down?
No, then attend the birth and drop off a slab of beer on the way to the hospital, or
Yes, attend the birth and dont get any celebratory cigars for your teammates.
Youre forging a career in an NRL feeder club; do you want to attend the birth?
Of course, then go! Your club will have a collective bargaining agreement that allows for paternity leave, or
Yeah, but we dont have a CBA. I dont have any rights and I dont know if my health insurance covers having a kid. First go to the birth, then change your manager and find a new club, or
No, worried its too disgusting to see?
Yes, attend the birth ya big wuss. The miracle of childbirth is no more graphic than an episode of The Walking Dead, or
No, worried youll lose you place in the pecking order?
Yes, go to the birth, then change your manager and find a new club, or
Yep, go to the birth, your partying days are over.
You are a fulltime professional rugby league player; are you one of those people who think that playing rugby league is akin to going to war?
No, go to the birth and congratulations to your child. He or she has a father who is both athletic and intelligent, or
Oh, yeah! Do you think you should leave a fellow soldier on the battlefield?
No! Thats exactly what I mean. I cant leave me mates to battle without me. Attend the birth; the pain and bloodshed involved in pushing a child out of the human body is far closer to war than rugby league is. Dont leave your partner on the battlefield, or
Yes. You are a terrible person. How did you get someone to sleep with you? Fame, money, fame and money? Dont attend the birth; someone like you shouldnt be involved in raising a child.
The battle is over but the war goes on.