Colin trotted over to him with a whistle and a shirt that read referee. He’d really taken this seriously.
“Alright,” he started, “the rules are simple if you did your homework. You cannot make forward passes, must be to mates behind you. If you have the ball and you get tackled, give it to a teammate to keep the play running. If the other side gets it, the same rules apply. Whoever scores in the end must fall on the ball.”
He looked around at everyone with a big smile. “Got it?”
They grumbled a variety of yeses and uh-huhs. Most of them were here for the food and football.
“Excellent. Blue team is Carson’s, yellow is mine. Get your uni’s on and let’s get to it.”
Mason frowned down at the pile Colin had given him, then raised his hand. “What the hell is this?”
I snorted at the way he held the speedo between two fingers. “A sandwich wrapper for your hot dog.”
A burst of laughter broke out as Mason turned red. “Do we really have to wear it?”
I clapped him on the shoulder. “You do whatever you want. The full-back over there will never know.”
Colin snorted. “Oh, we’ll all know if someone grabs hold of his shorts and shows us his white bum.”
Lennox picked up his pair and swung it around his finger. “I’m wearing mine,” then wiggled his eyebrows. “Dane, you wanna help me with my uniform?”
“No,” he laughed, shaking his head like Lennox was ridiculous. He was.
Mason turned redder and headed to the bathroom to change.
When everyone was decked out in their team colors, Colin grinned like a proud father. “Alright, let’s go play beach rugby!”
I looked over at Dane. “Are you gonna record this?”
He pulled out his phone and Lennox’s. “Oh, fuck yeah. It’s gonna be hilarious.”
We headed out to the pool deck and down onto the beach. Both teams divided up, and we tried to get a scrum going. Three-on-three was interesting. In the end, we looked like we were playing a game of human Hungry, Hungry Hippos.
At one point, I looked over to find Dane shaking with so much laughter that I was sure when we watched the video, it would give us motion sickness.
But somehow we got the hang of it enough to pass the ball around. There ended up being no rules, which was probably forthe best, but everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. Even my boyfriend was grinning and laughing.
On one play, Lennox lapsed back into his role of quarterback and threw a forward pass, sending Colin over the edge.
“What are ya doing, mate? Ya can’t do that!”
I grinned. “Frustrating, isn’t it? Welcome to my world.”
Of course, Colin walked by and pinched my ass, making me yelp.
“Oh, sorry. Must have slipped.”
If we’d been alone, I would have tackled him to the ground and made him beg for mercy.
As play continued, I watched as he coached his team. He was having such a good time that it made my heart hurt to think about how empty his life had been. But if he’d been happy in Australia, he never would have left. Now I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
Our game of rugby lasted an hour. We’d all eaten more sand than any of us would like. But we’d laughed and made fun of each other like friends do. Everyone had a new appreciation for the sport, and most importantly, my boyfriend had enjoyed himself.
We all sat down on the sand after the last round. As I looked around at my teammates talking and laughing with each other, they looked no worse for wear. No bruises or injuries, but closer as a unit.
“I gotta hand it to you, Kearney,” Lennox announced, getting to his feet. “This sport is controlled chaos, but fun as hell. Thanks for doing this.”
“Maybe we can do it again in the offseason when we can really play,” Colin suggested.
