Rugby players

Rugby doesn't rub me up the wrong way, in the way that football/soccer does. The one criticism that is often levelled at it, that it is a socially elitist sport, is in my opinion the saving grace of it. Also, because of the way rugby was organised in school, it was strictly extra-curricular, so I never had it inflicted on me in the way that I had to suffer other ball sports, and never really had the chance to grow to hate it.

And then there are the players. Phwooaar.

My first proper object of lust when I was in school was my applied maths teacher. Who happened to be a rugby player on the local team and coached rugby. He wasn't the tallest - even at the age of 16 I remember looking down at him - but he had an arse to die for. I wasn't the only one who thought so either: When he started teaching applied maths to the girls school up the road from us, one of the girls I knew told me that she kept getting him to go upto the board to do problems so that she could look at how his pants showed off his rear.

Since then I've always had players from various different teams in my crosshairs. The old faithful has been Lawrence Dallaglio, though it has to be said there are a fair few contenders on the English rugby team for my attention in general. Keith Wood is someone I wouldn't mind rattling the duvet with. Also, when there was some rugby match on the last time I was home, I noticed that the team playing against our side were dressed in pink tops. I since found out that they were French, and some of them were serious candidates for getting an ass-pounding from me.

When my father's birthday came to pass last week, I noticed my brother giving him a present of a dvd called 'Reaching For Glory', a documentary about the Irish rugby team filmed over the last year. My interest was piqued, and when my parents had gone to bed, I put it on.

After they had gone to bed, as if they had seen me watching it, and knowing my disinterest in ball sports in general, they would almost certainly have put two and two together, and that might have been a litle embarassing.

Her are a few that jumped out at me. They are choices that would normally be considered bizare, as only one of them have beards, and all of them are around the same age as me (some are, in a first, actually younger than me).

John Hayes Big n' burly n' barrel-chested. Just the way I like 'em. And with a shaved head too. 125 delicious kilogrammes of man-meat.
	David Wallace Younger than me, and bland enough of face, the basic template is still there. Weighs in at a hefty 103kg. An ideal candidate for improving himself by growing a beard.
Denis Hickie Younger than me but looks older. Must be the shaved head. Wouldn't say no if I found him next to me under the duvet. Kind of light at 93kg, compared to the others, but still heavier than me.
	Bernard Jackman Another guy who looks older than his years. Must be the shaved head again. 112 juicy kilogrammes of man mass to get your hands around.
Brian Young At last, a player with a beard. This guy is a whole six years younger than me, but I still wouldn't say no. His team-mates have nicknamed him 'The Bear'. I wonder if they, as straight men, fully understand the ramifications of that tag.
	Gordon Darcy Again, at 90kg and 27 years old, one of the younger and lighter ones here, but it is in the documentary 'Reaching for Glory' that we see him with his back to the camera, walking off the pitch, barechested, his hands in the air, and boy does he have the big guns. Well, it's either him or this next chap...
Shane Horgan I tried to do a screenshot of the player who looks like this bloke or the one previous (don't know which) from the DVD 'Reaching for Glory'. Shane, if it's you, nice biceps. You'd improve no end if you grew a big black bristly beard though.
	Gavin Duffy Treads a dangerous line between pretty and handsome. There's only one way to erase that ambiguity, Gavin! Grow a big thick untrimmed beard.

So, lads, if ever you feel like raising money for charity, get a photographer, get yer kit off, say cheese, and stick it all on a calendar. I'd buy it.