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As Covid ripped through our society and life as we know it, it also curtailed and stunted our beloved game. Whereas the professional game soldiered on and provided us with welcome solace amidst the gloom, the effect that the pandemic had on grass roots rugby was seismic: a year on pause; two seasons of frustrating and unfamiliar parenthesis. The pitches were left to grow and clubhouses fell silent, as if hibernating in the darkness. Ominously, here in Wales, in all probability, some of those said clubs will struggle to survive now that the pandemic is over and life returns to normal. Fixture lists on Saturdays are already strewn with postponements as teams struggle to raise a side. Some may say, putting sentiment aside, that some Welsh amateur clubs need to fold, with the glut of clubs and a dwindling player pool posing difficult and uncomfortable questions, even before the pandemic. Conceivably, some clubs folding may allow others to remain alive but either way, for every club that does fold, the community it once served will be diminished as a result and it will be a crying shame.
As explored over the next 26 short chapters, the game of rugby union has evolved since the days of old and will continue to change, for better or for worse, as the seasons roll on. In some small way, for what it’s worth, I’d like to think that this book is my own love letter to the game I was fortunate to play for some 15 years or so.
I am by no means an expert, and some may well hold differing opinions regarding some of the topics covered in this book. However, if you happen to be reading this, I hope that you’ll be able to relate to some of the experiences and musings recalled here and that the following chapters and photographs help to pass the time over an evening or two.
4 ALL SHAPES & ZEBRAS FROM TREORCHY