Sex, Drugs and … Rugby
Five hundred miles last week. Dewsbury of all places! It has an amazing open air market, more like a bazaar. There is also a wonderful, if architecture is your thing, Victorian shopping arcade. Cool. The week ended in the mosh pit at a Skunk Anansie concert in Brixton, as you do.
Driving home on Sunday reminded
me of a life changing weekend some forty odd years ago.
I discovered the power of sex,
drugs and rugby on a cold, wintry weekend in February 1967. I was at the
tender age of 14. I was
living in Yorkshire and attending Normanton Grammar School where I had become
something of a good rugby player or rather, a bloody good rugby player. I had received a letter the
previous week advising me that I had been picked to play in the final England
under 15’s school boy trial at the Chepstow Army Apprentices
College. The college
was infact located in Beachley which although on the welsh side of the River Seven, was in
fact still part of England – no doubt England's way of keeping a foothold in
Wales.
Enclosed in the letter was a return
train ticket. I think it was probably the first time I had travelled alone, so I was quite excited as I boarded the train in
Pontefract. I remember
peering out of the window and feeling a sense of freedom and excitement. I still love sitting on a long train journey
taking in the life outside. Little did I
know 40 years later I would be looking out of the window of the Orient Express
on its inaugural trip to Eastern Europe.
That’s for later.
Back in Chepstow the next day I
found myself playing on this weird rugby pitch directly underneath the M4
motorway. I played
well and later that evening we all gathered together, nervously waiting to hear
the news. Oh those
magic words:
“No 8
to play against Wales at Twickenham: Colin Lambert.”
I just remember feeling
complete elation. I suppose
it was my ego. I felt like
a king, like a million dollars. That evening, we had all been invited to the
officer’s mess for a disco. So, high on my selection for England, off I
went. Prior to now, I had
not drunk any alcohol at all. That evening, someone handed me a glass of cider
which was so enjoyable that I had another glass and wow, my head was
spinning. I was high
on two powerful drugs - alcohol and ego!
And to top it all, there was a
yummy, sexy looking girl on the dance floor (I later discovered she was the
daughter of the commanding officer of the base). So here I was on the dance floor with
this attractive girl, I’m drunk for the first time in my life and I have got this other little
celebration going on in my head. At
that moment life felt pretty good. Later I walked the daughter home and at her
front door she ‘kissed’ me for what seemed an eternity. I remember walking back to the
dormitory of 30 beds or so and I remember climbing onto my bed and feeling
totally on top of the world. I
had discovered the heady combination of sex, drugs and rock and roll or rugby
in my case.
It is hardly surprising my new drug SDR; sex, drugs (alcohol was mine) and rugby, steered my navigation through life for the following 45 years.
And the point I am making is;
put down the phone, paper or laptop and look out of the train window. It’s surprising how what you see brightens
your day.
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