reacting to rugby

Rugby was a gap in my British education. After nine years living in the UK, I still didn’t know its rules, so I tried some of the hardest-hit compilations viewers had suggested. I was already worried they might make me nauseous before I’d pressed play.

What followed was a lot of admiration for the players’ strength, mixed with a strong desire never to be on the receiving end of it. The clips were exciting. They were also frightening, and by the end I wanted to know what people loved about rugby beyond those spectacular collisions.

American football was my reference point

My dad used to watch American football, so that was what I watched by default growing up. At a quick glance, rugby looked a little similar to me, but I knew enough to realise I didn’t understand what was happening. I didn’t know the rules or what the players were trying to do in each clip.

The obvious visual difference was the equipment. I was used to American football players covered in pads and wearing helmets. These rugby players looked as though they’d gone out in their gym kit. I kept staring at the speed and force of the tackles and wondering how they could do this without the protection I was accustomed to seeing.

That was a question from someone unfamiliar with the sport, not me calculating which game was safer. I found myself worrying about heads and necks as players hit the ground, then needing a moment to recover before the next clip. Watching from my chair was quite enough.

The strength was extraordinary

Some tackles sent a player’s legs into the air. Others stopped somebody almost immediately or lifted a whole person off the ground. I kept rewinding because I couldn’t take in how quickly it had happened, or how much power somebody needed to do it.

Holding onto the ball while someone knocked you down also caught my attention. I didn’t know the technical details, but I could see how strong the grip had to be. The players’ size and leg strength amazed me. I certainly wouldn’t choose a rugby player if I somehow had to fight a professional athlete in a ridiculous imaginary situation.

Without knowing the rules, it sometimes looked like pandemonium to me. That was my impression as an outsider watching big-hit compilations, rather than a description of every rugby match. I could admire what the players were doing and still not understand why a particular tackle happened.

The mood changed when I read more

Partway through, I stopped at an article about concussion in rugby. Reading accounts of former players and their concerns changed the mood of what had started as a wild reaction video. I found it depressing. The question of what happened after the spectacular hit didn’t feel quite so easy to laugh off.

I wasn’t suddenly qualified to explain rugby injuries or make a medical judgement about somebody in a clip. But I was uncomfortable with how casually some comments celebrated playing without pads or helmets as something that made it a sport for men. I didn’t think taking a huge hit proved masculinity.

It made somebody a rugby player, certainly, and I thought doing it took bravery. That wasn’t the same as believing somebody should get hurt to look cool. The macho framing bothered me even while I was impressed by the physical ability on screen.

I still had questions for rugby fans

I wondered whether playing at school helped people develop their interest. I remembered girls trying to start a rugby team at my high school, though I thought it had lasted only one season because there weren’t enough local schools to play against. Rugby hadn’t become part of my life in the way American football had through my dad.

The compilations also introduced words I didn’t understand, and I still wasn’t clear on the difference between rugby league and rugby union. Even the word “football” could send me in the wrong direction. Reading it, I still defaulted to American football after years in England.

By the end, I thought rugby looked thrilling and very physical, but playing it myself did not appeal. What I wanted from fans was an explanation of the attraction. Was it the contact, the atmosphere, the supporters or something else? I could see the skill and bravery in these hits. I wasn’t ready to volunteer for one.

Watch rugby’s hardest hits left me impressed and very uneasy in the original video.